Eight days before 2012 Slanghoek Triathlon, I woke with that familiar
scratchy throat and knew that an impromptu rest day was called for. I
say eight days before Slanghoek, though the following day I was
competing in a 4.5k hill climb time trial on the bike, and an 85k road
race which both formed a part of the Western Province Spring League
cycle series. I am leading the ladies category and whilst it should
remain a comfortable lead, I did not wish to gift my points to the
very few other ladies competing (WHERE ARE YOU TRI GIRLS? League is
not scary, honestly!) So I slept while the kids were at school,
pretended that nothing was wrong, drank a hundred cups of Lemon and
Ginger herbal tea, popped every benign herbal placebo I could get from
the hippy health store, and hoped I was fine for the bike races. I was
lucky…winning the hill climb by a minute and a half and embarrassing
a few guys, and riding fairly strongly in the West Coast Express was
beaten into 2nd in a sprint with SA track superstar Maroesjka Matthee.
As the road race funriders were finishing, the wind really picked up
and the temperature dropped. I cuddled my black coffee and basically
anyone willing (!) to keep warm while waiting for prizegiving. I
spent the rest of the day wrapped up in all my winter clothes, beanie
on in the house, and catching up on germ warfare with my snotty nosed
boys. I love my family, but there are times when I think I’d be safer
living on the streets than being exposed to the stuff they bring home
from school.
Monday morning. My neck glands are slightly swollen, I am tired. The
twitter feed already going wild with chat about Slanghoek. My rational
brain tells me to ‘focus long term, if I get sick then I sit this one
out’. It is only a race. My social brain says ‘but I want to be
there!’. My rational brain says ‘but you’ll tire yourself yapping to
people you don’t even know’. ‘Yes, rational brain, that is true, and I
might make other triathletes sick and then they will have reason to
dislike me’. ‘You’re talking to yourself! A cold is a minor concern!
Insanity is far more worrying..’. ‘All triathletes are on the unhinged
spectrum, it goes with the long hours training..’ I have conversations
like this with myself most of the day. I sit on the IDT for an hour
easy, hoping to sweat it away. Outside, the sun shines mockingly at me
through the small garage window. I climb off the bike and think,
‘Kapow! take that germs. I am stronger than you. I see a friend for a
neurobion (Vitamin B) shot and resolve to go to bed at 8pm and sleep
and wake up well’.
Tuesday. Uh. I have been in bed for 10 hours. Did I sleep? Am I
better? I am not sure*. I must be, I’ve done everything possible to be
better. Anyway, Im ‘only’ training aerobically today. 4 hours and a
bit of bike-run-pilates later, I’m coughing a little. Was that a
sneeze? Another early night, and I’m starting to be a bit grouchy.
Wednesday. ‘Hello congestion. Hello cough. I’m still going to beat
you, you know?’ (Nothing like a positive attitude to scare germs
away). More sleep by day, this time, the twitchy sleep you get when
your heart is racing and the Whatsapps are flying ‘How are you
feeling?’….I feel annoyed, irritable, resentful but still not
properly SICK. ‘What does the doc say?’ Seriously?? Am I supposed to
go to see a doctor when I’m feeling ‘just a bit coldy’? I’ve always
giggled at South Africans who tell me they have flu. I had flu once. I
could barely walk down the stairs for 6 days, and it took 2 weeks to
begin to feel that life was better than death. But in SA you get flu
at least twice each winter apparently. So, no doctor.
Thursday. Same old same old, except I’m stiffening up from having had
another rest day yesterday. When you approach 40, you actually can’t
afford to stand still too long else you just become a granny
overnight. It’s true. So today, I am off to the gym to do a spot of
functional work (try and stop me!), sit in the steam room, and wallow
in a shower that doesn’t spray my bedroom floor.
Friday I will make a decision. I have to consider the next week or
two…there is no point racing Slanghoek and having another week like
this written off because I am not fit to train. Life goes on. There is
always another race. If you see me on the start line it is because I
am well*. No excuses.
*totally unquantifiable terms, I accept no responsibility for being
proved wrong!
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