Dear Marathon Fairy,
I have been told by others that you show up at the end of a marathon and ease the load for the runner. That you babysit children and clean up the house. That you would let me rest and recover without interruption. But I am starting to wonder if you are ever going to show up.
I mean, isn't it enough that I pushed myself through 26.2 miles while my digestive tract exploded? Can't I get a little help around here? In your absence, recovery has been slow and I am blaming it on you. Also, I am blaming the following issues on your failure to arrive ...
The fact that I now appear to have a sinus infection. My whole face hurts. It hurts to chew. And let's just say, when I blow my nose, well, it's not clear. Oh, and did I mention that every time I cough, I feel like I am being stabbed just to the left of my belly button. What's up with that?
Or, what about the fact that everyone in my household is sick. I sent three kids to bed with fevers last night. They are whiny and cranky and just a pain to be around. And who gets to tend to their every need? Right. Me. Not the Marathon Fairy who failed to show up. And did you get them memo that J is sick too. Plus, he has Poison Ivy. Add to that the fact that men are notoriously wimpy when it comes to illness and you can see I have my hands full.
I ran yesterday. And it went OK. But, if we are being honest here, I AM WEAK. I am no longer sore, but I feel like my muscles don't have the power to get me up the stairs. And thanks to you, Marathon Fairy, I have to go up and down the stairs a lot.
I have no energy. I fell asleep at 2 p.m. yesterday while my kids played. And last night, I couldn't make it to the end of Biggest Loser. Thanks for making me miss all my favorite shows.
I gained 8 pounds. Sure, it's probably my own fault for eating too much food during the past month or two, but maybe if you had shown up, I could have been taking a nap instead of shoveling food down my throat.
Yours in running,