Runners Down!!

If you believe in karma, then the Humenanskys have been a very bad couple. Paybacks have arrived for the time that they ducked the semi-acquaintance in the grocery store, lost a wedding RSVP card, left their shed to rot in the backyard, and - - worst offense of all - - let their kids eat happy meals. (You can blame that last one just on me, Darth Vader wants nothing to do with it.)

It was bad enough when I was the only one who was receiving punishment for deeds done wrong. After swearing that I would not write just to complain about my ailments, this one has gone on long enough and has affected my workout schedule so profoundly that I think it now falls under the category of things worthy to blog about when the blog’s title is “It Runs In the Family,” because nothing is running in this family right now, and from my end, it’s a stupid, end of summer cold. I have been coughing like husky, aged male for almost two weeks now, combined with the worst sore throat I have ever had. Seriously. If you looked at the back of my throat with a flashlight, you would see something out of a horror film. I forced Darth Vader to look at it from a distance, and I think he wants to banish me from the house until it goes away. When the doctor looked at it, she said . . . and before I tell you this, I have to tell you that I have this uncanny ability to bring out the “girlfriend” in all of my female doctors. My OB was always like, “Hey giiiirl,” every time I went for a checkup while I was pregnant . . . Anyway, when my GP looked at my throat, she said, “Oh man, that is some naaaaasty stuff you’ve got back there.” I love that I make people feel comfortable when they are talking to me, but sometimes, I just want the professional opinion. What exactly IS that naaaaaasty stuff, and why is it making me feel so bad?

To make a long and boring story about my health short, my after some awkward gagging with my eyes bugged out while the assistant poked swabs at the nasty stuff in my throat, my strep test was negative. As a result, I must have a virus, like one that won’t go away, because it’s four days later and I still have the same symptoms, even after being on a Z-pack. I do feel a bit more energetic, however, hence the blog writing the night before my first full day of students instead of sleeping, packing lunches, getting my clothes ready, or any of that other productive garbage!

Consequently, the workouts have come to a halt. After three weeks of working out six days a week with renewed vigor from my decision to do the little triathlon in September and assembling my team for the Akron Marathon (thank you, thank you, my team, if you are out there), everything has just stopped due to this illness robbing me of my strength. I’m approaching that point where I get nervous about starting again. What if I can’t run as far when I feel better? Will I have to build up my leg strength again to bike well? New beginnings are great, but I have never been a fan of starting over. There is a great difference between the two.

Now onto the other adult in this family from whom karma has come to collect: Darth Vader. DV came home the other night from his weekly “track workout,” where runners of unusual speed (ROUS) run multiple times as fast as they can around an oval - - or something like that. It’s way more organized and sophisticated, but I do not partake in these so called “track workouts,” so I really have no place to be discussing them at any length. He came home and slowly, very, very slowly crept up the stairs to where I was beginning to read our kids their bedtime stories. I met him in the doorway of Princess Lea’s room. It took a millisecond to see something was wrong. “What’s wrong with you? Are you sore, hurt, injured? You’re injured, aren’t you? Do you need to, like, go to the hospital? What happened? Does anyone else know about this?” I pelted him with questions. (Sometimes I am an awesome, wife, don’t you think?)

“Injured,” he said as he gingerly sat himself in the chair in Princess Lea’s room.

Simply stated, Vader is hurt . . .for the first time ever. It’s something that I’ve known could be lurking on the horizon, but never really let myself think about. You see, Darth Vader lives a simple life. Family, running, work. These are the things he does. These are his priorities, and I completely respect him for that, but what happens when number two on the priority list gets put on the injured reserve list for a bit? You are left with family and work, which could cause a person to go mad at times, I would guess.

I guess we’re about to find out.

So the man and woman of the Humenansky household are both down for the count, while Skywalker and Princess Lea take over the world. Only time will tell how long our friend karma will stick around. I should probably go pay my library fine (for keeping children’s books too long) just incase.