Everything was going great. I managed to run my longest training run last week. Things were good. That is until this week. As if on cue for race week, it started raining. And raining and raining. And if the rain wasn't enough to discourage me. I simultaneous contracted a really terrible cold. It's bad. Things are not looking good, y'all.
As of now, I have skipped all of my workouts this week. Race day is Sunday. The plan is to hit the road and head up there Saturday mid-afternoon. But it's not looking good.
I am drinking the worst concoction ever, multiple times a day, because the internet tells me it stops a cold in its tracks. Considering that I'm feeling worse today than yesterday, I may beg to differ.
Talk about disappointing, folks. I really, really wanted to race this thing. I had such high hopes for what Sunday could bring. If I'm feeling even a bit better, I'll still race. Although my expectations are greatly scaled back. I hereby retract all statements I made to others claiming I was going "kill this half marathon." Because right about now, this entire combination of sickness and looming race day is pretty much killing me.