One step too far...

Apparently I am not listening quite as well to my body as I thought I was. Yesterday was much like any other day this week. I was still not one-hundred percent, but I didn't feel horrible. I had gotten my cough under control finally and even though I still felt off, I really thought it was more a result of allergies kicking in than the last remnants of the virus. I decided I was well enough to try and get back on track with my pre-vacation work-outs.

I had planned to hit the elliptical, but the machines were full, so I opted to hit the treadmill again, only I decided I should try to pick up the pace from the day before. My husband had mentioned that sometimes when he is at the tail end of a cold, he would find that a run would help him break up the last vestiges of congestion. I knew I wasn't ready to run, but I did think perhaps that a brisker walk would have the same affect for me, and I had not been coughing which may have been why I let my guard down. The first two miles went great. I wasn't able to get back up to my fifteen minute mile, but I was at 15:23, so I was pretty close. Everything was feeling pretty good, and then my feet started to tingle.

I had grabbed another pair of socks that were a little too big (truth be told, they were my husband's socks again, but I was covering them with long pants this time), so I attributed the problem to too much sock in my shoe instead of recognizing it as a harbinger of a more serious problem. There was a particularly riveting Law and Order on, and I was focusing on the show, not my tingling feet or my neighbor's socks or lack there of. As I watched myself virtually round the first quarter into the third mile, I started feeling a little off. I couldn't quite put my finger on the problem, but I just didn't feel great all of a sudden. I finally tuned into my body enough to slow down a little. I was probably just pacing myself a little too fast. I reduced my pace to a 17 minute mile and waited for the sensation to pass, but it didn't. I slowed down a little farther, and continued walking convinced I would feel better any minute; I really wanted to make my three miles, and I was sure if I just slowed down enough, I could push my way through the sensation and keep walking. I took another step and the room started spinning. I finally had the good sense to stop the treadmill and get off. But I had clearly taken one step too many, and as I stepped onto the floor, the room tossed and turned as if I were back on the boat.

I gathered my things and made my way back to my car where I had to sit for another ten minutes before I was able to consider driving home. I pondered what had happened. I realized I had simply let my desire to push myself farther overtake my good sense. Had I simply taken things slow to begin with, I probably would have made it through my work-out just fine, but I was trying too hard to impress myself and perhaps my village. I chastised myself for the multiple wrongs: pushing too hard, pushing too long, not listening to the warning signs, but at some point I let myself off the hook. It was going to be a learning curve to balance the old me who used every excuse to avoid working out and the new me who actually was pushing herself to do more.Tomorrow I would do a better job at listening to what my body was telling me.