It's amazing how the convergence of great spring weather, the end of intensive grant deadlines, and the gradual drying up of chest mucus can restore one's natural joie de vivre. I hadn't been depressed exactly, but the joie de vivre had been hiding out in the garage or somewhere. And then this evening I came home from work and a little shopping jaunt to Target (a bunch of spring-y t-shirts and some white denim cropped jeans) to find a medium sized box on the coffee table. Closer examination revealed exotic stamps and distinctly foreign handwriting.
It was my book! My German book. So Kommen Sie in Schwung: Triathlon für Couchpotatoes. This title was the result of several transatlantic phone calls and a lot of frantic emails around the print deadline. I ended up really liking this. "So Kommen Sie in Schwung" means "Get into the Swing" or "get into the groove" or even "get going." And "Triathlon für Couchpotatoes" means, well, pretty much what you would think. I love that part. And, as you can see from the photo, Tim now has his first book cover!
Thanks so much, Nicole and Sportwelt Verlag for making this happen. A great lift and an inspiration to me to get my butt out the door on my half day off tomorrow.
So... I was going along, doing my PT, my Superman exercises, and then I kind of tailed off with that. But I was starting to be able to ride a bike a little again, a couple miles here and there, which was nice. The water gradually receded from the bike path; the little green leaves came out on the trees.
Then I got really busy at work. I worked bits of a weekend here and there, longish hours most weeks. Volunteer stuff too. Deadlines, board meetings, committee meetings, and then a bit of socializing tucked in at the edges. A week ago last Friday, we turned in a particularly troublesome grant, I met with clients for the next grant in Daly City (Kome sushi buffet - quite an experience), drove back to Sactown, met up with family for dinner, went to see Master Class at Capital Stage, and said good night to all. On the way home, my throat started twinging in that "you're getting sick" way.
Eight days later, I calculate that I have hacked up over a liter of phlegm. I have an inhaler for the spasms in my bronchial bits and a cough medicine that gives me nightmares. Or maybe that's the episodes of Being Human I've been watching. No pneumonia, no fever. Just cough and mucus and lethargy. And the urge to compensate for the lethargy and ruined weekends by eating everything in sight.
This BFFC is feeling pretty derailed at the moment. But I am NOT giving up. Grrr.
