Day 81 – The Mystery Illness (or Maybe Just Pollen?)

The Groggy Morning Conundrum

This morning greeted me with a sensation I hadn’t missed: that telltale ache behind the eyes, a throat that wasn’t sore but certainly considering the idea, and a general fogginess that could best be described as ‘muddle-headed’. Initially, I chalked it up to the early start, having forcibly encouraged myself out of bed at 5 am with the enthusiasm of a man facing a firing squad armed with alarm clocks.

But as I made the drive to Rochester, blinking at the road ahead and occasionally wondering whether it was actually getting further away, the notion began to solidify — I might be teetering on the edge of a cold. Or, at the very least, some mystery ailment that had decided to arrive uninvited, like an unwanted relative at a dinner party you never agreed to host.

A Gentle Jog and Growing Suspicions

Fortunately, today’s training didn’t demand anything heroic — just a recovery run at an easy pace, clocking in at just over 30 minutes. That kind of session is less about pushing limits and more about keeping everything ticking over, much like the slow, rhythmic clank of an old grandfather clock (albeit one with sore knees and a run tracker).

My route took me down the hill into The Vines, where the morning air felt just sharp enough to remind me I was alive. I then circled back via the gentler incline towards Borstal before returning to The Math School. The run itself wasn’t problematic — in fact, it was almost pleasant in that semi-conscious, dreamlike way some early jogs can be — but the nagging sense that my body was quietly preparing to betray me lingered.

Hunger, Hypochondria, and Hay Fever

Post-run, I noticed an insatiable hunger creeping in. Not the regular post-exercise nibble, but the sort of hunger that convinces you a loaf of bread and a wheel of cheese is a balanced snack. Now, this could be my body’s desperate attempt to ward off illness by stockpiling calories, or perhaps just the result of mild illness making everything seem slightly more dramatic than it is — a condition known as Subtle Man-Flu Syndrome.

There’s also the third option: hay fever. The tree pollen count is currently sitting at ‘moderate,’ which in my case means moderately infuriating. Tree pollen is my nemesis this time of year, sneaking into my system and causing mild havoc — the botanical equivalent of being mugged by a shrub.

The Road Ahead (With Tissues at the Ready)

Whatever this is — cold, hay fever, or an elaborate act of biological misdirection — the timing isn’t disastrous. With weeks still to go until the London Marathon on April 27th, I’ve got room to rest if needed. Recovery is a vital part of training, after all. It’s easy to fall into the trap of logging every mile with religious fervour, but sometimes what the body really needs is a good cup of tea and a stern talking-to about self-care.

With any luck, a bit of rest and the occasional antihistamine will see off whatever this is. And if not, at least I’ll have an excuse for eating my body weight in toast over the next few days — for medicinal purposes, of course.

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