I spent yesterday evening dealing with all sorts of nasty consequences from my 1.4 miles. First I thought, oh great, I really am getting trichinosis (we ate partially uncooked pork Sunday night), then I decided I must be terribly allergic to wasp stings, and finally I realized it was the run that was making me feel like death. Nice. I was too sick even to enjoy reading. This afternoon I am going to huddle in bed and hold my stomach, or maybe get my head examined.
Bill, of course, helpfully informs me this is normal. When I am in better shape (meaning after I have subjected myself to several more months of this), I will not get nearly so sick. Something to look forward to.
I'm at church and I'm supposed to work now. I don't feel particularly up to it. I'm going to drink gallons of water and eat bunches of bananas and curse the inventors of fitness.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment