Relativity theory

Patience and boredom are both relative to their context. Take a 6-hour race, for example. You run around the same loop 50 times and time still flies. You think you'd be bored, and sure, there are moments when you think that you'd rather be watching reruns of the weather forecast for Khujand, Tajikistan, than run another lap, but on the whole you are so deep within yourself that time ceases to exist.

Spend even 10 minutes watching daytime television, on the other hand, and you know boredom. Especially when your ill health prohibits you from doing anything constructive, like crawling to the bathroom and gauging your eyes out with a pair of tweezers. I think the highlight of my TV-watching experience yesterday might have been the Shopping Channel's ad for supportive bras. I didn't know how big boobs can get. Fascinating.

I settled into a routine early on. Blow my nose. Cough. Drink water. Blow my nose. Take temperature. Marvel at how the fever does not badge at all. Blow my nose. Read a couple of lines from my book. Cough. Log on to Facebook, which is completely dead because everyone's at work. Blow my nose. Consider amputating nose because surely there must be something wrong with it. No normal nose can produce so much snot. Lather, rinse, repeat.

No, seriously. It's not as glamorous as it sounds.

Today I shall not let my illness get the best of me. Before I collapse on the sofa, I shall be prepared. Movies. Books. The latest issue of Trail Runner Magazine (yey!). And time will just fly until I'm healthy again.