Tapers Never Go as Planned

Chicago is Sunday.  I fly out Friday, will go for a short run Friday evening with Spencer, then hang Saturday.  Spencer has promised to keep me company miles 6-19, and for that, I am truly thankful.  I'm gonna need company.  This is going to be a slog.  This is by far the shortest prep I've ever done for a marathon.  I was feeling optimistic a week ago, when I'd done a confidence building 18 and another confidence building 17.  I had planned to go at it pretty hard two weeks out, but my body had other ideas.  Sunday I had a sniffle.  Tuesday I had a hacking, Hillary Clintonesque cough.  I took Tuesday off because of class, Wednesday off because I was sick, and Thursday off because of class.  Friday, I decided to try to run.  The legs were willing, but my lungs were a mess.

Saturday, I ran with my wife and daughter, three slow miles around the monuments.  It was one of the best runs of my life. How much fun. I felt miserable, though, still on the down slope of the cold.  I managed a slow 8 miles with my friend Jim Halpert.  Yes, he really is named Jim Halpert, and he was friends with the Office show runner in college.  Max was going to run with us, but only he understands precisely what happened. Monday felt good, and Tuesday felt mediocre.  My lungs are still a bit iffy, not completely clear.

Now, however, there's nothing I can do about it.  Time tor rest, rest, rest, and rest.  We'll see what happens on Sunday.