Yesterday, as part of my once bimonthly exercise regimen, I went for a run... for the first time in approximately (give or take) eight months I'm so in shape.
You could say that I'm feeling it today. You could also say that I've been hobbling everywhere. But, um, excuse you. Actually, no, that would be pretty accurate. Generous, even.
Funny things happen when I go running. I start having allll sorts of meandering/profound/philosophical thoughts. (Everything's a metaphor!) In between the ones about my feet hurting and not being able to breathe and being 96% sure that I'm dying, that is. Hopefully you're experiencing all kinds of second-hand embarrassment right now. Basically I turn into Ash you met her here on any sort of weak over-the-counter med.
A little anecdote for you:
Our sophomore year of college, one evening Ash was s t r u g g l i n g through a nasty chest cold. So she took some nyquil, along with her asthma inhaler. Twenty minutes later the girl was highasakite. Natch, we had a little heart-to-heart. Quite possibly my favorite of all time, with anyone, ever.
It culminated in this little exchange:
Ash: l o n g p a u s e Cheryl?
Cheryl: Yeah?
Ash {dead-as-a-doornail serious}: Do you think that me putting my bed in the corner...is like me putting myself in the corner?
Cheryl: ....
Ash: I feel like I'm really limiting myself.
Cheryl: .... I'm going to go, and you're going to go to bed now.
I left and she proceeded to write and submit an important paper for one of her classes. I later read it. Pure gold. That poor, poor professor. She also moved her bed into the center of her room that night. She may or may not have still been feeling the effects of that one dose of nyquil well into the next three days.
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