This blog's been pretty much a downer for a long time - thanks for hanging in there - but things are looking up.
When very ill, there's two ways one can think. One is to wallow in despair (and the Eeyore in me tends to go that way) and the other is to try to enjoy life in a minor key, to explore the negative spaces in the web of agony. After two days of being able to swallow only a small sip of ice water, eating a grapefruit is a revelation; a week later and... it's just a grapefruit. Two days without sleep and I found a moment when I thought "I don't hurt! Should I do something, or should I sleep?" and I slept.
So, today I ran. I wheezed and my heartrate was stuck at full-throttle, but I ran 6 miles (53 minutes), far further than I imagined possible. I coughed for an hour afterward, but it felt good to be outside again.
The other good news: I met someone. For reasons inexplicable, she doesn't seem to care that I'm old and gross (and she saw me at my worst). A couple of people who read this blog have met her - and yes, she's a runner, but not competitive - and I'm not going to mention her again unless it's germane to the blog, but it occurred to me that she's going to Google my name and find this blog, so it's time to delete some stuff. Old and gross is one thing; old, gross and creepy might be too much.
Raise the Jolly Roger
1 week ago