18 days until the race. Training continues and the extra week we unintentionally built in will be welcome as life and minor pains get in the way. We rode the bike at the Y last night for a change of pace and to keep any pains at bay.
We walked to the Y last night and it felt so good to be outside without feeling a chill from the air or the wind blowing by. The warm air was filled with the smell of spring: flowers, grass, trees and my nose was the first to pipe up and say "Spring is here! Get out the Claritin!" So, as it goes, I will be sneezing and sniffling for a little while until my body adjusts to all the junk flying through the air. Odds are my beautiful and understanding wife will want to post something like "How is this a change from the rest of the year?" but she won't because she loves me and I beat her to the punch.
You see, I love the outdoors and would spend every waking minute outside if I could. I worked at a summer camp for 10 years and suffered through all kinds of allergic reactions from old, dusty mattresses and all manner of pollen falling from the sky. I don't mind the allergic reactions...most of the time. A little sneezing and sniffling and wiping my nose every minute or so is a small price to pay to be outside. As you can probably tell, I'd be better suited as a hermit or a solo hiker with all the bodily functions going on.
And this is the trouble: I've learned to cope and deal with hayfever that won't succumb to any over-the-counter or prescription medicine. I've learned to manage the sniffling and sneezing and eyes so red you'd think I'd been up to no good. But other people aren't accustomed to it and feel the need to worry and fuss over the freak show I become when there's something in the air my body won't abide. Katie knows better now and gives me a sympathetic frown, a hug and tells me to ask for something if I need it. Usually the only "cure" is a long nap and a few hot showers with plenty of fluids to replenish me. Nothing else seems to work.
On a staff retreat last year we went to Camp Seafarer for a few days. I was really looking forward to being in the camp setting with fresh air and the water nearby. I lasted about a day before my eyes swelled up and my nose turned into a faucet. My co-workers--wonderful people all-- had no idea what to do with me. I plugged along and did everything with them, sometimes from a comfortable distance, and managed the best I could. Medicine was offered and suggestions were given and I politely took what was given and informed them "This happens. I will be fine. It looks worse than it really is, promise."
The second night, I took a nap before the low country boil hoping to let it run it's course. I gained enough time to sit and eat my food before throwing in the towel and the used tissue and went to bed before the sun fully set. I woke up the next day feeling near-perfect and ready to go. I kept away from the freshly mown fields but otherwise enjoyed the rest of the trip.
It's that time of year for me and a lot of people. So, in the spirit of embracing all that life throws my way, I raise a hankerchief to you and yours at the outset of this beautiful and terrible season. May this spring bring you all that you desire and then some!
Ryan
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