Earlier this week, I received a very early birthday present.
A friend registered my name in for a half-marathon race coming up sometime in
August of this year. I’m sure other people would question the status of their
friendship with someone if such a friend’s ‘gift’ was an entry fee/registration
for doing a 13.1 kilometre long run in the middle of the hottest days of summer. However, racing in
a half-marathon competitively was something that I was going to dare myself to
do anyway sometime this year. This friend just provided that extra push to make
me commit to that goal. All I have to do is the training for a few months, and
then show up for the race and do it. I’m thankful. I have six months to train
for it; I could feasibly do it in three. My training research link.
However, my plans and ambitions to do some preliminary
training for long stretch running this weekend have been dashed by lousy
weather and goop-filled lungs. The bronchitis
seems even more worse today than yesterday , and even just thinking of the
effort I’ll need to get out of here just to get some groceries is tiring enough
for me, never mind thinking of the discipline I’ll need in the future for this
race. Right now, breathing in the below -25°C air outside instantly makes me double
over, putting me into a furious fit of coughing, as I found out the hard way when
I tried to walk the dog outside yesterday.
So, I’m sick again, irritable, bored at home, having no bodily
energy and stiffness throughout; a restless, yet headache-clouded mind. A situation like this usually never works out
well for me. I’ve given thought about relieving myself with symptom suppressing
sedation, but I favour lucidity, and really have no desire to ride into
Looneyville on the crazy train that is Neo Citron. Not when I look around and
see all the desk work, bills, and other correspondence I have to catch up on
now that I have a fully functioning computer. That will only take an hour and a
half to do at most, I’m almost half finished that stuff now as I drift between
that and writing paragraphs here. I’ve re-considered heading out for groceries
now: it’s pointless to waste energy to shop for food, or to cook, when I have
no appetite anyway.
I thought I’d try and cure myself by using some
thermotherapy in the sauna downstairs in the recreation room, but then I saw a
notice that the rec room has been booked for the day for someone’s private
function. I suppose I’ll continue
reading the last of Stieg Larsson’s novel of the Millennium trilogy, The Girl Who Kicked the Hornets’ Nest.
If I can’t use a Scandinavian spa utility to sweat this bug out of me, then I’ll
try sweating it out using Scandinavian suspense literature. With the suspension
of my television service coming soon for spring and summer, it’s probably a
good time to figure out some more options to put on my reading list as well.
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