Boogers. Steak. Coldplay.

Just as I was given the green light to start running again by both my podiatrist and PT, my lungs shut down.  I woke up on Tuesday with a slight pain in my head, but did not think much of it.  I pushed on, went to the gym and then work.  As the afternoon turned corner, I felt a fever developing quite rapidly.  Well, fast forward 72 hours and it’s official, I have bronchitis.  The build up of evil bodily fluid is deep in my lungs and is difficult to… release.  My nose burns, my head hurts a little bit and I have the lungs of a floundering fish lost at the edge of water meeting the shore. 

I am almost starting to think that some entity is trying to prevent me from running in the Boston Marathon this year.  I have had 2 foot injuries in the same foot and now this damn illness.  Well, thank god for modern medicine.  I am pumped full of antibodies right now and can feel an increasing difference.

I would have preferred taking the time off from work with something more positive in my agenda, but a little R&R is never a bad thing.  I’m tellin’ you, though… it’s becoming pretty hard to stay positive and optimistic about April 15.  I am not too sure if any of this experience over the last 26 years has been a “test”, but it sure is adding up to feel like a punching bag.

I suppose this post is going in a bit of a different direction.  I’m just exhausted and the small events are drawing out how profound the larger events have been.  The straw that broke the camels back perhaps?

Honestly.  I’ve had enough crap happen to me to justify taking a break from going after goals or ambitions… a well deserved waving of the white flag on this ship, I say.  You know that scene from What’s Eating Gilbert Grape, when the mom is eating icing straight out of the container? I pretty much feel like doing that right now. 

 I’ve gone freaking blind and have lost both of my parents.  I always told people that what got me through going blind was my amazing family.  Now half of that is gone.  Now half of that will never be there at the finish line, of anything.  I can only be a punching bag for so long.

Well, it’s a good thing I’m a pro’ at taking the punches.  Yeah I’m tired, I’m sick and am meeting nothing but blockades at a time when I need the complete opposite.  Yes, any experienced runner or marathon trainer will tell you my odds of finishing this marathon are beyond slim.  Yes, I am not Superman and I am distraught right now.  However, I never said I was giving up.  The BBR pushes on and upwards, even when he feels like he is on trial and stone after stone is being placed on his chest for no right reason.  “More”, I say.

I’m going to go blow more boogers, eat steak, and listen to some Coldplay and restrategize…