Fever

That's WKRP's Johnny Fever.

Today, it was about the other one: 101 F and chills. Oh yeah, that feels good.

I haven't been listening to the clues of my body lately. Today I paid for that.

Over the past few days, the only thing odd was that I had a zero count on going number two. Going 48 hours without is very unusual for this altogether regular guy. Then this morning, all of a sudden it all wants to come out. And it did. Quite fast, in fact.

Whatever. So I shrugged it off and preceded to go to my Thursday morning plyometrics class. Bad idea #1. I didn't even consider re-hydrating. Bad idea #2. Twenty minutes into the class, my heart rate is a roller coaster of highs during floor drills and plummeting-lows during recoveries. Then the other signs of dehydration started manifesting: over heating, dryness and chills.

I pulled the plug on the workout and began the cool down phase. First good idea. My hope was to keep from barfing, but my stomach was making other plans. A quick glance in the mirror revealed a very pasty complexion, telling me that vomiting was not a question of if, but when.

Vomitorium:
The next ten minutes was spent in the locker room toilet emptying what remained in my gut. Oh yeah, I saw Lanny in the locker right after. He asked me, What are you training for? The tone in which he asked could have been my imagination, but it's quite possible that he heard the fracas in the stall and wondered what kind of nut I am. We had a nice little chat in a post-barfing surreal kind of way.

The rest of today has been on and off bouts of the chills and low grade fever. In conclusion, I must have picked up some sort of virus a few days ago that resulted in dehydration today. The aftermath of the day was all me.

Needless to say, Saturday's snow-run might have to be postponed.