The other night I was laying in bed trying to sleep and began to cough. I was almost out when it started and nearly sat straight up from the surprise. Why should I be coughing? What is the meaning of this? That I’d been sneezing for the previous 24 hours gave me no reason to wonder if I might be unwell. I felt fine. Other than this sneezing and coughing nonsense.

And then on Tuesday it became apparent. The isolated symptoms gave way to malaise. I dared not tell Dan for fear that he would suddenly give over with the exact same illness. He has that ability. One minute completely fine and the next sick with the same thing you’ve got only much much worse.

So on Monday I went running which was logical as I may have been sick but had no actual idea such was the case. It was a good run.

On Tuesday I was definitely sick. I dropped Madison off at school and – this is the part you might find slightly absurd – went for a run. It was a good run.

For some reason as soon as I’m sick I am also hell bent on keeping my house compulsively tidy and have a strong desire to exercise faster, harder stronger than ever. I don’t usually run in winter. Yet I have gone twice since the sneezing started 3 days ago.

The strangest thing happened during yesterday’s run and this strangest thing convinced me running was the right thing to do: my hands, they were sweating profusely. Profusely means not just a little bit but a lot. In my mittens there they were creating little oceans of wet. But not just that, my whole body was oceany. Which I realize is not pretty but I adore sweating. Not your general run of the mill sitting around dripping for no reason sweating. That is not fun. I do not want to be at the opera in my ball gown sweating like I’m sitting directly on the equator at high noon (is that when the equator is hottest? I have no idea!). But having a good sweat in the steam room or after taking tylenol 3 while you are sick – that kind of sweating is just amazing to me. Sweating out of the toxins. So good for you.

Good for you.

Good for you.

Good for you.

Generally speaking, Dan and I have decided not to get sick anymore. I have to remind him of that when he looks at me like I am an open festering wound of germs that just oozed onto his pillow (oh the horror!). I have to remind him that he doesn’t need to spray me with antibacterial cleanser. He’s decided not to get sick. He will be okay.

I, on the other hand, hadn’t really decide not to get sick anymore and that is why I am sick. I decided I would not get sick some of the time. Because you see, sick is like holidays for me. I never really slow down but once I’m sick and stop running around sweating, I might sit down for a minute or two together and get the rest I haven’t been getting for what? the past 5 months?

Me: I thought the sweating of yesterday would mean not sick anymore today.

Dan: I thought it was a warning. A red flag. The body saying, Sit down, we’re not well.

Me: Nah.

(pause)

Me: I wish I had clean jammies.

Dan: We all wish that.

I am going to rest today. Which is to suggest that I am not taking any kids to school and will nto be getting out of my jammies for at least another half hour. I do have to do laundry because otherwise Jacob will have to go to school in his longjohns. Not that he’d mind. They’re pretty cool longjohns. And besides the laundry I’m sure I’ll end up doing something but will definitely not be going to my exercise class tonight. Probably. Maybe. I might go. I don’t like not going.

Something makes me think it’s not entirely the fault of the people around me that I don’t get enough down time. I suspect my personaily may also be at issue. But no, self blame benefits no one, especially me.