Running with disappointment

Last week, I had a great run. I was able to go for 25 minutes which, while peanuts to most, was a big deal for me. It was longest I'd been able to run yet and my lungs were burning by the end. But I did it and that made me incredibly proud and excited and pleased with my progress.

This past Sunday, I went for a run again with the goal of besting my 25 minutes (even 26 would have been awesome)...and I couldn't make it past 5 minutes. My lungs just seemed to stop working and it felt like I had a rubber band around my throat.

I had taken my asthma meds (even an extra shot of Ventalin to try to open my airways) but it didn't help. The culprit? I can only assume it's my allergies that have sprung up at the worst time ever. I also took an allergy pill to help combat symptoms but no luck. No running for me.

So I tried again yesterday - with the same results. And I'm still a little wheezy. And incredibly upset.

My asthma has always been triggered by the environment and by exercise. My inhalers really help with the exercise part and the environmental triggers haven't been that bad of late, but this fall they're suddenly terrible. The downside to all of this (and the biggest piss-off) is that I don't think I can do my zombie run. I mean, I really want to. REALLY want to. But running in a field outside of Barrie can only wreak further havoc on my already-tight lungs. And this is crushing.

I've felt really down about this the past two days. I've felt stupid for thinking I could do it. I've felt like a failure for not being able to overcome it. I've felt like an ass for telling anyone I was planning to do it. I've felt like giving up running altogether. I've felt fat and lazy and incompetent and incapable. And, I'll admit, I still feel that way a bit.

It's so disappointing. I wasn't expecting to set any records but I felt like I could at least finish the course. I wanted something I could feel proud of, something I could get recognition for accomplishing. I wanted to do this.

It's not completely decided that I won't run. I'm going to try again either tomorrow or Thursday (depending on how my lungs feel) to see if I can breathe long enough to get through 5K. But, honestly, it doesn't look good.

The Beau has been wonderful the past two days, being my cheerleader and giving all kinds of positive reinforcement while also saying that not being able to breathe is a perfectly good reason to back out of a run. He even said, "No one gets to be mean to my girl, not even my girl." (See why I love this man?)

We're going out of town for the weekend, to visit his folks, and that will provide a lovely backdrop for me to lick my wounds and get over my disappointment. But it sucks. It really, really sucks.