Little Billy has The Asthma, So Now What?
It is a beautiful spring day here in Kentucky. After having the pneumonia and an ear infection I've been sorely lacking fitness and going a little stir crazy.
So I strapped on my running shoes, my hot pink tank top, my iPod, my shades, slathered myself in SPF 9000 and away we go!
Things were going peachy through the complex and even across the bridge. The sun was streaming down, the creek was bubbling. I even smiled at a robin who flew by me on his way to afternoon tea.
About seven minutes into this liberating joy spree , and just as I had made the turn into the secluded wooded part of the trail something went instantly and horribly wrong. Tightness seized my chest. I had obviously been hit by an invisible ton of bricks .
I slowed my pace and tried to catch my breath.
Nothing.
I did everything I learned as a camp counselor with the asthma kids. Breathe in big through the nose, out through the mouth. Stay Calm.
Nothing.
This wasn't stopping. I was having my first asthma attack in probably 15 years.
Somewhere inside my brain I was screaming, terrified. I was alone and at least a mile from my house and my rescue inhaler. I didn't bring my phone.
So I did the only thing possible. I put my left foot in front of the right one and started back in the direction I came. Every so often checking myself. Breathe Glenna, you can do this. It took twenty painful minutes to get back to my house. It took twenty more for me to realize I was still shaking.
An hour later I'm here writing about it. Which means two things.
1. I am strong and capable of taking control of my body. I will not let this beat me.
2. God has a purpose for me that doesn't include collapsing in the woods.
All things are possible... I've just learned that springtime outdoor running is probably not for me.
So until the pollen clears, I'll see you guys on the treadmills instead .
So I strapped on my running shoes, my hot pink tank top, my iPod, my shades, slathered myself in SPF 9000 and away we go!
Things were going peachy through the complex and even across the bridge. The sun was streaming down, the creek was bubbling. I even smiled at a robin who flew by me on his way to afternoon tea.
About seven minutes into this liberating joy spree , and just as I had made the turn into the secluded wooded part of the trail something went instantly and horribly wrong. Tightness seized my chest. I had obviously been hit by an invisible ton of bricks .
I slowed my pace and tried to catch my breath.
Nothing.
I did everything I learned as a camp counselor with the asthma kids. Breathe in big through the nose, out through the mouth. Stay Calm.
Nothing.
This wasn't stopping. I was having my first asthma attack in probably 15 years.
Somewhere inside my brain I was screaming, terrified. I was alone and at least a mile from my house and my rescue inhaler. I didn't bring my phone.
So I did the only thing possible. I put my left foot in front of the right one and started back in the direction I came. Every so often checking myself. Breathe Glenna, you can do this. It took twenty painful minutes to get back to my house. It took twenty more for me to realize I was still shaking.
An hour later I'm here writing about it. Which means two things.
1. I am strong and capable of taking control of my body. I will not let this beat me.
2. God has a purpose for me that doesn't include collapsing in the woods.
All things are possible... I've just learned that springtime outdoor running is probably not for me.
So until the pollen clears, I'll see you guys on the treadmills instead .