To say that this week has been full of ups and downs would be an understatement. Some work-related issues almost managed to make me quit and become a chicken farmer in Jamaica (why Jamaica? Because the temperature went up again turning the pavements into ice rinks). Then those issues got resolved, more or less, and I was pretty content again. That's when a cat jumped down my throat and started sharpening its claws on it. I ignored all warning signals that this might, shockingly enough, not be an actual cat but the flu, and ran another 30 km last Wednesday, a great run that was fun and gave me confidence. Then I spent Thursday trying to cough up the bag of sand I had so obviously swallowed.
There was a chance I wouldn't be able to run today. Despite the beautiful weather. Despite the fact that my legs desperately wanted to. Despite the fact that it would only be a shorter run.
I was still doubtful that I would make it to training this morning when I woke up. My throat felt much better, but there was a hint of headache and tiredness lingering in my body. I threw caution to the wind and joined AIK. Our coach told us we would be running on snowmobile tracks and I immediately regretted my decision. I remembered the last time we had run on snowmobile tracks. It was amazing to run in the woods in the middle of the winter then, but the tracks had given way under our weight with every step, making it taxing to run. How would I fare today in my half-sick state?
I didn't need to worry. After a slow start, when whatever virus has occupied my body attacked me with all its might, I emerged victorious. My breathing got easier. My heart pumped effortlessly. Not a hint of soreness in my throat. And the tracks were hard enough to bear our weight.
And the woods? Well. Let me just say that I regretted regretting that I had joined AIK for this run and started planning my next snowmobile track run. Because just look at this: