Running After the Flu

“I’ll be there, don’t know how I’ll do.  Had a lovely flu last week that turned into bronchitis with a side dish of sinus infection.  Will do my best, and will try not to die on the trail.  You’ll know I’m there by the phlegmy cough that follows you around the wilderness.  — Lara”

 That’s the email I sent to the group this past week.  Kathy wanted to do a 10-miler from Marshall Mesa that would loop through Dowdy Draw.  I knew I didn’t have 10 miles in me, and was hoping to last an hour.

As we gathered on Saturday morning in the beautifully re-structured Marshall Mesa trailhead parking lot near the stinky Porto lets, I decided to do an out-and-back of the Marshall Mesa trail.  I’d head out for 30 minutes and then turn around and come back.

Heidi and Shari arrived on foot after having already run an hour.  This was to be Heidi’s last “long run” before the Kona Ironman Triathlon on October 10^th in Kona, Hawaii.  She was running three hours today, so was doing a “before, during and after” run.  Shari ran the “before and during” with her, and I think Susan’s plan was to extend the 10-miler and join her in rounding out the “after”.  God bless them, I thought.  Wish I could do that but it’s not in the cards for me right now.

I meant to bring my camera on the run and forgot it in my purse in the car.  Damn.  Oh well.  The shot I really wanted was the one I should have pulled over for on my way to the trailhead.  Traveling west on Marshall Road I saw the almost-full moon floating over the mountains.  As I got closer to the mountains the moon disappeared behind the foothills, totally hidden from view.

I loaded my camel-back water bag full of tissues, folded into individual squares so it would be easy to grab one while running.  My nose was still dripping and loads of goo would come charging down my nasal passages with each long honk, plugging my ears with pressure.  Good times.

I ran two miles a few days ago, just to see if I could still do it.  This flu knocked me on my ass.  It’s a powerful bug, and when it has you in its clutches you feel like you’ll never have energy to do anything ever again.  The aches and pains and chills and fever all suck, don’t get me wrong; but it’s the apathy and sheer fatigue that really got me down.  So there I was, trying to run 6 or 7 miles on a Saturday morning with my girlfriends, to prove that I’m still alive and can still put one foot in front of the other, albeit very slowly.

Autumn hasn’t put its death grip of color on the Front Range yet.  The air felt good going into my lungs as I eased my way up the long, winding hill that is Marshall Mesa.  It’s basically one long climb that goes on for about 24 minutes, give or take a few depending on your speed and energy level.  That’s what it took for me at my snail’s pace of 10 minutes per mile.  The ladies easily powered up the hill and I could hear them talking and laughing as they went.  At one point I gasped, “Wait for me,” to Kathy, but she didn’t hear my pitiful voice as she effortlessly ascended a rock staircase.

A new friend, Vanessa, joined the run and we turned back together after 30 minutes.  Her knee was clicking and she didn’t want to over-stress it by going out too far.  The downhill was hard for her and we ended up walking a bit when the ache got too uncomfortable.  She’s training for the Aspen Goldenleaf Half-Marathon at the end of September too, and we both ruefully acknowledged that we’re going to have to kick it into high gear to be ready for that in three weeks.  Yikes.

I told her about the Sombrero 4.5 mile trail race next weekend that I’m registered for.  I’ve been wondering how I’m going to get my kick back in the next seven days, when I haven’t been seriously running for a few weeks now and haven’t done trails in about three weeks.  I don’t have the energy or endurance to push myself hard up a series of hills for 45 minutes.  And, is it worth it to go all out for a race when I’m just coming off an illness?  What’s the price of sticking to a plan for the sake of running a race, when life has thrown me a curve?  Do I go with the flow of life or keep my fists tight around the “supposed to’s” of what I wanted to accomplish many months ago?

Vanessa and I talked about these things as we traversed the hillside and gave wide berth to a cow standing on the trail.  We talked about running and how there have been phases in our lives that didn’t include running but instead were full of things like kids, playgrounds, yoga and hiking.  By the time we waved goodbye as I pulled out of the parking lot I had the feeling that this run wasn’t so much about running, but about finding the flexibility to embrace the changes that come rolling into our lives each and every day.  It’s great to have a plan of action, don’t get me wrong.  But when life’s little boxing gloves come knockin’ you down, you have to be able to get up and see if you’re still on the same path and if the same plans would still be the best ones to work with.  Flexibility, flexibility, and the utter strength to stand still and take stock of your life…  These are the lessons that I came away with on that beautiful September morning.