Those Were the Days, My Friend

So yeah, you know how I’m running the Dubai marathon, um, tomorrow?

Well, I’d like you to meet my running buddies:

Proving once and for all that I’m Not As Young As I Used To Be (TM), my two weeks in the States - replete with late nights, cold weather, too much carousing with colleagues, and about 48 hours’ worth of time spent in airports or on airplanes - have taken their toll.

At least this is what I learned yesterday, when I finally succumbed and went to the doctor.

(I also learned that my clinic now segregates waiting areas by gender - ah, it’s good to be back in the Middle East. And yes, all doctor’s offices here have indoor palm trees and zen atmosphere fountains and sleek leather couches… I once went to a clinic that actually brought you a “welcome drink” along with a “refreshing towel” but that felt a little gratuitous, even for Dubai.)

The very nice Syrian doctor took one look into my ears with the little flashlight thing and immediately hooked me up to some kind of fancy machine which printed out a nifty pair of ear graphs. Sadly I was not allowed to keep them (I asked), so I have drawn an Artist’s Rendering for you in PowerPoint so you may share in the experience:

Apparently getting on a 15-hour flight when you have the beginnings of a sinus infection tends to embiggen the infection and push a lot of crap all up into your grill (yes, that’s the scientific explanation), especially your ears, not only making you feel like shit but also rendering you functionally deaf. (WHAT?!)

“But Gubbi,” you say, “You don’t run a marathon with your ears!” To which I say, “I know, right?! MAN UP FOR GOD’S SAKE!” But everything above my neck is stuffed so full of junk that whenever I take a step, I feel pressure in my teeth… and then I think about taking that same step tomorrow and being like “okay, great, just 26.199999 miles more!” and then I want to curl up in the fetal position and make wounded-animal noises and probably die.

Anyhow, I know you’re all super-interested in my sinuses… the whole point of this post is really just to make myself feel better about the emerging reality that I am going to be That Girl Who Has Excuses To Not Run A Marathon (gah, don’t you hate That Girl?!) for the second year in a row.

No but really, I loathe being That Girl so much that it is making me feel dirty to continue writing this post. So to protect my own vanity (which obviously is the point of blogging, right?) I will sign off with a picture of me not being That Girl (shudder) but rather being Another Girl, a girl who is hearty and robust and prancing her way through mile 22 of a 34-mile race like it ain’t no thang because she is young and carefree and can treat her body like shit without suffering any consequences!

Those were the days, my friend.

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blairsings said: I hope you feel better!! That is a TOTALLY legit reason to not run your marathon! It might actually be dangerous for you to do it. Feel better! There will always be more marathons :)
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handsup-thumbsdown said: If you see Ashley (found out you know him!) you might also see a couple of other of my colleagues tomorrow. Good luck!
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