Friday morning I went to the gym like I was supposed to. I picked up the kids, made dinner, all the normal stuff. It was Ty's night to kill aliens so I picked up a redbox and went to bed early thinking that the morning's workout or maybe Thursday's long run had left me a little more sore than I expected to be. By the the time I woke up Saturday morning I had 103 degree fever, a hacking couch and hurt so badly that I was pretty sure I might die at any time. Worst. day. ever. By the end of the day we were pretty sure I was the first person on our block to get the dreaded flu. I was scheduled to get my vaccination this morning. Sigh. Luckily my very favorite local doc was willing to call in some Tamiflu for me, knowing that I was supposed to run a marathon in short seven days. Sunday was only slightly better. And I started to get nervous. I have been trying to get into this race for two years, training for four months. Missing it for some stupid virus would be heartbreaking. Monday I was able to walk around. I got dressed and took the kids to school. I did laundry and I coughed. And coughed, and coughed. It's so hard to run when you are coughing, it's hard to do most things when you are coughing. Feeling very nervous now. At about 7:30 my body informed me that it was finished for the day and that we were going to bed no matter how many loads of laundry were left to fold. But the coughing made it hard to get to sleep, so I worried. But I did sleep and while I was sleeping I didn't cough. Today, I am still coughing, but less, I think. And I feel closer to what I am supposed to feel like. We leave in the morning but the race isn't until Saturday. If I can stay on this curve, less coughing, better feeling every day, I should be o.k. by then. I hope. Cross your fingers. And your toes.