Mr. Yuck feels my pain.

I feel like crap. I have some vile bug living somewhere between my throat and my lungs, and believe it or not, complaining about hasn't helped whatsoever. I've tried whining, I've tried grumbling, hell, I've even tried moping. Man, I've tried nothin' and I'm all outta ideas.

But, I still got off my bum and went to the Y tonight...made myself do a little running and I'm hoping for a second wind. Like...maybe my endorphin rush is just a little late, and it'll hit me while I'm laying in my recliner...here it comes....wait for it...nope, just a yawn. Ah well...it's almost 9pm...that's a respectable time for a 30-something to be in bed, isn't it??
CRAP I'm old. Guess that comes from living with the little Petri dish sleeping in the crib in the other room. I swear, that kid's nose has been running since he was born! Good thing he's cute, because he's a biohazard. Poor Connor, I blame him for every sneeze, now. Hell, I work in a microbiolgy lab and I'm a clutz, I could've innoculated myself for Chrissake.

So I've been training for my first 5K race, which is actually training for my first 10K race, which is actually training for my first 15K race, which...is actually training for my first half-marathon. I plan to run/walk the half. No way I'm running it, not this year. I walked it last year, so maybe I'll run it next year...baby steps.

...or maybe I'll just sit here and get drunk...