A funny thing. I got up this morning at 6, got on the 6:37 train, read my book to keep awake, got off, went to the gym, and by 8:28 I was back at my local train station heading home to bed.
Before I started exercising I felt like I was going to be sick. It wasn't just nausea; it was very much about to come up. I felt like I was extremely hungry, but I'd had a banana before leaving home and I don't usually eat breakfast during the week so there was nothing unusual there.
I intended not to run this morning; the ongoing pain in my right hip (not just muscular but sharp and strong enough to make me bend like an old man when I got up yesterday morning. If I develop a permanent running injury this will be it, and I suspect it's all related to the sciatica and damaged piriformis muscle I have on my right side) led me to consider a plain non-jogging session giving me three days to recover before running again on Saturday I hopped on the elliptical hoping that a slow start would settle me down. 5 minutes later I'd already stopped twice and decided to just pack it in.
One miserable dry-retching session in the toilets later, I decided to have a shower in case I needed to go to work because I didn't think I could make it home. I eyed off the communal drain and wondered if spewing into it was bad form. Slowly, slowly I got dressed and walked back to the station. Deciding that I'd rather tough it out and go straight home, I fell asleep and actually dreamed between stations, so by 8:30 I was back home and in bed.
I ate some toast, put myself to bed, read the paper and slept for two hours. I've managed a further short doze and 1 1/2 hours of napping as well, and I feel pretty good now so I hope whatever it was was transient and that it's not coming back. I was really looking forward to this morning's session (especially after the bowl of wedges I was obliged to eat for dinner last night; some pubs' vegan options stretch no further than deep-fried potatoes). Incidentally, it's not morning sickness. So don't ask, Mum :)
So that was icky today; on to Saturday and a proper sweating run please!
Before I started exercising I felt like I was going to be sick. It wasn't just nausea; it was very much about to come up. I felt like I was extremely hungry, but I'd had a banana before leaving home and I don't usually eat breakfast during the week so there was nothing unusual there.
I intended not to run this morning; the ongoing pain in my right hip (not just muscular but sharp and strong enough to make me bend like an old man when I got up yesterday morning. If I develop a permanent running injury this will be it, and I suspect it's all related to the sciatica and damaged piriformis muscle I have on my right side) led me to consider a plain non-jogging session giving me three days to recover before running again on Saturday I hopped on the elliptical hoping that a slow start would settle me down. 5 minutes later I'd already stopped twice and decided to just pack it in.
One miserable dry-retching session in the toilets later, I decided to have a shower in case I needed to go to work because I didn't think I could make it home. I eyed off the communal drain and wondered if spewing into it was bad form. Slowly, slowly I got dressed and walked back to the station. Deciding that I'd rather tough it out and go straight home, I fell asleep and actually dreamed between stations, so by 8:30 I was back home and in bed.
I ate some toast, put myself to bed, read the paper and slept for two hours. I've managed a further short doze and 1 1/2 hours of napping as well, and I feel pretty good now so I hope whatever it was was transient and that it's not coming back. I was really looking forward to this morning's session (especially after the bowl of wedges I was obliged to eat for dinner last night; some pubs' vegan options stretch no further than deep-fried potatoes). Incidentally, it's not morning sickness. So don't ask, Mum :)
So that was icky today; on to Saturday and a proper sweating run please!
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