Well the subject line is a lie. My lie. I haven't been running at all. The previous weeks' lack of running was by choice, now it's more health directed. My burning chest says 'no'. I have to listen. At first it was not bad, I didn't mind not running, or so I thought, but this past weekend showed me yet another shift in the 'sole' of this former (but possibly current) couch potato.
I was driving through the suburb mid Saturday morning and I watched in admiration as many runners seemed to be out in the Summer heat running. I realised that I was admiring them and then my chest gave a flame or two, and I turned my eyes back to the steering wheel. Sunday morning I was up early to meet at the club, for an early breakfast. I couldn't manage the run, so I left home when the sun was already high in the sky. On route I passed eight different runners, all running silently on their own. Yes, I did count them. Then I realised what I was doing. Much to my surprise I was envying them. Me. Envy. Run.
This formula almost made my couch self laugh, but the athlete part of me started planning and concocting all sorts of new training programs that I am certain I will stick to, once I am better.
The irritating part of this kind of ill health is, that I feel qute healthy, then a brisk walk around a shop leaves me feeling shaky and flu-ey, with fire flames lashing at the base of my throat. So I succumb to the softness of the couch, or more often, the study chair. I don't feel sick enough to visit a doctor, which is the hard part, because surely then I should be able to run? A short sprint to a ringing phone, reminds me that I am not quite ready for any jaunt around the block. So I have to be (a) patient. So I will. For now.