Why is it that every time I want to start my training schedule life has intervene? I have a cold that started on Sunday, dripped into Monday, poured into Tuesday, and limped into Wednesday. What is it with a cold? It's a simple attack on the body--coughing, runny nose, maybe a sore throat--yet this one completely drained me. No fever, no rash, no loss of appetite. I don't get sick very often, but when I do I'm a wimp. My wife disagrees with me that women seem to get sick more often, but just handle it better. Maybe it's because they know how to take care of themselves. Without my wife, I'd think a couple beers and a bag of potato chips would do the trick. Instead, she introduced me to a line of pills and syrups that would probably work if my body knew what to do with them. After sucking down a small cup of syrup, I had a real buzz--my head was light, my body felt like it disappeared, and my thinking self went to sleep. I became a smiling zombie.
At this point, I'm trying to make sure I'm well enough to hoist all the heavy furniture into the new house this Saturday, much less go for a run. A few minutes ago, my reflection in the mirror showed a bedraggled soul. I really need to pull myself together. At least the poor weather's given me reason to work from home, which helps me rebound faster and keep my colleagues healthy. After watching me bury my face in tissues yesterday, I'm sure they're grateful.