Stop me if I have told you this before.
Once when I was in college — or in the summer between freshman and sophomore years — I worked cleaning dorm rooms after the other students left and before the conference crowd came in. Our crew, the “Heavy Duty Crew” had to wipe down all the dorm room furniture with “germicidal” spray. The student I was working with said that she was insulted to have to use “germicidal” spray since there were no such things as “germs.” I posited that there were such things as viruses and bacterium and that we label these things generically as “germs,” and perhaps she should not make rocket science out of it. “But what if I am a rocket scientist?” asked she. “If you are a rocket scientist, why are you cleaning dorm rooms with us?” thought I.
And besides which, I now know that there are definitely such things as “germs.” Germs are what Tallulah brought home and shoved up my nose at some point late last week. Fine. Whatever. Out comes my pharmacopoeia of herbal remedies including echinacea, zinc, and vitamin C. Papa said knock you out. What Papa failed to say was “refill on the nasal steroid, por favor!” Big mistake.
At some point which defies memory, my nose was broken and on top of this my sinuses have more pockets than an english muffin, so I am a bit prone to the sinus infection. Daily usage of the steroid recommended. Failure to have the prophylactic steroid in stock when the common cold visits is a cause for concern. Ignoring the concern leads to not running for three days, inclusive of a long run day. (Plus not getting the exterior of the house pressure washed, but no real loss there, eh. I mean, I don’t have to look at it.)
So there is this big run on Saturday. The half marathon. Running it concerns me some, mostly because when I ran today I wheezed like a bellows and a river of slime came out of my head. That would be ok if I could finish the run and go home. What I am instead contemplating is finishing the run and going to work doing manual tasks for 10 hours. I’m thinking of doing the run in a kilt and sleeveless shirt so that the tattoos show and people will not ask “Is the sick guy crazy for being out here?” because they will not notice I am sick nor question my sanity. They will clearly see I’m nuts.