I'm starting to think that my life is giant conspiracy against me running target marathons. This week should have been the final push, but I started with a burning sensation in my throat on Tuesday evening. By Thursday morning my left tonsil had swollen up and was bright red. I felt like (and still feel like) I'd been hit by a bus. Game over.
To add to the fun at 10am yesterday, as I was skulking on the sofa, my cat appeared from upstairs and sat down briefly. She was very fidgety and every time she moved she left behind a little wet patch. I called the vet (no mean feat since I had very little voice), covered the sofa and floor in kitchen towel and panicked that I'd made her ill by giving her an infection. The vet said that's not possible, but it's rather a coincidence don't you think. They kept her for a few hours to administer antibiotics and do tests. Driving to the vets twice was soooo not safe. I think I had about 7 near misses in each direction each time. And I have to go back today to get some medication for her that they ordered in. She actually seems much better, except that she isn't jumping up on the sofa or the bed.
I am not much better. The burning sensation in my throat has passed but I am feverish, one minute boiling and sweating, the next freezing and shivering. I look like shit and the house looks like a bomb has hit it.
Had I done the training I maybe wouldn't worry about the marathon being effected, but the fact is that I'm 200 miles plus short on the schedule already, most of which have been missed in the last few weeks. I'm not in the best shape anyway so there's no point subjecting my body to the stress of it. Best to move on I think.
But hey, the IBS has been better behaved of late. Except for a really bad case of bloating post Great North Run (caused by eating something from the goody bag - there were problems with the transport on the way home and I was stuck on a platform for over an hour with no access to any other food).
Profile Pic
Stafford HM 2014
Friday 18 September 2015
Sunday 6 September 2015
Peak mileage week decimated by colonoscopy
There will be waaaay TMI in this blog, you have been warned!
On Monday I had to start the ridiculous white food prep diet. The instructions were to eat foods ONLY from this list: boiled chicken, boiled or steamed white fish, eggs, cheese, milk, white bread, white potatoes with no skin, rich tea biscuits. Yuk.
I have to admit I was looking forward to breakfast a bit though. Cheese on toast. OK, so it was lactose free cheese on whit toast with no Lee and Perrins, but since I'm intolerant to dairy and avoiding wheat for Fodmap elimination, I haven't had such a thing in ages. It was rather lovely. Less lovely was my morning run. 6 treadmill miles of slog. By the time I'd subjected myself to plain boiled chicken with boiled potatoes and a little cheese and a few rich teas I was feeling sluggish. The planned 10 miler for the afternoon turned into a 4 mile plod. I did manage a weights workout though.
On Tuesday I got up early for a 4 mile run before work but had to run at a slower pace than normal. I finished work around 1pm and hoped to fit in another 6 miles before starting to take the laxative, but I had no energy. I only managed a little over a mile.
So the time came to take the Moviprep and I relocated upstairs with some nice drinks to intersperse with the laxative. The instructions said to expect things to start happening as soon as you take the first dose, to stay near a toilet and advise the use of a barrier cream. It took an hour an a half to chug through the first litre and nothing happened. Well, my stomach swelled up with all the liquid in it, but I tried to go to the loo and nothing came out. I started the second dose at 7pm and finished it at 8.30pm. Still nothing. My stomach was huge and squishy and tender, but still nothing moving. I was getting worried by this point. Finally at 9.30pm, five and a half hours after starting, I was able to go. It was just like water. No explosion, no cramps, just a steady stream of liquid. There was never any urgency and I went maybe 4 or 5 times in total before falling asleep in the early hours. Plus once more on waking. I was so convinced it hadn't worked properly!
I got antsy sitting around the house so I decided to walk to the hospital. This may not have been the smartest plan in retrospect, but I was OK. Just hungry. I was nervous and it seemed an age before I was called in. It didn't help that the air con was broken in the waiting room. After a questionnaire they gave me a gown and dressing gown and ..... dignity shorts. I laughed out loud. They were navy blue and made out of papery stuff. One size fits all and it's a good job I'm fat at the minute because they hung off my hips and ended just above my knees. There was a flap at the back with velcro. Yes, really. They took me through to theatre and asked me if I knew what they were going to do to me. D'uh, yes! What exactly? They ask. You're sticking a camera where the sun don't shine, says I. And so they did. After plugging me in to the sedative and sticking some sort of giant cotton wool ball up my nose (I have no clue what that was). Memories are hazy but I recall seeing the screen and thinking it wasn't very attractive inside me. Very pink and tubular. I also recall some discomfort going around the bends, but no pain. Then it was done. I think I would have liked to have spent a bit longer lying down but I must have been compis mentis enough to satisfy criteria and they moved me to a changing cubicle where I had to sit up and drink coffee and eat bourbon biscuits before they would take the annoying canula out of my arm. Oh, alright then. They handed me my discharge sheets and left me to get changed before finally dumping me in the waiting room to wait for my friend to collect me. All done.
I was a bit spaced out for the rest of the day. It was like being on drugs. Well, I suppose I was! I did manage to watch Despicable Me 2 and the Free From Bake Off (useless!), but that was it.
I expected to feel normal again on Thursday but it was like having a hangover. I was so tired and nauseous. And also starving hungry. Yup, just like a hangover. I hoped to make it out in the evening for a short run and to collect my prescription, but that was soooo not happening.
Back to work on Friday and it took a few hours to wake up properly, then I felt fine for the rest of the day. Great, I can get a decent run in, I thought.... By the time I'd done a full day, collected my prescription and waited an age to get it filled at the chemist I was done in. No run for me.
