The Agony of the DNF

I got my first ever DNF this past weekend.  For those who aren’t up to the lingo, a DNF means Did Not Finish and is the designation given to runners who quit a race.    Mine was especially embarrassing because I didn’t even line up to start the race!!  Didn’t even make it to the event.

First the ankle, which is still puffy and twinges during certain activities.   After a week of limping around the house I went for my first run to test it out.  As long as I didn’t hit a root or twist on a rock I figured I could manage the half marathon.

Then came the cold.  A cold like one I’ve not had since 2005.   Sore scratchy throat, blocked nose, fatigue.  I thought I was getting better after a few days and then it settled into my chest and my voice turned into something that sounded like a cross between the Devil in The Exorcist and Brenda Vacarro (sp?) after about 4 packs of cigarettes.

Not surprisingly (because I am stubborn and a bit competitive),  it took me until Saturday night to face the fact that running a race was NOT in my best interest.  So I bailed on the entire event and went for a short, easy run instead.   Needless to say, that simple little run took its toll and I sat on the couch for the rest of the day, feeding my newly acquired DayQuil habit.

So here I sit, a member of the DNF group.  Am I bummed?  You bet.  Do I regret not running?  No.  I think I made the right decision, as painful as it was to admit.   My plan is to get 100% healthy, get my real voice back and start training for a half marathon in Alameda.

Now go run!

Keli 🙂

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