Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Iven has man-flu. It's a terrible virus which is quite debilitating in males but in females is known simply as a cold. He's been moping around the house. Dragging his slipper-clad feet. Coughing loudly. And talking in a very deep voice so I realise just how sick he really is.
Poor Ive - he married one of the most unsympathetic women that has put foot on the earth. I've remained stalwart in refusing to pander to his illness because I know my boy - one ounce of sympathy will have him reclining in bed for a week.
He has been quite considerate despite his malady. Once he starts coughing in bed he leaves the room and I get to sleep blissfully uninterrupted. I've been hitting the zinc and vitamin c tablets to try and ward off any germs he may have let fly and so far so good. Can't get sick now, I have a race to run on Sunday.
And speaking of races, I'm getting edgy about this one. It's pretty stupid really because it doesn't matter how fast I run. Unfortunately I'm quite competitive and I hate not doing the best that I can do. But on the other hand I don't want to push too hard and suffer any adverse consequences. So for the moment I'm trying not to think about the race at all so I don't get nervous. I just have to turn up Sunday and run how I feel.