Sickly strain

Two days ago I got the flu, bad, with a fever, runny nose, chesty cough and aching bones. It reminded me (once again) of how incredibly lucky I am to live a healthy life, with enough money to buy medicine and food whenever I need it. Furthermore, it reminded me of how much I enjoy working out on a regular basis. It’s funny how my energy levels plummet (and no, it’s not just the flu), my concentration seems to perish, and anything other than lying in bed for a “24” marathon feels inexplicably demanding after just two days of staying home from the gym. Saying goodbye to Ariz as my mum dropped him off earlier today adds just a little bit of a bitter touch to the whole thing. 

This bitterness is incredibly fascinating to me, because, just one year ago, going to the gym was a chore. It was an effort that had to be factored into my stressful and rushed day on par with making dinner and doing my homework. Admittedly, going to the gym has become a lot easier in the last few months, what with a home gym and all, but even now when I’m in Norway, and have to drive the same distance as I did to Aqualife in Vic Park, it has ceased to feel like an effort. Now, I crave the treadmill, and the weights, and the simple act of putting on my workout gear. My muscles ache not just from the flu, but also from their lack of resistance training, subsequent soreness, and relieving recovery. It feels like my entire being is begging me to put on my trainers, get into the car, and drive off to what should be its daily workout. 

And even though I want to finish my university work for the day, my eyes droop, as my mind promises it’ll let me concentrate on academics if it can just bargain with the body for even a ten-minute walk on the treadmill. Then I cough, and swallow with some difficulty, reminding my body that I am, in fact, sick with the flu. It sighs. Fine then, keep your droopy eyes and wandering thoughts. We can wait. I smile, because the (bitter)sweetness to it is, I really can’t.