I guess I should take the hint by now. Apparently someone doesn’t want me participating in any athletic events, or my body just hates me. First I fracture both of my feet before the Broad Street run. Then I get a stomach virus the day before the ACS bike-a-thon. WTF?
I was devastated Sunday morning when I finally made the call not to ride. After 24 hours of puking my brains out, not sleeping, and running a fever, I came to the realization that I might seriously harm myself if I rode my bike 66.2 miles.
Literally, up until 5:30 a.m. on Sunday, I thought I was going to ride. As soon as the puking passed on Saturday morning, I started downing electrolytes and toast. I thought if I could just recuperate fast enough, I would feel fine on Sunday.
I was being a stubborn little brat. When my fever finally broke Saturday night, I laid out my clothes for the next day and packed my bag. I even woke up in the middle of the night remembering that I didn’t pack sunscreen. I certainly didn’t want to get burned.
Then I woke up at 5:30 a.m. on Sunday and walked to the kitchen. The thought of eating breakfast disgusted me, and my lack of sleep coupled with my dehydration hit me — I wasn’t going to make it a mile, let alone 66.2. WORST FEELING EVER.
The crappiest part about it is that I raised so much money for it too. The money still goes to the ACS, but the people who gave me their money where cheated of seeing me torture myself for 66.2 miles. Luckily, my two friends rode the course, and I vicariously lived through them that day.
Another part that sucks are the weeks of spin classes and training that didn’t get used. All that hard work for nothing!! I know there was no way this virus could have been prevented, but I’m so angry that it took this opportunity away from me. If this stomach virus was a person, I’d punch right in its ugly little face.
So here’s the moral of the story: I will not be signing up for any events until I am 26 years old. Almost every goal I set for myself when I turned 25 has not been reached due to my numerous injuries or illnesses. The only thing I’m managed to do is learn how to cook. But there’s still time to screw that up!
