Two weeks till the 10 miler, and I'm slacking. If you can call working, taking care of baby without Papa in town, being sick, baby being sick, making arrangements for the new job, and tying things up at the old "slacking." I felt great after Saturday's 8K, but things quickly went downhill. I kept waking up at night with coughing jags. And Max hasn't quite been himself - the GI bug he battled at the end of last week came back to haunt him on Monday, and he was massively dehydrated Tuesday. Wednesday I thought he was perking up, but he keeps waking up at night, and today started tugging on his ear. Uh-oh. So a quick call to the pedi's urgent care after hours line at 9:45pm got us an appointment for tomorrow. At 9:10 a.m. Which is 10 min after the start of the 5k that I am doing instead of the ELEVEN MILES that I'm supposed to do, but am too exhausted to even contemplate.
Luckily, my baby daddy came home from his business trip tonight, and gallantly offered to take Max to the doctor while I ran. I felt pretty guilty about delegating this task. I reminded him that the appointment is at the main office. He furrowed his brow. The guilt vanished when I realized that my dear husband has been to the main office just one time, the week after Max was born. Myself, I've taken Max to the main office more times than I've taken him to his regular well-baby visits at our satellite office. Truth be told, I could probably run the race, then drive over there and meet them before they're even done. So I have incentive to run extra-fast tomorrow.
Wish me luck - I'm coughing as I write this.
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