I'm supposed to run 6 miles today, but I have to stop throwing up first. I don't know what's wrong with me. I have some kind stomach flu or something. I woke up in the middle of the night and have been throwing up ever since. It's gross. And totally uncool. I just want to go to work and then to Fleet Feet for the hill workout, but that's not going to happen.
On the bright side, it was another fun weekend. I saw True Grit, had a nice 12 mile run at Fleet Feet Saturday morning, played some darts at a bar called Shooter's (which described itself as a "classy sports bar atmosphere." translation: we have a lot of flat screen TVs and it doesn't stink like stale beer in here), went to Penn State to watch Mike's cousin play lacrosse, and watched Netflix movies with my mom while she's home recovering from her shoulder surgery.
I hate being sick. I hate taking days off, but the thought of running anywhere or eating anything is making me nauseous right now. Dear body, please get better ASAP. I've got things to do and I can't do them without you.
Lyric of the moment: "It's like I've been awakened. Every rule I had you breaking. It's the risk that I'm taking. I ain't never gonna shut you out..."
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