This past week was a very challenging week to say the least. It was my second week of single parenting; I fought a nasty cold, and mustered up the energy to put in a long run.
My husband had to travel to the East Coast for his job from April 13-25. Of course the timing could not have been any worst. I typically do my Crossfit workouts in the evening when he gets home from work. I tag team him and he takes over the girls (we have a rambunctious 19-month-old & a garrulous 10-year-old) while I rush to get to “the box.” The first week was not as smooth for me as I only managed to get in one Crossfit workout. I have this severe anxiety of asking people to babysit my daughters while I go workout. I’ve not been able to decipher whether the anxiety stems from fear of something or someone harming my daughters, or just sheer guilt. It also doesn’t help to not really know anyone or have family nearby. Plus, I feel that asking someone to babysit a toddler comes off across as a major chore, and I’m too sensitive about even giving someone the opportunity to think my daughters are overwhelming, so I’d much prefer not to ask.
On Saturday April 19th, which was the end of the 1st week, I woke up with a sore throat and feeling extremely fatigued. I was hoping it was just a silly cold that would make its exit quicker than its entrance. Feeling guilty from my lack of workouts and fearing my sub-2 goal for my upcoming half was in jeopardy, I decided to take advantage of a Saturday Crossfit workout. I placed my toddler in the jogging stroller and informed my 10-year-old they were accompanying me to the box. I packed goodies for them and toys to entertain themselves with. My 10-month-old fell asleep on our walk to the box and remained sleeping halfway through my workout. I deliberately delayed her nap so that she would sleep during a portion of my workout – and it worked. Well, my workout was AWFUL, which was expected given how my body warned me earlier in the morning.
My cold got progressively worse throughout the week. Monday was supposed to be a Sprint session, but my body and head were aching, and instead of running while my daughter napped, I chose to nap as well. Did I forget to mention my toddler was also battling the same cold? She was irritable and wanted me to constantly hug her because of how miserable she was feeling. Despite my – and the little ones – misery, I forced myself to a Crossfit session. My daughters once again accompanied me and much to my delight, an 11-year-old girl with her 2-year-old brother were also at the box. Their mother usually brings them along, so I was extremely happy they happened to be there. The workout included running 200 meters followed by 30 walking lunges repeated 7 times. I’d normally enjoy workouts that include running, but not this time. My nose was stuffy and itchy. My head ached and my muscles were weak. I fought through the fatigued muscles and aching lungs and was so relieved I skipped my sprint session earlier in the day.
Tuesday brought about a severe bout of sneezing throughout the entire day. I seriously wanted to chop my nose off. And my daughter seemed to feel the same. I still fought the desire to stay in bed and went back to the box. Wednesday came along and even though I was sneezing less, I was still tempted to lie in bed all day. However, the thought of crossing the finish line with a time of 2:00:59 caused enough motivation within me to ignore my desires of the flesh and return to the box. I repeated the same visualization on Thursday and went for the fourth consecutive day.
Friday was supposed to be another Crossfit session, but my in-laws were stopping by and my HIIT workout included doing laundry, scrubbing tubs, wiping counters, cleaning toilets, mopping flowers, vacuuming, dusting, and preparing lunch all while tending to a toddler. By this point, I was so ready for my husband to be home and give me some relief. Fortunately, he was arriving very late that day – 12:00 am Saturday morning.
With Saturday came the desire to lounge all day, but I still needed to put in a long run. The weather outside was AWFUL – high winds with black clouds spewing giant cold drops of rain all over the horizon. And so after almost four hours of putting off my run thinking the skies would clear, I stepped outside and started logging miles. The first 1.5 miles were sheer misery. The wind blew on my face, my glasses got wet, and my muscles felt like heavy clay. Because I miscalculated how far a certain trail went, I only ended up doing 11.28 miles with an 11:35 pace. And the craziest thing happened after the first mile and a half. It stopped raining altogether and the sun started shining!
The run was hard. My heart was not in it. I wanted it to be over. After such a rough week, I longed for relaxation. Plus, the hills were causing an unusual ache on my heels. In fact, my left heel still feels sore. I’m hoping it’s not plantar fasciitis?
How was your training week? Should I be concerned about Plantar Fasciitis, or am I being paranoid?