sick leave (I think)
Home today from the office, possibly sick. I came home yesterday after work and immediately fell onto the couch, fully dressed, with a heavy blanket over me, shivering. Every muscle in my body ached. I subsequently slept for 12 hours straight. I woke this morning exhausted and spacey, but I didn’t have any typical cold symptoms. (I had my flu shot earlier, and I don’t think I’ve been exposed to anything anyway.)
So rather than dragging my sorry self into the office only to likely leave early, I just stayed home. (I think they can survive without me for a day.)
I suspect my affliction is actually some sort of delayed fatigue response to the marathon more than ten days ago. It was a horrible run for me (and all my fault, a combination of inadequate training and foolish fueling), and I think I’d been pushing myself through my days since then without getting sufficient rest. (Also, some tough gym sessions.) And then it all caught up with me. Muscle aches and sleeping for 12 hours (absent of any head cold symptoms) suggest fatigue rather than sickness. I intend to try a long-ish run on Saturday to assess my status. They say you should rest one week for each mile you run after a marathon. “Rest” is an ambiguous word in this usage. I don’t think it literally means stop running, put your feet up, and drink a lot of beer, though maybe for the first few days immediately after. Rather, the rest is more likely just a much easier exercise schedule, with slowly increasing levels for 26 days.
After the Kansas City Marathon last fall I literally took off the next two months, running little more than 30 miles in that time. And I paid for it in St. Louis, so I can’t slack now given I have New York in November.
And so I am home today. My intent is to fool around with my stories since this windfall of free time. Though I may take a nap as well.
Update at mid-day: I am holed up in my writing room upstairs. My wife is downstairs with Emmett, Emmett’s mom, and my sister who is in town for business but stopped by briefly. I am (possibly) sick and shouldn’t infect any of them, especially a 6-week-old baby, but even my presence has not been acknowledged. As far as our guests know, I am at work. And so I try to make as little noise as I can, creeping about, hoping the floor boards do not creak as I pass from one room to the next. I’ve been drinking iced tea all morning, yet I do not dare flush the toilet lest I give away my presence.
I have been fooling with my stories, and I think I’m doing good to them.