Well, I did not have to contend with sun, water issues, or speed concerns. Instead something I never dreamed of worrying about came into play: food poisoning. Two hours after I wrote that last post it came violently into my awareness and Saturday was a day of pretty excruciating discomfort. I've never had food poisoning before and in my adult memory cannot remember feeling such a loss of my own body. I was whimpering and trembling, I blacked out, and had more gory and intense experiences with my malfunctioning digestive system than any of us would like to relive here.
In a heroic act of denial I did insist on going to the Expo to pick up my number and my chip (with disastrous results). The death march into the registration area, Housemate holding me up, with frequent stops to rest and strategize about how we would get back to the car two blocks away, was the closest I got to the marathon and the most triumphant thing I was capable of.
On Monday morning I'm at about 95%. I do feel like I've been kicked down a staircase. I'm still pretty weak but I can, for example, walk around and open a bottle of Gatorade without help. I am even experiencing some sensations that might be hunger, although I have a whole lot of trepidation about food and am not particularly interested in putting any in my body.
Yesterday as I started recovering my physical faculties the emotional disappointment kicked in. Damn, man, this goal has been really important to me for several months now, and after the dumping I was really looking forward to returning to my daily life with a feeling of empowerment, strength, achievement. Instead my experience was of pretty extreme humiliation, weakness, powerlessness. And I have no clue about the marathon at all -- couldn't even get out of the darkened motel room to cheer on Housemate.
Even the horoscope in the glossy women's magazine I was listlessly thumbing through was a bit of a kick in the teeth. Get this:
Ruling planet Jupiter begins its retrograde on the 3rd. Opportunities that seemed within reach vanish, and you wonder if they ever existed at all. Spend the month working hard to make your own luck by actively seeking out the next opportunity, and your efforts will be rewarded by summer.
By summer?!? Cripes -- they never make you wait that long for some bright shiny promise of a windfall or a new romance or a promotion. Somebody, throw me a bone here.
Anyway, it's hard to stay too down as my body comes back to life. I'm really grateful for that. And I've decided to walk 26.2 miles in Portland next weekend. I'm going to wear my number and that damn chip I stumbled in to the expo to get.