Pain, Embarrassment and Toxic Exposure in 1.67 Miles

I am now signed up for the Waddell and Reed half marathon on October 19th, and my  12-week training starts next week.  As I mentioned in a previous post, I’ve decided to go with Hal Higdon’s Intermediate program.  He got me through my first marathon, and so I think he must be a god.

I’m debating training paces and goal times in my head, and I’m basically all over the place, which is kind of how I roll these days in general.  Anything over 2:00 for the race will probably result in heavy drinking and self-flagellation.  No question.  

A 1:55 is the most reasonable target, I think.  It would not be a PR, but it seems closer to my best possible time at this stage, since I have not been running too fast and since I no longer do CrossFit, which I think helped me run faster back in the day (the bursts of the WODs and their high intensity were much like interval training.)

I decided to head out yesterday to do some speedwork–5 x 400m repeats.  I’m scheduled to start running them next week, and I wanted to see if 1:55 was a manageable pace for them.  I mapped out a straight 400m section in our neighborhood and jogged a leisurely warmup to my designated spot.

I should mention at this point that I woke up Monday morning (an off day for exercise) feeling like I was developing a urinary tract infection (UTI).  Men, imagine the end of your penis constantly burning and a sensation of needing to pee every two minutes.  You want to go to the bathroom constantly because you have this strong need to go to try and get rid of the burning feeling and sensation of fullness, but it hurts when you do (and when you don’t).

Genius that I am, I didn’t think it would affect my running.  Dork that I am, even if I had thought it would affect my running, I would have given it a try anyway.

Imagine my dismay when I approached my starting point and saw a posse of construction workers about halfway down my 400m stretch, standing around doing nothing.  Apparently the city is repaving one of the side streets in the neighborhood, and this group of guys must have been in between duties (I am not going to be rude and make snarky comments about how many men have to stand around doing nothing on the taxpayers’ dime.  Surely they were just waiting for something to dry/cure/arrive.)

And me in my hot pink tank.  Oh dear.  If there’s one thing I don’t like, it’s folk music Honey Boo Boo social conservatives attention.  Could there be anything more embarrassing than me flailing by these men at what I consider breakneck speed, wheezing for air with my boat-sized feet flapping out to the sides while not even running the equivalent of an 8:00 mile?  I think not.

Further, the smell of tar was everywhere.  It was noxious, and it permeated the air, hanging there about head high just waiting to bury itself into my cilia the moment I took a big honking death gasp.

And I’m going to run by these guys five times (and jog back by them five more) for my first speedwork session in close to 10 months?  While giving cancer a personal invitation into my body?

I decided that I was not about that scene and fled, choosing instead to just turn my run into a 4-miler.  Easy and productive, right?

UTI = UT OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!

Ladies, I have advice for you.  If you have a UTI, don’t run.  Don’t even try.  That feeling of pain and burning is magnified by 1,000 when you run.  Every time my feet hit the asphalt, I felt like I was going to pee spicy salsa or straight-up acid.  

I tried to stick it out–I did.  But after 1.67 miles, I realized that I wasn’t doing my body or my running any favors, and nobody was around to hand out medals for toughness.  I walked home and drank approximately 50 gallons of water to try and make enough urine to flush the demons or at least cut down the level of pain.

I am headed to the doctor today, conveniently enough, for other issues, but my first act shall be to grab him by his coat and shake some Cipro right out of him.  Then I will mention the bald spot on my left temple and the fact that I am gaining weight at an unprecedented pace.  Then I shall shake a thyroid test out of him lickety split–perhaps a tough task given that he tested my thyroid back in October and it came back as a top performer.

Sorry for the TMI…this balding weight-gaining hurting chick has no filter today.  Hopefully I will be back to running pain- and construction worker- free soon!  And BTW, a big thank you to those who left comments and good wishes on my anniversary post.  I appreciated them very much!

Happy running!

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18 thoughts on “Pain, Embarrassment and Toxic Exposure in 1.67 Miles

  1. I will be waiting for your phone call. Feel free to pick up the Cipro first.

    Way to ruin those guys day, you really could have made it a memorable one for them.

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  2. Have your doctor test not just TSH but T3 and T4 also. My TSH and my T4 come up normal, but my (I think) T3 is weird, which indicates that there’s a disconnect between what the thyroid is generating and what it’s converting for my body to use. For a while my dr didn’t do anything because the TSH and T4 were in the normal range, even though I had symptoms. But eventually he looked at the T3 and realized that component was out of whack. I take a compounded medication to address just that component, and it’s made a huge difference.

    Good luck and I hope you feel better!

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  3. So when I woke up this morning I didn’t think one of the things I would do today would be laughing out loud at a post that combined urinary tract infections and running. But I did! Great post and I hope you are peeing and running painlessly soon!

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  4. Nothing worse than a UTI. Okay, I am sure there are worse things but while you are peeing fire, the list is pretty small. Hope you feel better soon.

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  5. Fantastic post! You really have a great way with words, especially the peeing spicy salsa bit. That really does illustrate it quite well!
    I hear you on the weight gain. This past year (when I started running) I have gained so much weight that I thought surely my thyroid was messed up.
    It wasn’t, as you probably remember, I also went through a phase where my hair was falling out in chunks.
    Maybe I was just putting too much stress on my body? My docs (yes, plural) had no clue.

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