Whatever doesn't kill me..

Having successfully managed to fend off the horrible cold that is still messing with Tanker's voice more than two weeks after he succumbed to it, I have been felled by a coworker's indiscriminate carpet bombing of my office with her germs.

Blergh.

Inconvenient, as this also happens to be "hell week" - the week in which I pile on even more bloody mileage than I did for last year's Run for the Toad 50k campaign in order to try to feel somewhat qualified to run the Waterloo Marathon on the 27th.

#truth

So, I've kept running, even upping the mileage on my weeknight workouts. It's actually been a half decent week for it, by which I mean only half of my runs have been in the pissing rain. I'm sure this is helping my cold.

I did get to wear shorts.

Cycling and swimming have been the break points, though. I did ride my bike on Wednesday, having brought it to work for my lunch ride/commute to my Mum's, but by the time lunch rolled around all I did was pedal slowly over to the grocery store by my office to pick up more vitamin C chewables (since we ran out that morning) and call my mom to tell her I wouldn't be coming over to infect her with my plague. Tomorrow is supposed to be absolutely gorgeous, yet I will not be cycling down to the market. I have done a couple of swims, but they've been short and accompanied by an unsettling rattle in my throat.

I have a big stinkin' run to do tomorrow - while I may have done the 50k on a couple of 30k long runs, a trail ultra and a road marathon are simply not the same thing in terms of stress on the body. So, a-slogging I will go, chasing a 70+k week that may or may not break me completely. I'm popping vitamin C & echinacea, choking down oil of oregano, slurping raw honey and lemon, and basically doing the minimum possible in between an endless series of naps in my car. I'm like some kind of sniffly, over-achieving narcoleptic.

Can I go back to bed yet?

This is seriously all of my current hopes and dreams in one image.