Mike and I have both spent the last week with some sort of icky stomach bug. I'm not really up on how he's been dealing with it-- he's a plebe summer detailer, so I know he's trying to take it easy, but I also know that that's pretty much impossible because his job for the next couple weeks is literally to run around and scream at the plebes.
I have been unwilling to venture more than a few seconds trip away from a toilet for most of the past week, so running, needless to say, has not been an option. Also, since my sum total of food I've eaten in the past week= about four pieces of toast, three cups of jello, and 3 spoonfuls of applesauce I haven't had a whole lot of energy to expend on running. Most of my calorie intake is coming from gatorade and gingerale.
Well, okay, there was that half of a chicken ceaser wrap when I THOUGHT I was feeling better... but it only served to reinforce that I was in error when I THOUGHT I was feeling better. Thanks, stomach, for showing me who's boss.
I'm in Chicago now for the Schreiber Family Slugfest... it's the annual family softball game that my mom's side of the family puts together every year. I'm pretty sure I'm too weak to swing a bat, so I will not be an asset to my team. I got stuck in BWI for about six hours yesterday-- a big flight delay due to a 10 minute thunderstorm. No joke. It was not cool, and then I was stuck on an airplane for 3 hours. It could not have been a more miserable way to spend a day when your stomach is upset. It completely wiped me out, and now I'm in my favorite city and I'm stuck on my sister's couch because I'm too tired to do anything. But I have managed to get 2 pieces of toast in today without too much trouble... so maybe we're on the up and up? Guess we'll find out in a few hours.
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