One month to go? What!
Training last week went well. Workouts hit my target numbers. My steady state workout felt so good I considered doing another piece. The bathtub and I convened again at Owsley Reservoir for some high rate work. Added more weight like a beast. Like I said, good building week.
Little did I know the sniffles loomed around the corner. Caelan had been coughing for a week. Allergies, I said.
Alan turned another year older. We celebrated camping on the (unrowable) upper Cumberland River. Fun, except for my inability to sleep. Coughing, sore from rowing, and a brand-new camper mattress. Second night I took a sleeping pill.
The coughing worsened. The congestion. The throat irritation. Allergies, I said, except allergy medicine didn’t work. By Tuesday, Caelan’s sent home early from preschool and I’m on the Nyquil/Dayquil/cough suppression/pleasemakeitstop diet. Alan had to sleep in another room thanks to the choking, body-wracking, sudden coughing attacks.
Unfortunately, FISA is four weeks away. I cannot rest. No time to take it easy. I’ve worked out each day. Misery. Imagine breathing through a straw while running anything: a mile, a marathon, whatever. That’s my comparison for sucking oxygen when erging an anaerobic or high-rate session. In terms of performance, of course nothing met expectations. The hope is to avoid sliding backwards, go as hard as possible, and to defeat this funk NOW.
Wednesday the coughing fits made my ribs sore. All I could think: “PLEASE DON’T LET ME BREAK A RIB NOW.”
I did make some adjustments, like adding more rest time between intervals, or doing back-to-back steady state sessions. No plyometrics, no kettlebells. This morning lifting a series of slightly heavy 10 reps wore me out. My 40-minute piece in workout session two is not something I care to repeat anytime soon (-2 seconds off spilt every 1k). That piece knocked a stream of nasty gunk from the sinuses. Hopefully, I’ve turned a corner.
FOUR WEEKS to row.