Well … it has been a week. Almost two weeks, really. I got sick. I thought I got better. I was wrong. I got sick again. I was wiped out. I shut down.
It hit me hard last Wednesday afternoon. Sore throat that wouldn’t go away. I’d done a great workout that morning – Wii step, a Zumba routine, and Gorilla Workout. Yay me! I was so stoked that I’d done all that, and yet, I was soooooo tired. But, deadlines and responsibilities kept me busy. Then I saw that we were due for an ice storm that night that would last through the morning, when I planned to be on the road to get groceries. So, I decided to be smart and go out for groceries Wednesday night. Yay me! It took a while and it was freezing, even though I was bundled up like Randy from A Christmas Story. I came home coughing and hacking, and I couldn’t get warm. Hey, but since I was so smart and did my shopping Wednesday night, I wouldn’t have to go anywhere Thursday morning. And Thursday is my planned rest day from the gym. So … yay me! So smart.
And then on Thursday I woke up and felt like crap. Sore throat. Congestion. Major fatigue. I spent most of the day wrapped up in blankets on the couch, drinking tea or cocoa. My son volunteered to make dinner, such a sweetheart. If you follow me on FB, you can see his amazing creation. My daughter also helped, cutting up fruit to make a fruit salad for us. By Thursday evening, I knew I’d need some NyQuil to get through the night. But that makes me spacey, and coupled with icy roads, I didn’t want to get up to meet my gym partner at 4:30 am. It was just as well; I still felt like crap. So, no workout on Friday.
In fact, I went upstairs to take a shower after my daughter left for school, saw that my husband didn’t make the bed, and climbed in. I slept for two hours solid. Apparently, my body was trying to tell me something. I didn’t even wear my pedometer on Friday or Saturday. My husband picked up pizza on Friday night and brought me more orange juice and soup. Saturday, he made breakfast while I slept in. I’m usually up by 6 am on Saturday. I think I got out of bed at 8:15. I didn’t want to touch anyone’s food, so he made dinner, too.
Now, you have to understand that I have worked at home for 15 years. I usually make all the meals. My kids like to help and I am teaching them how to cook, but for the most part, it all falls on Mom. So when Mom doesn’t feel good, and shouldn’t be handling other people’s food, it’s a little weird. I kept wanting to get up and help, but my head was so stuffed up that every time I tried, I found myself hurrying to lay down again.
By Sunday, I was determined to put this crap behind me. It had been a week and a half since I first got sick, and I just wanted to be over it. I stayed home while my family went to Mass. My head was still stuffy and I didn’t want to be out in the cold, coughing on people. Plus the acoustics in our church are awesome. But when your head is plugged up, they’re anything but awesome. It feels like the piano is right inside your ear canal. But I was so tired of sitting still. So, I got up and did some chores.
Nothing major. I ran a load of laundry so my son would have clean P.E. clothes. I tidied up the living room. Put away some stuff in the den. Cleaned the kitchen sink. All little things that could’ve waited. But I felt like the house was looking a lot like I felt: rundown. And we’d both been that way long enough.
I still had to take it easy. I’d do a little work, start feeling worn out, sit down for a while, then work some more. But I realized how good it felt to MOVE again.
It’s funny; after my whole decline due to inactivity and all that time spent on the couch, I’d come to loathe movement. I’d go into the gym and do the bare minimum, then be upset that I wasn’t losing any weight. And as I kept myself stagnant and neglected, I suffered. The less I moved, the more it hurt to move. So it was a nice surprise on Sunday to realize how much I missed moving.
I think that’s a big step in the right direction. I’m still not quite 100 percent back from The Crud. Maybe 80 percent now. I went to the gym this morning and did my regular workout at about half speed. The goal was just to put in the time, not worry about calories burned, and get back to my routine. But that’s OK. I might be getting over The Crud for now, but in the long run, I feel like I’m on the road to recovery from something much, much bigger.