I feel like winter is rolling its security door down at last; or at least putting on its coat and waiting for spring to arrive and punch in. Awesome.
So, yeah, not the most athletic endeavor I've ever undertaken. But I noticed a LOT of other road warriors doing quite a bit of walking, too. As far as being out of shape, I'm in good company! :D
The water fountains were not on yet, so I'm glad I took some HEED with me, but I am concerned over some lingering hydration issues. It is possible the flu - and now the Prednisone - has put the whammy on my system. For the last week, I am waking up every single hour throughout the night, having to both pee and drink more. This is classic sign of diabetes, but I think it is just temporary and mostly caused by the Prednisone. At least, that's my hope. Drinking the HEED today reminded me that my doctor recommended drinking electrolyte drinks rather than plain water. It's getting hard to remember all that I'm supposed to do.
Of course, that may just be age. When I woke up about 4:30 last night and swung my legs out of bed, I remember thinking, "holy smoke, I'm getting close to 40!" I wasn't too dismayed by that, but it is the boundary where I'd decide against raising children. (Not that I'm going to do that without a partner.) Well... well. That's what happens at 4:30 in the morning, isn't it, when you're up for the fourth or fifth time that night? Thinking? So I get up to run today and I think I feel my age a little more than I did last month.
I was pretty focused on my lungs, though. Right now, with my water imbalance (drinking all the time, but have Zyvox-prompted diarrhea [sorry]), my lung mucous is super-thick. Thickest as I've ever dealt with. I'll be doubling up on my doses of hypertonic saline to try to force some water into my lungs. When I say thick, I mean it. Elmer's glue is runnier than my phlegm. Well-set pudding is runnier than my phlegm. My phlegm does not run down the side of a container. It hangs there, 'til it dries out. This is a huge problem. Imagine yourself trying to cough out blobs of...oh.... runny dough. It isn't easy; it tires me out quickly.
Sorry to be so gross. I've warned you before this blog could go this direction.
Let's end on a light note: The last half mile of my run was good! It was downhill, so that helped, and I hit walk signals all the way down 9th street from the park to the grocery. That continuous segment, dodging pedestrians and babies, felt pretty nice. It wasn't fast, but it was smooth and for just a second, I felt like a runner again. In fact, if its not too dramatic, I feel a little like the phoenix - I can feel the runner inside me working to be reborn from the ashes of my recent compound illnesses.
This is what we runners do, I suppose, and what we with CF do, too. We keep getting knocked on our ass by illness or injury, and we just keep getting up and getting back to it. We don't need some crazy Chumbawamba anthem to do it, either - but I have to admit it helps. Yeah...it's on my ipod.