en·dur·ance

1. the fact or power of enduring or bearing pain, hardships, etc.
2. the ability or strength to continue or last, especially despite fatigue, stress, or other adverse conditions; stamina: She has amazing physical endurance.
3. something endured, as a hardship; trial.

So…after I got home from work yesterday, I opened an ominous letter from the doctor’s office to “return to the center as soon as possible for follow up.” You see, last Wednesday when I went in for the sudden vomit fest, they did a bunch of tests, but I left before all of it came back. I was feeling “better.” Apparently, they had been trying to reach me (so they say…I never got a phone call from my multiple phones) to get me to come back in asap. The rest of the blood work came back, in the doctors words “horrible,” and I was/am battling a serious stomach infection (aka stupid stomach bug) and if she had the results before I left on Wednesday, I would’ve been treated accordingly…and probably would not have ran the 30K. So much for the migraine theory.

I had the blood work redone last night and my numbers are improving, so she said to let it run it’s course and rest up. She said she was really worried about me and that this could’ve turn into something worse, but was surprised at how well I was doing and feeling considering. She said she was shocked to see the numbers last week because I didn’t “look” as sick as I was…what can I say, I wear sickness well. HA! While this explains a lot of the struggles that I had over the past week with running, but I’m still sticking to my guns about being more disciplined with my routine because really, I have been a little bit lazy. And I guess I have to admit that struggling though the 30k, while it royally sucked, did make me mentally stronger.

Runners. As I’ve said before, we’re a special breed. We push so hard sometimes even when it’s not good for us. We endure aches and pains and in my opinion, mask it so that others don’t see it. Not that we’re hiding something, we’re just used to it. An “I’m fine” from a runner is probably like “I’m dying” from a non-runner. We run with stress fractures for longer than we should, and we run when we’re feeling a little sick. We tell each other to “listen to your body,” but push a little longer before we say okay. And when a runner finally gives in and says “I’m dying,” well you probably know yeah…they’re not feeling so hot. We endure a lot more than most people could imagine and we make it look so easy. Proud to be a part of this crazy clan of people.