I have the entire place to myself until Saturday afternoon. At first, I thought this would be a great opportunity to work on some of my projects around the house. I wouldn't have to worry about waking anyone up or getting in the way. Alas, shortly after I packed up the family unit and took them to the airport, I started feeling a little out of kilter. Yesterday, every action felt completely lackluster. I skipped my run because it was raining and I couldn't summon the energy to go out and slog through it.

Today, I felt worse. All day long, it seemed like someone was tapping my forehead with a hammer. Occasionally, coughs of such intensity wracked my body, my ribs ached when I finished. I would hack up phlegm the size and consistency of a gummi bear. I felt so bad, in fact, I left work early and came home to take a nap. A quick check revealed that I had a slight fever. After two hours of sleep I was feeling a little better, but not great.

Once again, I faced the quandary of whether to go for a run or mope about the house. If I had run on Wednesday, I would have happily skipped running today, but I didn't want to go two days without a workout. I've encountered enough trouble getting back on a good training schedule to let being sick get me down.

So, I dressed and headed out for an easy jog, hoping the run would clear out my stuffy head. It started raining almost immediately after I stepped out the door. This was especially disappointing because I'd had to squint painfully against the sun while I was driving home from work. I guess my nap was just long enough for the weather to change.

Speaking of weather changes, about a half-mile into my run, it started hailing. Why was I doing this, I asked myself as pellets of ice bounced off my head. The answer came to me in wisdom of a famous running quote: "Somewhere in the world someone is training when you are not. When you race him, he will win."

I want to be the guy who wins.  ¶ 7:40 PM

 

I'm starting to think that running that race on Saturday was a bad idea. It made me sore, and when I'm sore I dread running. I skipped my run yesterday, and now I've skipped my run today. My whole mood has soured in general. I don't like feeling like this. I really have to get back on track.

I know what will cheer me up: a picture of Steven Cozza's mustache. Ah, that's better.

I keep thinking about growing a mustache again, and Dave Zabriskie and Steven Cozza aren't helping dissuade me. I kind of miss my goatee, but I can't jumpseat if I have a beard, so that's out. Mustaches are allowed, but not soul-patches, so that look is out too. You know, it's rare that I get to jumpseat—I could always just shave whatever off if I need to.

What do you all think? Maybe I could get a vote: 'stache and patch, full goatee, or clean-shaven?

  ¶ 10:36 PM