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COVID, week 61 + Pfizer 2

COVID, week 61 + Pfizer 2

I got my second Pfizer vaccine last Thursday!

I was thrilled (honestly) to return to Levi’s Stadium last Thursday for Pfizer dos. Unlike the first time around, when it was an almost three-hour affair from start to finish, with thousands of people, the second go at the rodeo was much faster. I think I was in and out in about 30-40 minutes.

Of course, before my second shot, I had heard the stories about the second Pfizer dose’s side effects, and from other runners, I had read some banter about how to train (or how not to train) in the days leading up to, and following, the shot. It seemed like I knew more people who had experienced side effects from their second dose than those who hadn’t experienced anything, or hell, maybe those who experienced the inconveniences were just louder about their experiences 🙂 I was curious about how I’d respond, but I tried not to feel anxious going into it. It’s just a shot. Any side effects that may transpire would be short-lived.

(A quick aside here to mention that I tried hard to not be anxious about this whole experience both to model for my kids that it’s no big deal — it’s safe! It’s the right thing to do! adults get shots sometimes, just like kids do! — and also because I knew if I got into my head about it, it’d just be a waste of energy. I think I have close-to-no control over how my immune system responds, ya know? It’s going to do what it’s going to do. There’s only so much that I can control; beyond that, it’s outta my hands. I’ve had some unusual experiences with my health and with medicines [not vaccines] before, in the semi-recent past, and it can be really easy to let my mind go to those places — to those one-off, unusual circumstances, and from there spiral into catastrophic thinking wherein I convince myself that I’ll be that 1 person in 98734987123 that rare side effect X happens to, or whatever — not to the who-knows-how-many other times I’ve taken medicine with no consequence. In other words: stay calm. It’s fine). 

Because this is a weird-ass time we’re living through, I thought I’d document my experiences here. I mean, in the absence of a race report, this is probably the next, most exciting, thing to read, right? Sure. 

Morning of the shot (5/6): I ran a workout, 15x 1’/1’ at 5k-8kish pace, and felt good. I ran a workout the morning of the first shot, so I thought doing the same for round two would be fine. Solid workout, felt great afterward, on with my day I went. 

First ~10 hours post-shot: Nothing. I didn’t even feel any soreness at the injection site (left arm). I naiively assumed this meant I was in the clear. I pounded water, more than the usual copious amounts I consume, out of an abundance of caution since I had heard people wondering if they would have felt better afterward, had they drunk more than they did. 

And then, for the next day or several days, I experienced all of the following, sometimes simultaneously and other times separately, beginning around 1am [~11 hours] the day after my shot (so beginning 5/7): 

  • Jumpy/jittery feeling 
  • Cold/shivery feeling
  • Headache in the very middle of my head: not debilitating or incapacitating, but definitely uncomfortable enough to warrant ibuprofen/acetaminophen/both
  • Lack of appetite 
  • Fatigue that came in waves, seemingly varying hour to hour 
  • Feeling kinda “off”
  • Generalized, nondescript malaise or blah 
  • Body achiness or discomfort 
  • Slightly elevated temperature (never broke 100)
  • Swollen and sore lymph node in my L armpit 
  • Tingly fingertips and hands (this kinda freaked me out – I immediately thought heart attack, lol)
  • Breakthrough bleeding (a little TMI but this is especially fascinating to me because I *almost never* have breakthrough bleeding with the birth control implant I use — I’m talking maaaaaaaybe a couple times a year, if that — and on the day I got my shot and every subsequent day thereafter, I bled).

Weird stuff, right?? These are all documented side effects, so I wasn’t necessarily surprised by any of it, though admittedly when the breakthrough bleeding hadn’t subsided after a few days, I emailed my PCP. (I’m fine. Documented albeit atypical side effect). All of these sfx were predictable, though how my body would respond was unpredictable. So it is with everyone, though: predictably unpredictable. It’s as big a deal as you make it.  

