Today I got home from work a little early and lit out for a run around Prospect Park. 4 miles. Should be easy, I thought. But it was such a frustrating run!
I got up to the Park OK -- in fact, i got about 2.5 or 3 miles knocked out and then my lungs just seemed to collapse in on themselves. I couldn't run more than a few hundred yards without being so out of breath I'd have to slow for a walk again. I did finish running, I'll say that, but it was so damn difficult -- it feels like I'm right back at square one.
In fact, for the first time in my life, I asked God, out of sheer frustration with my CF, why? Not why do I have CF?, or why me?, but rather why are you making my lungs make this so difficult? especially when it wasn't like this just a couple weeks ago??. Admittedly, I don't talk to God much, nor ask for His help; I'm not sure there really is a God, but I don't entirely doubt His existence, either. But that's a discussion for another time.
For tonight, I can only say that I'm feeling betrayed -- by God, by my body, by my lungs, by any and all circumstances which, after four months of running, have led to being unable to jog a simple four miles.
If whatever's causing my current lung problems doesn't clear up, I'm not sure I'll be able to run the Cincinnatti marathon. Maybe last for a 1/2 marathon, but certainly not the whole thing.
Silver lining tonight: legs and feet are fine. Cool.