Running Through a Cold

Since last Tuesday I have been feeling decidedly like I am fighting off some kind of cold. It started with an irritating cough and rapidly became a general overall achey body feeling and tiredness. What I didn’t know was whether, how and/or when these symptoms would mutate into something more serious, but I certainly didn’t want to let them cause a break in my streak of running 25+ miles each week, a streak that I had managed to maintain for the first five weeks of 2018. The problem was that I had only run 4.1 miles on Tuesday leaving me with about 21 still to do – if I ended up out of action for a few days that would be curtains for the streak. So I was worried (and also not particularly wanting to feel worse than I already did). So…

On Thursday evening, despite the fact that I had had a busy day at work and it was dark and raining by the time I got home, I bit the bullet, grabbed my running kit and pushed myself out for a run, hoping to do 7-8 miles but realising that my body might protest and I might only manage 3 or 4. If I hit my target then I’d hopefully be well enough to get to 25 in one go over the weekend and if I only managed the latter then I’d have to consider running little bits on Friday, Saturday and Sunday if I could manage it. The nightmare scenario was that I’d make myself worse and be out of action completely.

Fortunately, things went pretty well. I completed my 7.8 mile circuit and although it loosened my cold up a bit and the coughing and spluttering increased somewhat I didn’t tire especially quickly on the run itself and I didn’t seem to have made myself much worse. My gamble had paid off and my weekly target was still in reach.

Then, this morning (Saturday), not feeling any better and with pretty foul weather (wet and blustery), I decided to chance my luck again. I need to complete just over 13 miles and figured that I was better going for it on one run such that if the effort knocked me out for a few days at least I would have my completed target to comfort me. I also felt that there was an outside chance that keeping active might actually make me stronger and keep the cold at bay. I planned my route so that if I got to 6-7 miles and felt to rough to continue I could cut back towards home for a total of around 9 miles but if I was still going okay I would press on. It was quite a tough run. As I headed west along Plymouth’s waterfront at around the 8 mile mark I found myself battling a strong headwind and squally rain. I nearly lost my cap a couple of times and ended up running bent forwards to reduce the impact of the wind and with one hand on the brim of my cap to ward off the wind gusts. Fortunately, the later part of the run saw me in more sheltered streets and the rain eased off a bit. But the problem with most of my runs is that the last couple of miles are invariably uphill because, you’ve guessed it, I live on a hill… The result of this today was that I rather plodded my way home and once I was about a mile from the end my brain started to shut me down a bit in an attempt to persuade my body that it was done. Still, I made it, 13.5 miles at an average pace of 10:10 per mile which isn’t too shabby all things considered.

I’ve been tired today since I got in and I think my cold has developed a bit. My throat is more sore and there have been a few spectacular sneezes but I suspect this development might have happened anyway; hopefully my gamble hasn’t made things worse. So far, I feel like my decision to keep going has been a good one and, best of all, my 25 miles per week streak has made it to six weeks. I’ve got a couple of days rest now and then hopefully I’ll be back out on the pavements on Tuesday, looking to push in towards seven weeks in a row, cold permitting of course.