My two weeks of prep before getting back out onto the roads running have gone relatively well. I have managed to stick to my stretching regime and have been able to get myself out to the gym three days so far this week. It feels good to be doing something again, although I’m surprised that I don’t look ripped yet. What does it take?!
Next week I will start to add some running back into the mix. I need to work out how to get to the changing rooms in the office that I’m currently working in as I don’t yet have a pass that lets me through the internal doors. That will be coming my way within the next couple of weeks I hear. Nothing happens quickly in this place.
So I’m feeling good about myself for the most part. I even bought that new car that I promised myself. Unfortunately I don’t get it until some time in the New Year. Something to do with production schedules.
And yet, I’m feeling a little low. My knees and ITB are still giving me jip (or gyp if you prefer). I guess this is to be expected as my attempt to fix myself has only been ongoing for two weeks. Still, sore knees make me feel old. It reminds me of my dad struggling up and down the stairs first thing in the morning, something that I have been doing for a while now. Add to this the giant fungus growing on my bottom lip and you have a recipe for extreme self loathing.
Technically it isn’t a fungus at all but herpes labialis, or orofacial herpes, and is an infection of the face and lips by the herpes simplex virus HSV-1. A large proportion of the population suffers from it and once you have it the outbreaks repeat with varying degrees of regularity throughout the rest of your life. In my case I contracted it from my mum when I was quite young. Nowadays I tend to have a flare up when either I’m on holiday or when I visit my mum. It’s the gift that keeps on giving.
It’s not particularly bad in the grand scheme of things as it doesn’t stop me from doing anything. It does make me feel lousy though. I can feel it growing on my bottom lip, as though it is some pustulent parasite that is slowly erupting from my face. This leads to a week of being self conscious and trying to ignore the staring and double-takes from people at work. A week of no kisses from my wife and daughter. A week of avoiding mirrors so that I can’t see the yellow monster on my face. It feels about three times larger than it actually is of course and yet this knowledge does not help in any way.
All that adds up to a mixed bag this week. It can only get better of course. Next week will see more stretching and gym work, and if I can find my way through the building to the changing rooms then I might even brave the arctic conditions for a quick run or two.