A love/hate relationship with spring

My friend LJ and I run/walk together a couple of times a week. She's got a little more experience — she trained and ran a marathon — and that goes a long way in keeping me motivated. 

So instead of running our usual route through South Highland, she said there were some really cool trails we should try out along the riverfront. A change of scenery sounded great, so after work we drove to the Stoner Boat Launch for a little jog through the woods. 

That afternoon was perfect. We spent an hour winding through the trails and taking in the nature around us. Unfortunately, that included three snakes, one of which LJ stepped right over without realizing. About the time my heeby-jeebies were full blown, we reached the end of the trail and re-entered civilization. The snakes would end up being less of a threat than the pollen in the air. 

I woke up the next morning kicking myself. My throat was sore and my head was pounding and the yellow dust had claimed another victim in me. I'm the queen of seasonal allergies, I should have known better than to go romping through the woods. Since then I've been taking Singulair, Nasonex, Airborne, Zicam, Delsym and Advil. That started Monday and now it's Thursday and I've yet to fully recover. 

This is my favorite time of year. I love the azaleas. I love the first feeling of warm air against my skin. I love the re-emergence of all things green. But all of these things are difficult to love when my head feels like it's about to crack open. I'm seriously considering investing in surgical masks — it worked for SARS, maybe it'll work for me.

They say beauty is pain, but I wish every time the seasons changed it didn't hurt so badly.