Having felt good in the boat Tuesday and taken the final antibiotic pill that evening, I was upbeat. I eagerly anticipated my return to full strength, and I planned to spend the second half of this week getting in a couple of good substantial workouts before resting up for my next race a week from Saturday.
Unfortunately, wishing doesn't always make it so. I've woken up early the last couple of mornings experiencing waves of nausea. This morning in particular, I was in some pretty acute agony: in addition to the nausea there was this queer pain up in my upper chest and throat area, making me wonder if I had some kind of respiratory ailment. I alternated between hanging out in the bathroom waiting to throw up and lying in bed trying desperately to fall back asleep. After a lot of dry-heaving I finally managed to vomit up some liquid matter. By this time it was about 6:30 and I figured I might as well try to ingest something. I had some water and a banana and a cup of coffee, and then I decided to go to bed. Happily, I fell back asleep until about nine o'clock.
And now I sit here in the late morning, feeling much better than I did back around six o'clock but doubtful that I have much paddling or other exercise in me today. I may just have to accept that it will take a while longer for my body to return to normal after taking those harsh drugs for ten days.
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