Coming home from work yesterday, I just wasn’t with it. I had an upset stomach, it felt a lot like heartburn (and I don’t get heartburn. Ever) and I was exhausted. I sat on my bed with my cycling clothes next to me and all I wanted to do was sleep. Wiped out is a better term than “exhausted”.
I figured it was stress so I set a goal of just suiting up. Once accomplished, I set a new goal of getting out the door with my Trek. Accomplished.
The next goal was ten miles. Just put in ten miles and come home. A little more than 30 minutes. Accomplished. Ten miles in I still had seven and a half to get home. The new goal was 17-1/2 miles in under an hour. Not bad for a recovery ride. Accomplished. 58 minutes, 30 seconds. Everything shut down and in the house, I showered up – and that’s when it hit me. The first real wave of nausea. Even under the hot water and after a ride just shy of room temperature, I was freezing. Food poisoning. Without question.
The rest of the night was a blur, in and out sleep. I woke up at midnight after falling asleep at 7:30 and had a miserable time getting back to sleep. I hurt all over. Sleep consumed me eventually, though, and I didn’t wake up till just before the alarm. The chills left sometime in the middle of the night, and I felt a lot better. Still a little rough around the edges, but I’ll live. It’s 3:45 am and I’m headed for the shower and my 2-hour commute in to work. It’s going to be a hectic day and there’s no way I’ll be able to miss, so I’m going to suck it up.
If anything, it’ll be interesting.
And that’s a first, by the way – toughing out a bike ride in just an hour before full-blown food poisoning sets in. Stupid, maybe, but it was actually a nice ride… except when I almost hurled on my top tube after two miles into a dead-east wind. Woof.
For those who “listen to their body”, I’m pretty sure mine had a curse word or two laced into something about me being stupid. Better than a swift kick in the butt, though.