Irony

Over the past few weeks I have been getting my arse kicked by my new trainer/coach. Erin is great--I love her a lot even though she makes me hurt and want to cry and pass out from lack of oxygen. Last week was the last "push" week before this week's blessed "recovery" week. She had me at the track timing my 400's and 800's and commenting that I was doing great and that she thinks that I can maybe even increase my (i.e .her) estimated race pace for me from 8 minute miles to sub 8's (7:45 maybe?). Of course this is Boston--a notoriously beast of a course, so the likelihood of 26.2 miles of sub 8's is questionable at best. And that's provided I get there in one piece. (See earlier "Boston Curse" post). So needless to say, the past few weeks have beat me down. A lot. (and I confess I DO love every minute of it. When it's over.). I was SO looking forward to this week's easy schedule--so how does my body repay the gratitude? It starts to get sick. Sore throat, gut ache, head congestion kind of sick--and all on the day before I have to go to a 2 day work "retreat". I guess I should try to look at the glass "half full" and say "Wow-good thing I am sick THIS week when I don't have to run as much/hard! That way I'll be in top form next week when I get my butt beat down again! Sweet!"

Not that I am getting sick. I don't get sick.