Here are some thoughts that passed through my head on Tuesday night when I was camping out in the bathroom at 3 AM, very, very ill:
- I wish I could take my knees off, take them back to the Acme Body Joint Factory, and demand a refund. “These knees are defective! They hurt for no good reason! I want a new pair. Also, can you direct me to the returns counter for hips?”
- I have too much crap in my bathroom drawers. Do I really need sixty-bazillion bobbypins? How did I even come to own sixty-bazillion bobbypins?
- I need to buy new road running shoes for summer. I want pretty ones. Brooks stability are awesome but their colours suck. PINK! I want screaming, radioactive PINK, people! Us stability shoe wearers want the same attention to splashy, tacky styling that all you minimalist and neutral runner folks get. IT’S NOT FAIR!
- Why can’t I move my ship, dammit! *pokes iPad screen harder * MOVE, YOU IMBECILE, MOVE!” This game is broken, I hate it and I am never playing it again. One star rating here I come! Oh wait… My bad, that’s not a ship, its part of the background. I think it might be a tree…
- I wonder if I am going to freak out in the tunnels of the Boa Constrictor obstacle next month. That looks a little intense, now that I just watched that really scary video with the screaming girl in it. Must watch more, because exhaustion and pain make these kinds of things much less anxiety inducing.
- Jenna Marbles is not funny. I want to punch her. Kind of like how I want to punch that airhead from 50 Shades of Grey, or the effervescent Bella Swan. Jeepers, ladies, grow a pair, will ya? Whoa, I just used the word effervescent in a sentence. Next I am going to wax poetic about gossamer TP… Oi.
Things I have learned never to do while sick, bored, and camped out in the bathroom at 3 am:
- Do not Google your illness symptoms. You will invariably think you are going to die.
- Do not watch videos that make you giggle uncontrollably. That never ends well when you have a gastro. Jes sayin’…
- Do not try to sleep. You will fall over. Ow. *rubs forehead*
- Do not count your stretchmarks for something to do. You will descend into incalculable woe.
So y’all, I had Norwalk. That’s where I went all week. It was sheer delight and restful contemplation. Right. It was &$*@ing &%$*. I never want to do that again. Never, Like Ever. Sucking cannot even begin to describe it. *cue melodrama*.
The 3 hour tour started Sunday, and I finally saw the light (in the form of a bagel sandwich) yesterday. The S.S. Mustangsabby sunk, folks. It was not a happy time.
Hooo man, was I sick. Training took a backseat to simply sitting upright, running was abandoned in favour of shuffling between the couch, bed and bathroom. Eating was non-existent except for saltines, Nuun, and noodle broth. Words cannot describe the level of awesomeness I achieved as I assumed parts of my body were being torn asunder, and my organs were revolting the current working conditions of my body in a very active way. My hair hurt. Yes, my hair. Combing it was very ouchy. It felt like I was made of tissue paper and someone was raking me with sharp tipped scissors, or an indignant porcupine.
I impersonated a marathon runner after a race while walking, or maybe a zombie since I was so flippin’ exhausted, since there was no runner’s high associated with said shuffle. My toenails protested being put into socks. I could hear them chanting as I attempted to put on a pair to go to the doctor… “Equality for all metatarsals! We demand a recount! All the piggies deserve ice cream!” etc…
Now back in the land of the living, both kids back to normal, and my husband so far not falling ill, I am ready to get back at it next week. I gotta!
Three weeks to taper!