Oh, misery

I think I can count on one hand the days that I have felt healthy in 2007. I can certainly count my runs, and I don't even need a thumb. Pa-the-tic, I tell you. Being "under the weather" doesn't begin to describe it; it's like the weather put on a pair of industrial boots with steel plates and squashed my immune system under its heel like a bug in a rug. So while my friend and I have been talking non-stop about how we are so excited to run a marathon this year, I have yet to submit my official registration because the longer my nose runs, the less I do. I feel the months of fitness training trickling away at an alarming rate, annihilating all my hard-earned accomplishments. The concept of driving 42km is daunting to me at my present energy level; the idea of running that far is unfathomable. So I am taking this moment to wallow in self pity. Wallow, wallow, wallow. And to hope desperately that this will all be over soon, before I waste away into nothingness, and my running muscles all atrophy from lack of use.