Around the time of my last run up in Paisley in October, I started to develop a really chesty, deep cough and had trouble sleeping – my breathing was laboured and really wheezy, the slightest exertion had me gasping for breath and I had to sit upright sleeping for a good month or two as I couldn’t breathe lying down. I basically sounded like I was on 60 woodbine a day. After a visit to the doctor, I found out it was some after effects of having Covid – my lungs had taken a bit of a beating, and the remedy was basically to get some rest from running and exercise, and use a steroid inhaler.
So as it turns out, it’s quite nice doing bugger all exercise over the xmas and new year period, especially when it’s freezing outside and the alternative is to stay in, drink beer, and play some nice 2nd hand vinyl you’ve got as an xmas pressie. It’s doubly nice if you’ve got an excuse for not doing any running and can blame the “Covid lungs” for sitting on the couch and sparking opening another can.
Today though, I finally bit the bullet and decided I needed to get back out. It’s got to more than halfway through February, so I just needed to get back into it and see how the lungs were holding up. I also realised I was really missing the rhythm of going out running and the “rush” I got from it. So I did a tentative 5k run after I got back from work. Took my usual “Up to Surbiton and back” route, took it easy, and stopped when I needed to. My lungs felt like they were on fire, my joints ached and I was out of breath from about 0.2k in, but it really did feel like breaking (more than anything else) a psychological barrier. Have gone back out, it’s not the end of the world in terms of my running hobby, and I ended up enjoying it. Job’s a good ‘un!