I’ve got to pull myself together. First there was the dropping-the-iron-on-my-foot incident a couple of weeks ago, which put me out of commission for quite a few days, and then I went to Cyprus and came back with the mother of all head-and-chest colds, which had me bed-ridden for nearly a week. Meanwhile I watch all the conditioning I’ve built up start slipping away as I lie in bed and eat comfort food and gain weight. It’s depressing, to put it mildly. Tomorrow is the 31-week mark and I feel like I’m starting over from the beginning. Even as I’m typing this I’m having to stop every few minutes to have a coughing fit. Last night I got so light-headed I had to sit down halfway on my journey between the living room and the bedroom. I feel weak, and I feel pathetic. Factor in the sluggishness and self-pity brought on by the hot weather, and what we have here is a pretty sad disaster. Boo-hoo, poor me. I’m the only person in the world who’s ever been sick.

So this week I have to try to piece things back together. I need to eat right and drink the right things. I’m a singer and voice teacher; I know how to repair a throat problem. I need to take it easy on the exercise for a few more days, but I do need at least to start exercising again. If I see dust gathering on my running shoes it’ll be enough to send me to the crazy house, I know it. So I need to start doing something or this whole thing really will come to a screeching halt.

It’s a mixed blessing that Emirhan’s doing so well with his own training. On the one hand, it’s frightening and sometimes frustrating that he’s pulling away from me so quickly. He’s a natural athlete— being a bodybuilder, training comes easily to him, and his runs, even the long ones, are fairly effortless. Where I come home panting and exhausted after thirty minutes, he returns victorious and energetic after an hour. He’s going from strength to strength, and it worries me that I’m not doing the same. Aside from my own fears, I don’t want to drag him down with my negativity.

On the other hand, I couldn’t ask for a more supportive and inspirational partner. He’s forever telling me how great I’m doing (even when I’m not) and he’s more than happy to run with me if I want the company and encouragement, or stay away if I feel suffocated by his presence (I’m quite the pro-active introvert). Being no stranger to physical training, he knows exactly what to say and when to say it, and his natural enthusiasm is infectious. He says we’re a team and that the job of team members is to support each other. I’m so lucky to have someone around me who is competing in the same event as I am and can understand what I’m going through. He keeps reminding me that this obscene summer heat won’t last forever, and the cooler weather should be hitting just as I’m getting back up to my best standard again. At that point my training should run a bit more smoothly. That’s exactly what I needed to hear.

One thing I really need to happen is for Öger (the company sponsoring the marathon) to open the marathon registration. The web site promises that registration and full marathon information will be available from the middle of July. But of course this is Turkey and we run on Turkish time; “middle of July” means anytime between now and the new year. It’s now nearly August and there’s no sign of any changes on the site. I’ve heard from scores of runners that actually signing up and paying the registration money makes a big difference in the feeling of committment— this is no longer just a vague thing that’s approaching; once you’ve registered it’s a real event with a real date and real place at the starting line with your name on it. I want to feel locked in to that committment. I want to know that this is something I’ve promised myself to with more than just words.

I know that a couple of weeks of derailment isn’t the end of the world, but it’s easy to let illness spiral into self-pity, especially when two or three things hit in quick succession. So now with a new training week starting tomorrow, I’m going to spend this evening appealing to my friends, my fellow runners, and my readers— I need your encouragement. I need to hear that you, too, got knocked down for a week or two and managed to get back up and get everything back in order. I want to hear that your cousin ran a marathon after having recovered from brain cancer and that I need to shut the hell up and get on with it. I’m going to pull myself out of this regardless, that’s just how I am, but if I can have an external boost… even better.

Now I’m going to spend a few minutes making a training plan for the week and getting my running clothes ready for tomorrow morning. Even if I’m only well enough to manage a walk when I wake up, that’s okay, at least it’s something. For once I’m going to earn all those wonderful things Emirhan says about what a capable athlete I am. I’m not going to let myself or the team down. Being ill is okay, it’s not my fault, but now that I’m recovering I’m not going to let this setback or my self-pity stop me from getting the job done. This time next week I’ll report back with ferocious triumph the likes of which you’ve never seen.

Fin.

This is what my housemates surprised me with this morning— an amazing Turkish breakfast on the balcony. We’ve each got a little omelet with chunks of sausage (chicken sausage, of course— it tastes a lot better than it sounds), there’s a salad for the table to share, a bowl of olives (my favourite), and of course plenty of fresh bread with stuff to put on it: chocolate cream, butter spread, honey, and cheese. To drink, there’s your choice of Turkish tea or freshly homemade ayran, which is a yogurt drink, but not sweet like the yogurt drinks we get in the West.

Needless to say, breakfast was great.

As for lunch, I’ve been eating a lot of salads lately because, well, it’s summer. I’ve been craving avocados— we only get them seasonally here, but when they finally start showing up at the bazaar they are unbelievably ripe and soft and flavourful. I searched and searched on Thursday and finally found one man who had a few avocados at an exorbitant price (it’s still very early for avocados here— another month or so and they’ll be much cheaper). But a craving is a difficult thing to overcome, so I paid the 4YTL and went home with two of the most delicate avocados I’ve ever held in my life. In fact, they were so delicate I could barely handle them at all, which means they were perfect. I cut one up at lunchtime with some locally-grown tomatoes and olives, and as a special treat I chopped some of the chicken sausage into teensy little pieces and fried it until it was crispy. Voilà bacon bits substitute! Normally I’d just drizzle some olive oil and a bit of salt and pepper over the whole thing, but since I was already going the decadence route with the baconesque bits, I decided to splurge and make a dijon-mayo dressing (I love mustard on anything, but especially on salads). I served the salad with toasted bread, and it made an extremely tasty and surprisingly light lunch. I’m looking forward to having the other avocado tomorrow, and if the bazaar guy has more next week, I’ll probably buy enough that I can have an avocado everyday. We only get them for a couple of months a year, so I have to take advantage.