I have spent 2 days feeling like an old person. After swimming I drowned my green lungs in a small, Italian beer before being annihilated at Scrabble. On Monday TSK drove us home then I wilted under the duvet whilst he went out for a ride. On Tuesday I wilted under the duvet whilst TSK went out for another ride. Like an old person, though, I did have a trip to the dentist and the doctor, just for some company... and fillings.
And I started a new knitting project.
After a prolonged day of knitting and sleeping we retreated to the Chinese takeaway for Christmas indulgence of a different kind. As I stood in the queue my legs started itching to move and I actually had to go out and pace up and down the street to feel better. Perhaps the illness is turning around. Sadly, after big food and TV the coughing was back. Not productive cough because you feel like it but annoying, tickly cough because you need to coughing.
I took it to bed and floundered. Literally until i finally suppressed it enough to sleep and woke at 8:30 with a bad back. Clearly been lying in the same position for 8 hours to avoid stirring the lungs.
I couldn't face another day lay on the sofa / bed / chair / floor so packed my swim stuff after breakfast and headed for the one place I have been comfortable doing any exercise this holiday - a nice chlorinated pool.
I didn't feel like it but I felt like doing nothing even less. Once in I started to wait for my body temperature to adapt but then concluded that the best approach was to let rip.
I had planned to do 12 lap sets, increasing on Sundays 300m sets by 33/25 times. I didn't know how much that was but it felt like it might be doable. First time around it was enjoyable. I hit 12 laps before I knew it and had to make myself rest. The next set I focused on pointing my toes since I noticed I wasn't doing it. Also if there's a time to use my legs in swimming it really has to be the time when I am unable to get out on the bike.
It made a difference - mainly that my breathing went to pot - but I was looking at my watch after 6 laps which (phew) turned out to be 8 as the next lap slid over to 10 and the 12 was done.
On the last set I kept count. I was tiring towards the end of the set but hey, I felt like I had more left in me. It was fine though. It's about consistency now and I want to be able to go again tomorrow - whether it's a swim or my beloved turbo.
I swam one more length to the end of the pool for my swan dive - pushing the boat out and flying in the face of fear that my sinuses would explode (they didn't).
With all that excess energy I decided to do my yoga at the gym instead of facing the prospect of my chilly loft when I got home.
Much to my dismay (ahem) the Sheffield Eagles rugby club were doing a spin session and I had to use all of my yogic strength to ignore their whoops and grunts as their coach led them through a gruelling spin set. However no amount of concentration could prevent me breaking out into a wide grin when they all started singing along with Justin Beiber's "Love Yourself". I was pretty impressed with the harmonies on 18 guys with legs the size of your average tree-trunk.
I mused over the yogic precept to 'speak no cruel words' and how difficult that is when the gymnasium offers such prime fodder.
The rugby team went home and I finished my set in peace, taking an indulgent moment to walk out without having touched a single machine. I also gave inner kudos to the man twice the size of me who joined me on the mat for a brief time to demonstrate his far superior flexibility.
The workout fired me up and felt much more beneficial than yesterday's slob-fest. I did shopping, household stuff I have been putting off forever and I felt like I earned this time, sitting on the sofa feeling fine.
Trepid Explorer, off to enjoy doing the dishes.
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