Training had gone well in the week... Mondays' hour run, back to proper intervals on Tuesday (although slower than normal for my first go at them) then it all went a bit wrong on Wednesday. The weather was terrible and choosing not to take the easy option of running on the treadmill, I instead decided that the very strong blustery wind would be character building.
I ran on a 10:3 (again, slowly getting the walking breaks less and less for midweek runs) and despite fighting against the wind and rain I was making good time. At exactly 3 miles a big lorry came past, making the wind even stronger than it already was and I felt myself go. I stumbled, trying to stop myself from falling but it was inevitable and I went down like a ton of bricks. I have knees that look a clip and all grazed, running tights that are now completely trashed and my brand new Montane thermal gloves are knackered too. My right hand has a very painful cut that means I can't even grip without reopening the wound and that is still the same as I write this 3 days later!
So, last night Graeme made me a nice meal and we had a relaxed night. My stomach was a bit dodgey which I attributed to the fact I'd had an issue with my contraceptive pill. I take one every day which stops me getting periods (because when they come they are very painful). Unfortunately, due to not being able to get a repeat prescription because I couldn't get to an appointment due to work commitments and then when I could they got the prescription wrong and I had to wait another 2 days, I ended up being pill free for 7 days. It wasn't as bad as it could have been though, so I went to bed unconcerned that I would be running for 3 hours today.
At 2am I woke up with the most horrible painful stomach and came downstairs to go to the toilet. I couldn't even walk without bending over and slowly got back into bed. I was only there seconds when I had to get back up. To cut a long story short, I ended up lying on the cold slate tiles of the bathroom floor with no clothes on because the sweat was pouring out of me and I was writhing around like I was in labour. I remember labour all too well, and this was JUST like it. I'm not one for crying when I'm in pain... hell... I had Luke and didn't shed one tear at all, but here I was crying my eyes out begging for it to stop. If I didn't know better, I'd think I was about to give birth.
I managed to go to the toilet and at the same time threw up in the sink, which made things much better, and in my disarayed state I took what I thought was 2 lots of 500mg of paracetomol. In actual fact, when I got up this morning, I realised I'd taken 800mg of ibuprofen. Not ideal.
So, although not 100%, I still felt I could run today and got ready. NO... I got to a mile and had to phone Graeme and ask him to pick me up because I was unable to stand up. He came and got me and I lay on the back seat of the car crying my eyes out. Now I'm home and sat comfortable I'm OK. Bless him, Graeme asked did I want him to stay in instead of doing his long run so he could be here, but I told him to get running. I emailed William and Shaun and asked if they thought it was a good idea to run tomorrow instead. I have a feeling they will tell me it's not a good idea though. They don't normally advocate missing a days' training and adding it on somewhere else. If you've missed it, then you've missed it, tends to be their opinion.
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