Having done no proper training all week I thought I'd better do something useful on Saturday. So I took myself off to Gedling to reclaim my course record at the stupidly hilly parkrun. 20.46, the course record is mine again but jeez that is one hard course. I probably should have done an afternoon run but I was tired again having run a load of errands in the morning and then taking the cat to the vet in the afternoon.
Today was my last proper long run. 24 miles. I died a death in the last mile. Possibly related to the terrifying, sticky, black tinged with dark green poo that came out of me this morning. Totally freaked me out that did. I'm sure it's nothing to worry about as I'm back to my usual browny yellowy icky colour, albeit with a tinge of mid-green. Anyway, I'm treating that as a one off but monitoring. Life with IBS is such a treat.
A measly 45 miles for the week. It should have been 85.
On Monday I had to start the ridiculous white food prep diet. The instructions were to eat foods ONLY from this list: boiled chicken, boiled or steamed white fish, eggs, cheese, milk, white bread, white potatoes with no skin, rich tea biscuits. Yuk.
I have to admit I was looking forward to breakfast a bit though. Cheese on toast. OK, so it was lactose free cheese on whit toast with no Lee and Perrins, but since I'm intolerant to dairy and avoiding wheat for Fodmap elimination, I haven't had such a thing in ages. It was rather lovely. Less lovely was my morning run. 6 treadmill miles of slog. By the time I'd subjected myself to plain boiled chicken with boiled potatoes and a little cheese and a few rich teas I was feeling sluggish. The planned 10 miler for the afternoon turned into a 4 mile plod. I did manage a weights workout though.
On Tuesday I got up early for a 4 mile run before work but had to run at a slower pace than normal. I finished work around 1pm and hoped to fit in another 6 miles before starting to take the laxative, but I had no energy. I only managed a little over a mile.
So the time came to take the Moviprep and I relocated upstairs with some nice drinks to intersperse with the laxative. The instructions said to expect things to start happening as soon as you take the first dose, to stay near a toilet and advise the use of a barrier cream. It took an hour an a half to chug through the first litre and nothing happened. Well, my stomach swelled up with all the liquid in it, but I tried to go to the loo and nothing came out. I started the second dose at 7pm and finished it at 8.30pm. Still nothing. My stomach was huge and squishy and tender, but still nothing moving. I was getting worried by this point. Finally at 9.30pm, five and a half hours after starting, I was able to go. It was just like water. No explosion, no cramps, just a steady stream of liquid. There was never any urgency and I went maybe 4 or 5 times in total before falling asleep in the early hours. Plus once more on waking. I was so convinced it hadn't worked properly!
I got antsy sitting around the house so I decided to walk to the hospital. This may not have been the smartest plan in retrospect, but I was OK. Just hungry. I was nervous and it seemed an age before I was called in. It didn't help that the air con was broken in the waiting room. After a questionnaire they gave me a gown and dressing gown and ..... dignity shorts. I laughed out loud. They were navy blue and made out of papery stuff. One size fits all and it's a good job I'm fat at the minute because they hung off my hips and ended just above my knees. There was a flap at the back with velcro. Yes, really. They took me through to theatre and asked me if I knew what they were going to do to me. D'uh, yes! What exactly? They ask. You're sticking a camera where the sun don't shine, says I. And so they did. After plugging me in to the sedative and sticking some sort of giant cotton wool ball up my nose (I have no clue what that was). Memories are hazy but I recall seeing the screen and thinking it wasn't very attractive inside me. Very pink and tubular. I also recall some discomfort going around the bends, but no pain. Then it was done. I think I would have liked to have spent a bit longer lying down but I must have been compis mentis enough to satisfy criteria and they moved me to a changing cubicle where I had to sit up and drink coffee and eat bourbon biscuits before they would take the annoying canula out of my arm. Oh, alright then. They handed me my discharge sheets and left me to get changed before finally dumping me in the waiting room to wait for my friend to collect me. All done.
I was a bit spaced out for the rest of the day. It was like being on drugs. Well, I suppose I was! I did manage to watch Despicable Me 2 and the Free From Bake Off (useless!), but that was it.
I expected to feel normal again on Thursday but it was like having a hangover. I was so tired and nauseous. And also starving hungry. Yup, just like a hangover. I hoped to make it out in the evening for a short run and to collect my prescription, but that was soooo not happening.
Back to work on Friday and it took a few hours to wake up properly, then I felt fine for the rest of the day. Great, I can get a decent run in, I thought.... By the time I'd done a full day, collected my prescription and waited an age to get it filled at the chemist I was done in. No run for me.
Having done no proper training all week I thought I'd better do something useful on Saturday. So I took myself off to Gedling to reclaim my course record at the stupidly hilly parkrun. 20.46, the course record is mine again but jeez that is one hard course. I probably should have done an afternoon run but I was tired again having run a load of errands in the morning and then taking the cat to the vet in the afternoon.
Today was my last proper long run. 24 miles. I died a death in the last mile. Possibly related to the terrifying, sticky, black tinged with dark green poo that came out of me this morning. Totally freaked me out that did. I'm sure it's nothing to worry about as I'm back to my usual browny yellowy icky colour, albeit with a tinge of mid-green. Anyway, I'm treating that as a one off but monitoring. Life with IBS is such a treat.
A measly 45 miles for the week. It should have been 85.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)