Allergy Testing Before Taper

“I feel like all the hard work I’ve been doing is falling apart,” I said through the tears.  It was a beautiful sunny day, warm enough that I ran in my sports bra.  I can count the times in the last 10 years that I have gone without a shirt on a single hand, it is that infrequent.  It was also the about 48 hours into my anti-histamine detox. 

But what a spectacle I must have been: sobbing on the side of the highway in my own little breakdown.  It was just four miles into a planned 12 mile MRP run.  My lungs gasped frantically for breath but returned only short gasps; my legs were heavy and hollow.  I felt the same way I did when I did mile repeats at altitude.  I wasn’t getting enough oxygen to run. 

Of course I was being irrational in that moment of tears and sobbing.  A little overtired and not feeling good at all during this detox, I was more emotional than normal.  One bad workout wouldn’t spoil my training.  No, I cried more out of frustration and fear that my allergies would ruin my race in the future.  If I couldn’t get a hold on my symptoms, it could completely erase my goals.  Matt and I ran a few more miles at an easy pace, and then I tried again.  I couldn’t hold the pace.  We completed 9.5 miles, only 4 at MRP.  I felt broken.

Tuesday’s 7 mile run through the marsh with Tanya was exactly what I needed.  The air had a cool bite in it, my lungs responded better.  I don’t know what our pace was, but it was enjoyable, easy, and the miles just flew by.

I went to the doctor for allergy tests on Thursday.  When the technician told me I was allergic to everything, including my cat, my heart sank.  The only way to keep my cat would be twice weekly baths, “oh wait until I tell Zoey,” I thought to myself.  But when I finally met with the doctor to interpret the results, her news calmed me. 

I am indeed allergic to everything, but mildly enough that she thinks monthly immunotherapy is overkill for now.  She was alarmed by Monday’s almost asthma-like attack, but thought the dusty road (alongside a sawmill) and warmer conditions coupled with no medication would likely produce the attack I mentioned.  In line with what I suspected, my heightened symptoms were likely a result of the severe flu I had in June.  My lungs have not yet healed from whatever injury they sustained.  She gave me a non-steroid inhaler that is supposed to open my airways that I should use before every run.  It lasts 4-6 hours and she said would likely help for the marathon if I can complete it in that time frame.  I plan to remove all high intensity training from the rest of December and January to speed up the recovery process.  The lung injury could develop into asthma if completely ignored, so I’m going to try and prevent that.  Regular easy running helps clear my sinuses, so I won’t quit running altogether, just the hard stuff.

So Thursday afternoon, in between two bouts of heavy rain and small hail, I used the inhaler for the first time.  Within a minute, I could feel a tingling in my chest.  The heavy compressed feeling disappeared.  Then we hit the track.  I didn’t know how it would go.  After a little consulting with several running buddies, I decided to run the repeats until I stopped hitting the paces.

The first repeat felt incredible.  Not hard at all.  Then I noticed that it was too slow.  I gave myself another shot, with added effort this time.  The following repeats felt great.  I kept a slow, deep rhythmic breathing and I sailed through them.  My lungs felt free and calm.  It was another cool evening; my lungs always love those the best.

By the end of my sixth repeat, Matt stopped me.  “I think I’m going to cut this short, I’ve got a calf twinge that won’t go away.”  He’s been struggling with tight calves for the last few weeks, so he didn’t want to tear anything.  Smart move on his part, I think.  I didn’t want to make him wait in the cold another half hour for me to finish my last repeats and cool down, so I ran a seventh and then did a mile cool down.  I felt good enough to go longer, that’s all that mattered to me.  Matt has been so helpful and accommodating during these last couple of weeks that I really owed him one this time.  So we went home and soaked in the hot tub, stretched, and I massaged his angry calf.  I think we’re both ready for a taper.  Just one run left: the long one.