Sides of a triangle. Men in a tub. Little kittens. Wheels on a trike. Events in a triathlon.
For me, this season, it has been the half-marathon. In ten days (yes, I’m getting excited), I’ll be running my third half-marathon in three months. It didn’t start out this way. The first two were suppose to be part of my training for a fall marathon but, in a strange turn of events, that marathon suddenly became my third half.
Yesterday morning, though, I worried that this race was going to be overpowered by another third: my third round of pneumonia. For the past 6 months, I’ve fretted over the possibility of getting sick again. My doctor changed my asthma inhalers over the summer and it has been an unseasonably warm fall – both great for staying healthy.
On Tuesday night, though, I suddenly developed a sore throat. Yesterday morning, I was tired and achy. By noon, my chest was tight. I couldn’t be getting sick, not now, not with a week and a half to go. But, oh yes, I could – especially with so many other things on my mind.
So after school, I headed to the walk-in clinic to try to nip this thing before it exploded. The doctor surveyed my eyes, ears and throat. Nothing.
“I’m pretty sure my glands are swollen,” I reminded her.
“No, I can’t feel anything.”
“Are you sure, Doc” I wanted to answer. “Because there really isn’t a lot of fat that you have to push your fingers through.”
“Oh, wait. Yes, they’re swollen.”
Meds (a Superdrug – no surprise) were prescribed. And, with Little Ironman falling asleep at 7:30, I was able to get to bed early too.
This morning, my throat felt much better and the chills were gone. Tomorrow, I should feel well enough – and fearless enough – to run.
So, yes, half-marathons also come in three’s.
What comes in three’s in your life?