In terms of how ::waves arms around:: all of this has affected my running over the past few days, it’s about as you’d expect — lots of easy running, with no pace or distance expectations, and just doing what feels right:  

  • (today) 5/12: ran at mid-morning with G on bike, easy pace, because I slept poorly last night (moreso due to her/non-vaccine factors, I think, than because of lingering side effects). 
  • 5/11: began feeling a bit more normal-ish; easy effort on roads/trails in ARP at a typical pace and distance. 
  • 5/10: overslept my alarms (rarely happens); easy effort on roads but my legs felt inexplicably heavy. Surprised I moved as much as I did because I felt like I was running through quicksand. 
  • 5/9 (mothers’ day): woke up to do my LR and was awake for an hour before going back to bed for several more hours. Slept off and on almost the entire day, with the exception of the 45’ I ran roads with both girls on bikes. (happy mothers’ day to me). First week in 12+ weeks of training that I ran <50 mpw since I didn’t do a LR, but I’m 100% positive that swapping an easy 45’ run with my kids for what would have been a couple hours on roads/trails was the right choice. There’s little way the latter could have happened, based on how I felt. There’s no reason to force anything, ever, but after a vaccine, I mean, c’mon… nothing to prove. 
  • 5/8: easy effort on roads, slept better the night before than I had been. Really sore L armpit lymph node; almost felt like it’s sore from a hard lift (but I hadn’t lifted at all the previous week). 
  • 5/7: easy easy effort shakeout after yesterday’s Pfizer 2 shot and yesterday morning’s workout; I would normally do an easy shakeout the day after a workout anyway, so this wasn’t much of a diversion from “the plan.” I had been feeling all types of side effects at 1am, but after taking medicine, drinking more water, and resting more, by 5:30 a.m. I felt well and decided to go out for some easy miles with no expectations or goals. I felt fine during the run and didn’t feel the fatigue wave hit me again until a couple hours later, at the start of DL kindergarten. According to my wrist-based HRM, my HR shot up to just shy of 180 (!) on this really chill run — and I had a slightly-elevated resting HR for a day or two after the second vaccine — but I kinda take all of this with a grain of salt due to wrist-based HRMs’ data being notoriously inaccurate
mothers’ day (s)mileage, probably the only 45′ of the day I wasn’t sleeping or resting

It’s a lot, yes, but it’s completely manageable and honestly, probably more annoying than anything. I’m not used to feeling like I need to take naps every afternoon to get through the day. 

I’m guessing that you’ve probably read or heard Dr. Megan and David Roche talk about this subject, on training post-vaccine, either in this Trail Runner article or in this SWAP podcast. I think my experiences support their general recommendations to simply take it easy post-vaccine, regardless of how well you may feel. They recommend a full rest day the day after the shot, which I didn’t do, but I think if you *do* want to run (or otherwise exercise) in the day(s) right after your vaccine, it is really important to listen to your body and be prepared to hold up, if needed.

I told myself before getting my second vaccine that this might be the time when I break my running streak because I’m not that dumb to run when I feel terrible.    

Even with this experience of having all these varied side effects over the course of almost a week, I have absolutely no qualms or concerns or regrets about getting vaccinated, and I would encourage literally everyone who can to go get theirs

I would do it, and experience all of this, every day, for the rest of my life, if it meant that I didn’t get COVID or inadvertently pass it to someone else. It’s a no-brainer. I cannot fathom how or why so many people would choose to say “nah, I’m good” on this incredible opportunity.  

And really, who knows? You may be part of the lucky segment of the population who doesn’t experience any side effects — or very minor ones, at that — but even if you do experience the whole shebang, you can take solace in knowing that your immune system is doing exactly what it should be doing and that all these sfx are temporary. Admittedly, it’s hard to look on the positive side if you’re feeling like ass, but sometimes a little perspective can go a long way. 

