Absolutism

Okay, so I haven't updated this blog in like, forever. My friends must think I'm dead. But no, although my first day's reaction to my meds made me wonder if I was going to die (I got so agitated that I had to be scraped off the ceiling with a spatula), my body, quite amazingly managed to adapt. I had a slightly less horrendous reaction on the second day and I've felt pretty normal ever since. Maybe the nurse knew this would happen, that my body would adjust, and that's why she refused to ask the doctor to change my meds.

At any rate, I've been feeling better in the sense that I can actually breathe, but my lungs still aren't 100% even on the prednisone and I'm worried what will happen after I take the last pill tomorrow. They're strictly palliative, not a cure, and all I can do is hope my lungs stay clear enough on their own that I can at least continue walking a little and maybe get back into my strength training a bit. Unless I find myself completely unable to breathe again, I refuse to put my body through another course of such dangerous medicine. It was only because I was desperate that I agreed in the first place.

I feel fat and lazy and soft. I can just feel my fitness ebbing away and if I let myself dwell on it I can get pretty upset. So I try not to think about what the last two weeks have done to my base. I hate, hate, hate building up my fitness, incrementally and painfully increasing mileage and stamina. I've got spring bike rides that I'm already embarrassed to even consider because I know I can't hang with the boys any more and I refuse to ever be the Slow Chick again. My long runs, if I can ever run again, will be laughably short. And speed? Don't make me laugh.

I've been trying not to think in absolutes here, but it's hard. The words always and never keep intruding into my thoughts. I'll never be fast again. I'll get lazy and stay that way forever. I'll always be slow. It'll never be like it was.

Ugh. How depressing. Of course it will get better. Once my lungs are clear enough that I can do more than walk, I'll start building back up again. I've been here before. It's not a fun place to be, but it happens to everyone from time to time, even Kona winners and Olympic champions. Maybe I'll hire a trainer once this is all over to help me get back up to speed quickly and to keep me from becoming discouraged.

But for now, I just need my lungs to clear up. It's not happening, and I'm praying that my body can at least get a bit of a handle on this before I take my last pill tomorrow. Because I'm not taking this poison again.

Recent (Lame) Workouts
Sunday: 30 minute walk, 30 minute slow elliptical