I have been saved from myself

Some of you might remember that, a few months ago, I was a regular jogger. I might even have described the act of running as being merely “unbearable” as opposed to being “only preferable to having nails pushed through my eyes”. By golly, I might even have harboured thoughts of completing a marathon. Clearly then, I was deluded and in need of severe medical attention which duly arrived because, after one particularly long plodding session, my back gave way.

Now, before all of you start pulling out your tissues for a good cry, I must say that that was a few months ago. I’m all better now. So much better in fact that, last night, I imagined myself once again pounding the asphalt, cleaving the night air in twain with my svelte runner’s physique. And all while stuffing my face with some fried chicken. Hell, just ten minutes ago, as I popped some nuggets into my maws, the thought of running was running around in my head.

It is with considerable gratitude, then, that I sniffle pathetically into this handkerchief as I have been doing for days now. Thank God for this divine flu or who knows what madness I might have committed.

Once again, unhealthiness of body has proven the remedy for unhealthiness of mind.