Bugs on Planes

I caught a cold on the cross-country flight Friday night to California. That, plus the fact that I didn't arrive at Lake Tahoe until 3:30 am PST (E. picked me up when I arrived at Sacramento Int'l Airport at 11:05 pm, then we shopped for toiletries at 24-hour Wal-Mart, then drove 2+ hours to the Sierras), which is when my marathon-training group in D.C. was meeting for a 16-mile run, only made matters worse.

After sleeping several hours, I took it easy yesterday, going out only to grocery-shop and stock up on Gu. I thought I was just tired. After sleeping 10 hours last night (which is more rest than I usually get in two nights), I woke up this morning sneezing and coughing. My muscles ached as I stepped out of bed. Classic symptoms of a cold.

Damn it.

But after eating a breakast of lasagna followed by coffee and french toast (my appetite rarely flags), and sunning myself on the desk over the Sunday New York Times, I feel better. Still sniffling and coughing. But I don't feel as tired as I did as yesterday.

It's 11:42 am here on the west shore of Tahoe and it's a beautiful, 75-degree sunny, clear day. Maybe I will go for that 16-miler after all. But first, I have to take an anti-histamine ....