I know the more I run the more I run the risk of something happening.
A fall.
Breaking a bone.
Tearing a ligament.
Getting hit by a car.
Seeing something really gross (I almost stepped on a dead cat once and that freaked me out).
Well, I started out on my long run on Sunday morning and it should have been a nice and easy 7 miles. The weather was gorgeous and I didn't hit the road until 8am because it was so relatively cool outside.
Half-a-mile in and I had a side stitch. Okay, fine, whatever. Maybe my english muffin hadn't digested enough. Maybe I was dehydrated because I was outside in the sun from 10am to 3pm on Saturday watching the hubs play baseball. Maybe my terrible night of sleep on Thursday night was coming back to haunt me. Maybe my midnight deadline for a work project on Saturday was the final straw. Who knows what caused the stitch because I certainly don't.
I kept running because it was a simple stitch. They come and they go.
At mile one I started to get a bit lightheaded, so I slowed down a bit. I thought maybe it's too bright outside. Yes, my super pale self actually thought the sun was causing my issues. Whatever, I kept running.
At one-and-a-half miles I started salivating heavily. For the first time I realize something wasn't right. My pace was now a cross between a jog and a drunken drag.
Quickly I turned down a little side street, found a bush and lost my breakfast. For about 10 seconds I thought, "okay, I'll just go one with my run now because I got that out of my system." Then the chills came. Then the panic set in. I'm dizzy, puking, cold and not in any shape to get back to my house in any quick amount of time.
I called home. Thank GOODNESS I run with my phone now. Sure, I really run with it because I can listen to music (thanks Pandora!) and track my runs with a GPS trainer, but in that moment when I wasn't feeling well it was really nice to have a way out.
Me: Babe, I need you to come pick me up. I just threw up and I'm really dizzy.
Hubs: Where are you?
Me: Clarkville Street.
Hubs: Where?
Me: You know, the street that if you towards the train station the way you drive and not the way I drive. The big street.
Hubs: Don't sit down, I'll be there in a minute.
Three minutes later my knight in a shiny Escape came and picked me up. Dude even brought me water, which I declined until I had the opportunity to swish something and spit it back out.
Later in the day the hubs flat out demanded that he wanted to know where I was when I went running. Normally, I'm not one for demands, but the guy really had a solid point on this one so I gave in. Now, whenever I head out I'm going to leave a map up on the computer so he can see my route. In the past I usually tell him roughly how long I'll be so he knows when to start worrying.
I keep trying to tell him that he could put any fears he has of me running by myself aside if he came out with me. His response, "well who's going to come pick us up when I pass out and land on you?"
In all seriousness, I felt fine later in the day. It was just a bit scary of how that could have been a lot worse of a situation. I could have been 8 miles from home and on a crazy back road. I could have been out running and not have had my phone on me. The hubs could have been out walking the dogs or not at home at all.
It could have been a lot worse. I'm so thankful that all I lost on this run was my breakfast. Sure, I hated missing my long run, but I'm happy that I made it home safe and sound.
Do any other runners get worried something might happen to them while they're out for a run? What precautions do you take?
No comments:
Post a Comment