After a week and a half of still not feeling better [insert comment about how I obviously should have gone to the doctor way sooner] I finally saw my amazing Physician at Weill Cornell Medical [if you're looking for a recommendation in NYC let me know, cause she's amaaaaazing....and just signed up for her first marathon this fall!] this afternoon. The diagnosis? Bronchitis!
In case you're never sure when you're cleared to workout or not, here is a handy rule of thumb from my lovely doctor [we're speaking generally with a generic cold here, obviously go see a doctor when in doubt]: if it's neck or above, it's not a terrible idea to try working out; below the neck...sit it out until you're better. In my case, specifically, it's "no running until the wheezing is gone." So...let's hope the antibiotics kick in soon, aaaaaand...I guess it makes sense that my attempts to get running again Saturday and Sunday morning were so miserable.
Yes, yes...wheezing aside (this was pre doctor's orders, mind you) I tried to ease back into the swing of things this weekend because I was beginning to feel like a lazy blob. Saturday I made it just 2 miles through Central Park before stopping to hack up a lung. Sunday felt much better and I even made it 3.5 miles (possibly distracted by NYC's AMAZING weather this weekend), but quickly regretted my decision. On the subway to birthday brunch with some amazing girlfriends I started getting the chills, then sweating profusely. Cue the onset of nausea. As I tried to breathe and not focus on how many more stops I had to hold it together I intermittently unbuttoned blouse buttons/rolled sleeves/and assumed the position taught to older generations for preparation for an air strike. The people sitting around me were visibly disturbed. I got some looks of, "What is with this girl?" others of, "is she going through some sort of withdrawal?" and some "wow...unusual to see leopard print heels and a white button down on a crack addict." I could not get off that subway soon enough.
Unfortunately, fresh air only brought panic - I am having an issue right now and it cannot possibly end well!
Retrospective self-diagnosis? Dehydration with a possible side of pushing too hard (not likely on
pushing too hard though, as I didn't have that much in me).
The quick fix? A Chipotle bathroom and [Thank you Chipotle, for your clean bathrooms and
non-judgemental attitude towards people bee-lining for your restrooms. For your efforts I reward
you with free product placement, oh, and I did buy...) a bottle of juice.
Lucky for me, this time the quick fix really was just that - I'm not always so lucky. I do think, however, that refueling with some sugar, seems to help lessen post-run illness. In Tortoise vs. Tummy, this time the forces of good were victorious. May they continue their reign!