The other day, I came home from my eleventh straight day of work, and I took a nap. Three hours later (!) I woke up with a raging head cold. I read a study once where the final conclusion was this: the body knows when it can relax and heal, so it suppresses any illness that comes along until that time when it can be dealt with efficiently.
Well played, body, well played.
I had so many errands to run yesterday, including dropping off some serious cash to my future landlord here in Austin. Did I do it? Nah. I slept and drank tea. But do you know what else I did? I ran, and I ran further than I had in a while. Then I lifted weights, and felt so incredibly accomplished. And then when I woke up this morning, I felt like I had gotten hit by a Mack truck. Oh, dear God.
So, guess what I did today? I worked, and then slept through Emali's run, and then I woke up feeling like crap. But after I woke up fully, I dragged my sick ass out the door and took off for a run, and though I really wanted to stop and crawl home, I made it!
Right now you're thinking, 'big effing deal', and that's probably what I would think, were I reading this out of nowhere. But there is a point, I promise.
Point being, I've not pushed my body in years. Even back in high school, I was the first one to stop running, or to say 'fuck it' when things got too tough. I realize that there is a distinct parallelism between body and mind. I need to keep pushing my body, that's true, but what about my mind? I've kind of let things slide since this summer.
I haven't challenged myself, and it's high time that I do. So, as I sit here coughing myself to death after a run I probably shouldn't have taken, I realize it's time to step up my goal game a notch or ten. The question is, where do I go from here?
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