It’s taken me 28 years but I do believe I’ve found the cure for the common cold. Feeling under the weather? Follow these tried and true tips for getting yourself back in the pink and into your running shoes.
First, set yourself up for failure.
Step 1: Go, go, go. Leave little time for anything other that preparing for a career-making/breaking presentation and your very first marathon. This means lots of over time at the office and a minimum of 35 miles a week on the pavement. And don’t forget cross training — but do forget sleep.
Step 2: Just as your system reaches it’s breaking point, run a 10 mile race and beat your previous time by two whole minutes. Good — commence the chills, the sweats and a painfully scratchy throat.
Day One: Try to make it right.
Step 1: Take a Sudafed (the good stuff, now — if it doesn’t come straight from the hands of the pharmacist, it’s not worth your money) and plan to stay up all night because “non-drowsy” means exactly what it says. But don’t worry, you’ll finally get caught up with your Google Reader. At 3am — a suitably pathetic hour — fire off an email to your boss saying your sorry, but you won’t be able to come in and that you hope they can figure out how to un-jam the copier and make the coffee without you.
Step 2: Sleep. Wake only to mock your jealous spouse who does not have an excuse to play hookey. Sleep some more.
Step 3: Write an insanely long re-cap of the Race That Did You In with a glass of OJ in one hand and a Green Monster in the other. Putter on Facebook while you sip your way through a bowl of chicken and rice. Browse LinkedIn for jobs for your husband that don’t require him to work 55 hours a week for pittance while you guzzle 64 ozs of water. Lots of veggies for dinner and an early bedtime are essential.
Day Two: Back to the grind
Step 1: Return to work where your first order of business will be to un-jam the copier and make the coffee. Spend 3 hours answering emails, 2 hours scheduling company events, a mere 1.5 hours writing technical proposals — your primary responsibility — and, of course, 30 minutes analyzing the finish times of the Race That Did You In.
Step 2: Determine that it wouldn’t be smart to run today and that another day of rest is required for complete illness reversal. Also realize that you will not be able to stick to this decision on your own. Solution? Make a date for the Maryland State Fair where you will eat turkey legs the size of your foot and copious amounts of funnel cake. Note that you will have to pout and pretty-please a carney for said funnel cake as your dear husband will have spent all but the last of the cash on over-sugared lemonade, leaving you $1 short. The greasy, snaggle-toothed, funnel cake-maker will take pity on you and trade your measly $5 for a plate of deep fried dough that takes about $0.30 to make, but is clearly worth so much more.
Step 3: Pay 50 cents to see Brutus — the World’s Largest Pig, root for Barack O’Ribs Obama to overcome Hillary Rod-ham Clinton at the pig races, and spend 20 futile minutes hoping to see a chick enter the world at the birthing center. Forego the dizzying Tea Cups and the vomit-inducing Zipper for another, less sinus-congested day.
Step 4: Retire at a reasonable hour, knowing that an evening of quality time with your husband does a body good and is the ultimate medicine for the soul. Though, admittedly, funnel cake never hurts either.