On Wednesday, I left Dallas to jet to Northern California to rest and recuperate at my lake house before competing in my first triathalon. I left my husband at home to work.

My friend calls me from Dallas today. She is leaving in the morning to spend the weekend in San Diego visiting gourmet restaurants, hiking, and going to the races. She left her husband at home to work.

What a glamorous life we have. And how almost true this is.

But actually, I have an allergic reaction to something unknown which attacks my body by placing an itchy blistery rash all over it, especially acute between 2 and 4 AM. This is the second episode in the past 3 weeks. I am terrified it is an allergy to wine, which would mean giving up the only vice I have left to enjoy. And my life is now a series of steroids and anti-histamines and feeling awful and not sleeping.

My friend reports that she has just left the hospital after having a CAT scan - the second is just a few weeks, following an extended hospital stay - and she is waiting for the doctor to give her the report. She is worried that the carefully planned weekend of gourmet eating, hiking and gambling is going to be severely impacted.

I am worried about the triathlon. I went out to do my last training today. I felt awful. I was breathless and dragging. I only did half of the workout I planned and decided I have tried my best to compete and I just won't be able to do it. There, I felt relieved. I will tell everyone I tried hard, but between the allergic reaction and the disintegrating discs in my back, I just couldn't fight through it. And then, a voice in my ear, that is playing my Nike iPod connection - "This is Paula Radcliffe, congratulations, you just completed your fastest mile ever." Good grief, back to square one. I guess I am going to compete.

Life after a certain age has its ups and downs!

Gillian Parrillo
SacWomen