Still in bed, I looked at the numbers on the old mercury filled oral thermometer…
My body temperature was registering at just over 100 degrees fahrenheit. It’s not high enough to be really and truly sick, rather just enough of a fever to make me feel like warmed over dogmeat. I glanced at the clock on my nightstand. Ugggh. I need to get up and get this day started. Maybe just 15 more minutes of sleep.
My tummy has been feeling off for a couple of days. I had attributed the malaise to an overindulgence of the fruity variety, namely Bing cherries, which I purchase from the local packing shed in twenty pound boxes. Now, with a slight fever burning in me, I’m not so sure that the cherries are responsible.
Last night, as I was cooking dinner for my 95 year old grandmother, the nausea was hitting me in waves. Granny is a meat and potatoes kind of gal, and the smell of the steak and potatoes sizzling in butter on the stove, just put me over the edge. (I should note, that I DO NOT eat this kind of food, but at 95, Granny’s doctor has advised that she can eat whatever she wants.) The nausea inspired me to reach for a lemon lime soda. I normally do NOT drink soda pop. I think it is akin to the devil with regard to achieving my fitness goals. The full calorie variety contain way too much sugar and corn syrup and even the low calorie versions are loaded with poisonous chemicals. For me, a former diet pepsi addict, I mostly just say no. The one exception, is when I have an upset tummy. There is just something about the bubbles in a lemon-lime soda that goes a long way toward alleviating that ever so icky, I’m about to toss my cookies, feeling.
I had placed a plastic bottle containing lemon lime soda into the freezer in the hopes of rapidly cooling it to its optimal consumptive temperature. I was puttering around the kitchen, slicing veggies for a salad, and another wave of nausea hit me. I swung open the freezer door, feeling the icy air escaping into my hot kitchen. I grabbed the soda, and began to twist the cap. It should have been a clue when I did not hear the tell tale whoosh of air as the seal between the bottle and its lid was broken. I unscrewed the lid and truly, I don’t recall if there was a momentary delay between normalcy and all hell breaking loose in my kitchen. KA-FREAKING-BOOM! The entire contents of the 16.9 ounce bottle exploded into my face. Instinctively, my eyes slammed shut and remained that way for a good little while. I had the feeling that I had just had a “little puff of air glaucoma test” times 1,000. As I stood there, in shock, my eyes still squeezed tightly closed, I could feel soda raining down on me from the ceiling. So, is this Karma? I preach the evils of soda on a regular basis and when I am oh so hypocritical and choose to indulge, this is how I am rewarded. Sigh.
Sleep quality was not great last night. I felt too hot, too cold, nauseous, achy, and itchy. Which leads me back to my annoying little alarm clock that I had reset for an extra fifteen minutes of shut-eye. Reluctantly, I drug myself out of bed, made coffee, choked down some shredded wheat and headed out to the gym. The ladies are waiting for me and I must go!
Run 2 miles Moderate pace
100 One and a quarter Body Weight Squats
Run 1 mile Moderate Pace
100 Sumo Air Squats with Lateral Leg Raise
Run 220 Moderate Pace
Walking lunges 130
Ass burners 50 each leg
100 Yard Sprint with Low Hurdles x 2
Jog 1/2 mile back to the gym…
Home now, I am reflecting back on my time at the gym this morning, I was warming up on the elliptical. I was in the midst of the usual good-natured cacophony of excuses that we tell ourselves at the gym. On some level, I think that this is okay. It is a way to bond with each other. This is hard, and this is why, but we are here doing it anyway. On the other hand, I completely believe that what we tell ourselves is so powerful. By merely stating, that I didn’t sleep well last night, my hip hurts, my muscles are sore, and so on, we are setting ourselves up to be less than we can be. Why make excuses at all? This morning, I had to interject. “Okay ladies, no excuses today. I have a one hundred degree fever. I’m here, and if I can do this, so can you.” One of the gals asked incredulously, “Why are you here?” Which is a very valid question. I’m here because, I want to burn it out! Here’s the thing. I believe that if I can raise my body temperature through exercise, before something has a chance to grab hold of me, that there is the possibility I can kill it before it does. This only works for me if whatever bug I am entertaining has not fully taken up residence. If I am full blown sick, then in to bed I go. Most of the medical advice that can be found online is counter intuitive the burn it off strategy. However, I know several athletes who swear by this method. I am not a doctor, nor a scientist. I cannot back this up with studies and data, nor can I recommend that you try this at home; however, for me, this has worked in the past. It makes sense if you think about it. A fever is a function of your immune system designed to help the body fight infections. Bacteria and viruses cannot live at higher temperatures and are killed by fever. Can you see where I get my logic? Unfortunately for me, at least initially, today’s efforts were only marginally successful.
Home again, still feeling queasy, I popped the thermometer into my mouth. Just over one hundred degrees. That bed of mine is looking mighty comfy. I slid between the sheets and pulled the covers up over my head. Just a little more down time to let the fever do its work. Thank God tomorrow is another day.