I would like to describe my Wednesday to you, with these images:
Seriously, it was not good. It started earlier this week, with some awful stomach pain. I just ignored it because I always have bad stomach pain, and … issues … and am just used to it. But then on Wednesday I met Christine out for a run.
In subzero temperatures.
Feeling like shit.
Until all hell broke loose about a mile and a half from home. It was ugly. REALLY ugly. Thank god Christine is the kind of friend you can be disgusting in front of. She’s that combo of good, close friend you are never embarrassed in front of, and fellow runner, who understands emergency pit stops. And thank god it was still dark out.
Let’s just say I was so sick on Wednesday that I lost 3 pounds. SWEET JESUS.
Philip was Mr. Dream Husband yesterday and took care of the kiddos, picking them up from daycare and doing solo dinner, bath and bedtime. I even pumped a bottle for the baby, I didn’t want to get her sick and was frankly too out of it to even nurse her. And he made me Jell-O and bought me Ginger Ale. He’s a keeper, that’s for sure. Hopefully keeping me away from the kids means they won’t get sick. The last thing Jack needs is another stomach bug. And the baby, my god, she’s too little to get something like that.
I am feeling a lot better today, though still not quite myself. I am currently having a delicious cup of coffee (though chasing it with Ginger Ale), so I hope that doesn’t trigger any more sickness. Ugh.
Nothing says “start your marathon training” like a good stomach flu! At least now I’m closer to racing weight, right?