Sunday, 12 February 2012

Sick, dude.

How to tempt fate.

On Monday, confidently state "I haven't had a cold for ages - not for over a year!". On Tuesday, do a 60 minute spin class and beast yourself in the short sprints. On Wednesday, wake up with your hair hurting.

I know I'm ill if my hair hurts.

I'll explain. When I have a temperature, I get sensitive skin. This probably happens to others too. Any touch feels uncomfortable. This also extents to the skin on my head, under my hair. Brushing/waggling/moving the hair is therefore mildly distressing. Since I was I child, I've thought of this as my hair hurting.

Unfortunately, I've not been ill enough to milk the situation. Slight temperature, mild cold symptoms, puffy eyes, inflamed sinuses. Oh, and my hearing has been affected too. I've not had a hacking cough, constant streaming nose or any of the other obvious signs that lead people to look at you, shake their heads and demand that you go home from work for fear of starting a new outbreak of plague. I've had to carry on, like a brave little soldier.

If I'd been properly ill I could have come home, curled up on the sofa, drunk hot toddies, eaten boiled eggs and caught up with the 20 episodes of The Wire that sit on my Sky+ box (Tivo for USA-ians). I would have had my dinner cooked, the washing up done and ownership of the remote control.

There have been two concessions to my condition.

1. Fish finger sandwiches one night, instead of the scheduled culinary masterpiece.
2. No training.

I'm now feeling slightly normal. I doubt I'll be doing any exercise until at least tomorrow but it's not out of the question. There may be a full roast dinner cooked this evening. And I might, just might, start taking some bikes apart in preparation for "pimp my singlespeed".

Then again, I've got 19 episodes of The Wire to watch. And fish finger sandwiches rock.
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