Asa has a fever.  The day’s been filled with apple juice, popsicles, soup, Tylenol, hours of “Frog and Toad” stories — and no running.   I called Eliot in a bit of a panic this afternoon.  “Asa’s sick and he might not be able to go to school tomorrow and I HAVE to run 35 miles!”  He was hip deep in work and responded with something like, “And you want me to do what exactly?”  I was left to sit in the ruined house of cards by myself.  Nothing like a sick child to remind you how delicately balanced all those cards were in the first place.

I’m not going to worry about it until tomorrow morning.  If worse comes to worst, the treadmill and I will do what needs to be done when Eliot gets home.  One benefit of the treadmill torture is that it makes running on a totally unfamiliar, hilly course against amazingly fast and healthy runners in 18 days seem like a gift.  (Which, of course, it is.)  Honestly, I am thankful for my blessings; No more reminders of my good fortune necessary.  Really!

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3 Responses to Sick

  1. Clea says:

    I totally understand your situation. I cannot imagine 35 miles on the treadmill, but I know you do what you have to do. Last week I almost resorted to running about 100 loops around my very small block to get my run in. Good luck!

    • lizahoward says:

      Thanks for your thoughts Clea and Sara. Asa stayed home, and the treadmilling was really really ugly towards the end, but it’s done — and now I’m drinking a big glass of wine. I’m glad you didn’t have to any laps around the backyard Clea. I have a friend here who ran 6 miles in her backyard when her sitter fell through. Addicts. We’re all addicts.

  2. Sara G says:

    I hope that Asa gets better soon! Yes, a sick child throws off the delicate balances of our lives… I hope that it all works out.

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