I’m happy it’s behind me, and I’m happier, still, to be getting *this much closer* to normalcy. How’d yours go? How’d you adjust your training, if at all, in the days prior or after?    

COVID, week 60 + 7:47

COVID, week 60 + 7:47

Sixty! Sixty of these things. We’re staring down the final month of school, and it’s already feeling like summer around here with the string of 80-85 degree sunny days we’re in. What is time? What are seasons?

Anyway. The fam and I spent all day yesterday (in between distance learning pockets) celebrating A’s birthday. Unlike pretty much every other birthday (with the exception of last year), we were able to celebrate together all day long — breakfast, lunch, dinner, and mini-breaks throughout the day — which was pretty memorable. 

I lost count of how many times she said that yesterday was the best, most awesome, day ever. 🙂

And for what I think is the first time ever, I made it through one of my kids’ birthdays without crying at all for the entire day. It only took a decade.

party on!

Does 7:47 mean anything to you? If you were hoping to run Boston 2021 — in October this year — after yesterday’s announcements, it certainly does

With the pandemic moving Boston 2020 from the spring, to the fall, to ultimately virtual, applicants for Boston ‘21 — who could use times from mid-September 2018-onward — had to not just qualify but had to be 7 minutes and 47 seconds faster than their qualifier. 

For the youngest AG for men (18-34), that means their 3:00 BQ (that would allow them to apply in the first place) ultimately had to be closer to a 2:52 (!!) to ensure their admittance. For the youngest AG for women, their 3:30 qualifier had to be closer to a 3:22 in order for them to participate. 

The 7:47 cutoff is the largest since the BAA began handling registrations in this manner. It’s economics 101, right? Demand has outpaced supply, and particularly in 2021, with the race having only about 20k runners, instead of the usual 30k, to comply with COVID protocols. There’s more people who want to run Boston — who have qualified to run Boston — than there are slots available in any given year but very much so in 2021. 

Of the 20k runners, 16k (or so) were qualifiers, with the rest going to charity runners and invited sponsor athletes. According to Sarah Lorge Butler at RW, 14,609 qualified runners got in; 9,215 qualified runners applied but were denied.

Think about that: over 9,000 runners qualified … but still got denied. Ouch. 

Stacey and I both lamented that we’d love to hear John’s hot takes on all of this. 

If you recently qualified for Boston, applied, AND got in, I am so excited for you and can’t wait to hear all about what Boston ‘21 was like, assuming it goes on as planned. The press releases make it sound like there are going to be so many modifications from “Boston as normal” that it sounds like it’ll (understandably) have an entirely different feel and vibe. 

Regardless: Boston is Boston, and I hope you are stoked and very proud of your accomplishment. You absolutely should be because you worked hard and earned your spot at the starting line. Revel in that, baby! 

If you recently qualified for Boston, applied, but didn’t get in, I feel gutted for you. I’ve known many who this has happened to over the years, with some people missing Boston by literal seconds — either because they weren’t faster than the BQ-minus-cutoff time by just a few seconds, or because they missed the qualifying standard itself by a veeeeery small margin —  and I know it is tough to swallow. It sucks when you work really hard and still come up short; understatement of the century, I know. 

Nonetheless, please be proud of what you have accomplished already because that is a huge undertaking in and of itself. I’d encourage you to keep fighting — keep showing up — to try to make it to the starting line in Boston. 

It All Starts Here! -Hopkinton, 2010. (No Athletes’ Village at this year’s event makes me wonder if they’ll move the sign for COVID-compliant photo opps)

It’s worth it, it’s tough, and you are tougher. Maybe it’s not this year, but you can do it. You got this. 

And finally, happy early mothers day to all the rockstar moms and the mom-like rockstars out there this weekend.

I know this is a holiday that can be fraught with emotion for so many, and I’m thinking of you, too, and sending love. I hope you know how very loved you are, regardless of your maternal status.