1 x 200- Warm-up
This was a self-imposed recovery week, even though it's not in the right place for a recovery week in the plan. I think this is why neither of the above workouts were very good. My swim was slow and pretty awful, and the run was a low energy affair.
I'm recovering because I have a procedure on Friday morning. Those of you following closely may have noticed a regular refrain is the GI issues, especially when I run. This is not the only time in my life these symptoms crop up and Super Awesome Wife finally grabbed me by the ear and lead me to a doctor.
One of the first things you notice, or at least I notice, when sitting and talking to a GO specialist is how fat his fingers look from the paper-covered table. Seriously, sausage fingers. That's...not reassuring. After listening to me tell him about the problems I've been having he decided the best course of action would be to take a look. *More Information Than You Bargained For When You Clicked On This Warning* So, on Friday morning, he's going to stick a camera up my butt.
Ok, first thing- I've written those words three other times in emails letting close friends know what is going on. Every single time I write, "stick a camera up my butt," I giggle. It is, possibly, one of the funniest sounding sentences I've ever written. There are better, more professional, more sterile ways to say it. "I am having an exploratory colonoscopy," comes to mind. But that's boring at not nearly as funny.
Anyway, he's going to be looking for signs of oddness through my intestines and I'm going to twilight unconscious on his table. And Super Awesome Wife is going to be jittering in the waiting room.
When you have an appointment for a sausage-fingered doctor to take a tube and gently place it into a section of your body which is only meant for waste removal, all waste must first be removed. Otherwise his pictures will only prove what people have been telling me for years. So Thursday morning I get to eat breakfast. And then I don't get to eat again until after the procedure Friday morning. For reference- I once killed a man because I hadn't eaten 45 minutes after a bike workout and he nearly stepped on my foot. I'm much more concerned with not eating for 24 hours than I am with the whole "camera in my butt" thing. I fear for my marriage. Super Awesome Wife is preparing herself. And that's why I haven't worked out hard and disregarded my planned bike ride today. Riding makes me hungry. I don't want to be feeding the beast tonight. I want to conserve.
But not eating is not the only part of the procedure preparation. You also have to cleanse, clean, clear out, and flush. I see lots of flushing in my near future. Sitting beside me waiting to be filled is the most depressing gallon jug I have ever seen. At the bottom is a magic powder which, when mixed with water, will cause everything in my body to rush towards the southernmost exit. I have to drink half of this evil gallon after school and the second half a few hours later. At some point during this I will wonder if I died of dehydration.
|The Jug of Destruction|
|I don't really think this expression needs a caption, do you?|
Early Friday morning Super Awesome Wife and I will make the drive to the doctor's office and he will do that voodoo that he do for doodoo.
I am not worried about the procedure. I'll be out, there shouldn't be any pain. Honestly, surgery pain doesn't worry me too much. I've passed half a dozen kidney stones, one big one while camping in New Zealand. I know internal pain. If all goes well there should be little to no recovery time and I should be able to workout Saturday and Sunday. Wait a moment, Sunday is the Super Bowl...I might need to recover that day by eating. You know, to regain strength or something (Go Pats*).
Since the internet is the home of the Overshare, and I think it will be interesting, I will be asking for copies of whatever media they take during the investigation. And if they are cool, I am totally going to post them.
*It is well known among friends that I cannot pick football games, baseball games, hockey games, tennis matches, WWE matches, coin flips, pre-taped events, or pick-a-hand correctly**, so I probably just doomed the Patriots to failure. If the game ends 51-3 Giants it's probably my fault. Sorry, Tom.
**though I will kick your ass in Rock, Paper, Scissors. Bring it.