Yesterday I had a headache and felt rather queasy, like the hot cross bun I’d had for breakfast might make a return visit. But since I hadn’t run the day before, I was itching to stretch my legs. I am like a dog. I need the outdoors. I need the fresh air. I need the exercise…even if with every step I took I was also scouting for the nearest garbage bin in case I had to make emergency use of it. Still I plugged on, determined to do the 10k’s I’d started out for, even though my stomach was starting to cramp from the nausea and my head was pounding in time with my feet.
There is a word for people like me. Obsessive.
Actually there are several words…compulsive, fanatical, excessive, pathological all come to mind quite easily.
Is this sort of behaviour really necessary? If I were training for the Olympics I would commend my commitment. But I’m not, so it just makes me seem like a weird, overly focused individual with no ability to mediate my own behaviour.
I am not normal.
But today I’m striving to be so. I still don’t feel great, so rather than reenact yesterday’s woeful performance I’m going to stay right here at my desk, drink my fresh ginger tea and write. The muses usually get released with the endorphins of my run, so I’m going to have to find another way to entice them out. Conventional methods, like persisting with my block, forcing myself to stay strapped to my chair, completing writing exercises till the floodgates open.
Wish me luck…this is unchartered territory…
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