I. Am. A. Slug. It’s official. I am a whiny baby when it comes to being ill. I don’t like being sick, I don’t function well when my throat feels like I’ve swallowed broken glass, I don’t want to even THINK about cardio when I can’t breathe freely without panting. I just want to lay here and wallow in my own misery.
My husband quite helpfully pointed out that I would feel much better if I would just get in the workout room and put in a good hour or so. I had a hand gesture that I think made my point without me having to say a word in my gravelly, nasally, plugged up voice. ‘Nuff said, honey?
As of today, I haven’t worked out since last Thursday. Today makes it a full week of no exercise, other than meandering through the house looking for yet more tissues. I feel tired, deflated, and a little irritated that I was doing so well, only to be felled by a little microscopic germ. I can’t even muster up any enthusiasm for looking forward to exercising…as I know it will be hard (almost like starting all over again…ugh!) Anyone who has ever gotten over the flu or other lengthy illness knows what I’m talking about. Two or three days is easy to make up for…a week is like a kick in the seat of your pants. And not in a good way.
Hopefully I will be back in somewhat of a routine by this weekend. Maybe not one and a half hour workouts yet, but then again, I REALLY don’t want to suffer any setbacks. One lengthy illness per season is enough!