It’s the thought that counts
The last notable thing that happened in 2008 was that Santa, or one of his invisible representatives, gave me the virus. He had cookies coming out of his ears, and still he choose to leave germs instead of, like you know, an iPhone.
However, I am not really complaining because I was only completely down for the count on Boxing Day (yes, I ate my roast in bed – at least I could eat, I know) and my real life Santas from all over the world blessed me with cards, photos, funky cool knitted arm warmers, California poppies, a ‘nana saver (which deserves a post of its own), rockin’ CDs, ho-hos and Nutter Butters – my favorite! iPhone take that!
But, back to the virus. You know, the one that everyone around the world has right now. Or one very much like it. Like I said, it only knocked me out completely for a day or so, so I was lucky in that respect. But, that incompletely part totally kicked my ass. Not being sick but being sick has to be one of the most annoying things. I went for a run on New Year’s Eve and got to mile 2.5 and thought, “wow, I’m done” even though I had felt fine before I started putting one foot in front of the other.
However, this week has been better. Wednesday, I decided to venture out into the land of “it’s not much but it’s got to be better than nothing, even if that something is totally mental”. I did yoga. I didn’t die. Granted, it was not too demanding of a session, but still, I didn’t spend the entire session working on my breath in child’s pose.
Yesterday, despite the immense fog that blanketed the land, my friend and I resumed our Thursdays cycling. Having both been sick, we took the mountain bikes out to Fowlmead, saying this way we can do as little as we want (so hard core, I know!). We thought we’d take a spin off road, but then decided that avoiding the trees in the dark mist sounded better than abrasions and fractures, so we kept to the track.
We didn’t end up doing very much (though we did enough to get the blood pumping to my hands and feet at least), but it felt slightly satisfying knowing that, once again, I didn’t feel like I needed to crawl into bed for the next week. So really, I’m hoping it’s the thought that counts. Fingers crossed.