Ow ow ow ow ow ow

I think I have shin splints. Either that or I'm fighting off a virus. I am in such robust good health that whenever a virus attacks, my white blood cells overpower it and kick its contagious ass. You go, white blood cells!

Of course, this means a day or two of feeling like death warmed over. Like last night, when I went to the gym, I really wasn't excited about my new best friend, the treadmill. And I thought, "Hmm, that can't be good." Because if you know me, you know I am usually full of beans - the espresso variety. Cracking jokes, talking loudly and excessively, thumping on tables with my fists for emphasis. You know, the kind of person you love at a dinner party but dread going out in public with.

But I got on the treadmill and started to walk briskly and then I started to run. And then I thought I was going to die of pain because my shins were freaking killing me. Every step was agony.

So, I did the uberintelligent kind of thing I'm known for:

I continued to run.

"I'm going to run through the pain," I thought. "I am going to work through it. "

But the pain was having none of it. And I felt like crap. Not all glowy and exhilarated and I'm-going-to-run-a-ten-minute-mile-and-I-won't-even-break- -a- sweat. No, I pretty much felt like curling up and dying, right there on the treadmill.

And then I had an epiphany: "Hey, maybe pain is my body's way of telling me something's wrong."

So I stopped running. And proceeded to walk on the treadmill for however long it took me to burn 120 calories. Which was about twenty minutes. And then I staggered to the showers and struggled back into my clothes and put on my coat and hat and went out to get the bus home. And then I proceeded to doze off between stops. So, yeah, not good.

Better today though, so hopefully tomorrow I can recommence my infatuation with burning calories and getting all toned and fit so I can fit into my really nice black pants that I haven't been able to wear since July.

It's good to have goals.

Light posting, with a wind chill of -4

I've been lax with my posts and even laxer with photos - I'm off work this week and have succumbed to an all-enveloping laziness. I am just so relieved not to be busy and running around and stressed right now. Plenty of time for that next week.

I'm at my parents' right now, with the cats. They're having a good time. Harry had a bit of a shock on Christmas morning when, full of the excitement of wrapping paper and new cat toys, he jumped up on the piano keyboard and played a minor chord. Startled, he ran up two octaves trying to get away from the sudden and unexpected noise. The look on his face - it was priceless. A combination of horror, fear and utter amazement that such a thing could be happening to him.

Is it wrong that we all laughed?