This nagging throat affliction is killing me. But the not running is killing me more. I only managed to get out once last week. A four-mile run that I couldn't even finish. This weekend, I have tried to get better. I ate some seriously garlicky pizza to ward off vampires who may have been gnawing on my throat. I guzzled Johnnie Walker to numb the pain and disinfect whatever might be in there. I rested. And rested. Watched football. And rested. Nothing seems to be working.
I'm anti-medication. I choose to load up on vitamins, both natural and supplement, to boost my immune system. But I even broke down and bought some cold and flu tablets on Saturday. The pills ease the symptoms, but don't cure squat.
I had planned to run the 8 on the 8th race this next weekend. It appears my predicted goal pace of 8:50 per mile will be a longshot.
On a local pride note, turn to the race reports in your new Runners' World and you will find the Akron Marathon report (finally). I had thought of writing that report myself, but you know how it goes.