post

Rough As A Badger’s Arse

To say that I am feeling rough today would be an understatement. I have that exhausted, fuzzy-in-the-brain, all-over achy feeling that is usually associated with the aftermath of a weekend of heavy drinking and dedicated partying.

I guess this is partly true. On Saturday our bridal party threw a Jack & Jill party for us. One of the groomsmen showed up with several bottles of wine and a beer-filled cooler that could have sunk a small ship. “Drink!” he commanded. “Enjoy!”

Well, orders are orders. I drank. I enjoyed. The guys crowded around the cooler of beer like bees around a honeypot, while me and most of the other women present tucked into the wine.

It was an outstanding evening. There was food, there were happy people, there was a lovely raffle prize (which was won by my five-year-old), and there was the incredible spectacle of my soon-to-be mother-in-law enthusiastically throwing a pie into the face of her firstborn son, the groom-to-be.

Eventually the guests left, leaving Gerard and I to settle our over-excited children. By the time we fell into an exhausted sleep ourselves, it must have been close to two in the morning.

I woke up yesterday morning with a well-earned hangover – the kind that comes complete with a queasy stomach, an excruciating headache and a death wish. I stumbled into the bathroom to get some extra-strength Tylenol and some water. Then I somehow – probably by luck more than anything else -found my way back to bed, and with the room spinning around me, I went back to sleep.

For a change, the kids were not up at the crack of dawn, as they usually are on weekends. They let me sleep, the little treasures.

When I woke up for the second time, I still felt kind of gross, but at least I felt as if I was going to live. I got up and went for a run (I say that as if it was a seamless event – the process of getting up and going for a run actually took about three hours).

The run was hard. The weather was bad. I was exhausted at the end of it – as if I hadn’t already been exhausted to begin with.

You’d think I would have slept last night, but no. Not only is George going through one of his phases of not sleeping, my mind is chock-full of details right now and just isn’t letting me rest. I tossed and turned and eventually fell into a fitful sleep, not long before I had to wake up.

To borrow a wonderful phrase from a book I read (This Charming Man by Marian Keyes, if you’re interested), today I am feeling as rough as a badger’s arse.

After another seventeen or so cups of coffee, I might start to feel normal.

post

Rain and Orange Jackets

On New Years Day, I woke up feeling a little tired, but without any trace of a hangover.  This has less to do with any miracle cure than with the fact that our festivities (a word I use very loosely for lack of a better term) were somewhat restrained in nature.  I got dressed in my running clothes, and while the rest of my household was still sleeping, I drove out to Whitby to take part in the 2011 Resolution Run.

The weather was absolutely foul.  It was cold, and there was so much rain that when I got to the venue, I almost needed a canoe in order to cross the parking lot.  On a day like that, I was grateful that the event was starting and ending at a community centre with enough real washrooms to accommodate the crowd.  This is a big deal for female runners.  I mean, have you ever tried peeing in a Porta-potty while it’s raining cats and dogs?  If you haven’t, don’t.  It’s not pleasant.

I was struck by how many runners there were.  This was New Years Day, the day after what was, for many, a long night of hard partying.  Among a couple of thousand runners, there must have been more than a few hangovers or, at the least, people feeling totally exhausted.  And it was cold.  And raining so much that at the end of the 5km my shoes were squelching.  All of the runners who were there were showing some pretty incredible insanity obsession dedication.

I was also struck by the sea of orange.  Every year, the Running Room gives away running jackets to Resolution Run registrants.  The jackets are always different: this year, they were orange.  And because the vast majority of us were running in our new jackets, the crowd as a whole looked kind of – well, flourescent.  We were probably visible from the moon, like some kind of beacon.  I felt sorry for anyone with a hangover who had to look at that.

The jacket is really very nice, though.

The run itself went well.  It’s been a long time since I ran in a 5km event, and it was kind of nice to just be able to go hell-for-leather and not worry about pacing strategies.  I finished the run in just over 32 minutes, which I was happy with considering what the weather was like.  Hell, I was happy to just get out and run, considering what the weather was like.  If I hadn’t been registered for this event, there’s no way I would have gone out for a run.

What did you do on New Years Day?  Were you nursing a hangover or starting to make good on your New Years Resolutions?

post

Running: A Great Hangover Cure

On Saturday night, Gerard and I went to my work Christmas party.  It was quite a fancy shindig, in the grand ballroom of an expensive hotel.  The waitstaff were wearing black tie and gliding elegantly around the room carrying huge platters.  There were elaborately wrapped guest favours, a lineup for the photo op that reminded me a bit of senior prom, and a dessert table that included two chocolate fountains.  There were free drinks both before and during dinner, so I drank far more than my usual sedate one glass of wine.

Predictably enough, I woke up on Sunday morning with the mother of all red wine hangovers.  You know the kind – dry mouth, queasy stomach, little men with little but very real jackhammers on the inside of your head.  What I really wanted to do was eat Tylenol like candy, and then roll over and go back to sleep for the rest of the day.
Instead, I got up, with every movement feeling like torture, and got dressed.  With a fuzzy head, I drove to the community centre, and when I saw my fellow running club members, my “Hi” came out as a weird-sounding croak. When the other runners started running, I gritted my teeth and ran too.

It was a hard run.  Very, very hard.  Of course, I had three things again.  First, I had this massive hangover.  Second, I hadn’t run for three weeks.  Third, I was recovering from a nasty bout of bronchitis. Considering all of this, it’s a miracle that I was able to get out and run in the first place.  A hard run was made harder by snowy, slippery conditions, and by the time I’d run 4km, my heart rate was way up.

In the end, I managed just over 5km, and I didn’t do it very well.  The distance runner in me was disappointed with this dismal performance, but the plain old runner in me was thrilled to be back on the road again after an enforced break of three weeks.  The best part of all?  The run knocked the hangover right out of me, and I felt great afterwards, and happily joined the other runners for breakfast (side note: breakfasts contain a huge amount of protein for one meal).

The key to all of this for me is that I am back.  Yes, I had bronchitis and no, I am not quite 100% yet.  But I am well enough to run again, and confident that I will start the new year on a strong note when I do the January 1st Resolution Run.