I rolled over on an air mattress in my empty apartment and glanced at the clock that read 4 a.m. I couldn’t fall back asleep — my entire body ached, chills ran through my bloodstream and I had severe nausea. I was just hours away from a 15-hour car ride to Wisconsin and there I was — grappling with the flu. But the car ride was the least of my concern. In just a few hours, I was supposed to lace up my shoes to go for my last run before I moved to Madison.
The sky got lighter but my body still ached. The nausea had only gotten worse and the thought of going outside exacerbated my chills. Nevertheless, it was my last opportunity to “run the District,” the phrase I’ve used throughout the years as a Washington running blogger, and I planned on taking full advantage. So I layered up and stepped out the door.