the really important stuff

It's 8am on Monday morning. Noddie and the Spousal Unit are asleep in the big bed after a night when I changed Noddie's sheets twice and listened to J snore like a combine harvester, as he does when he's sick. We are a House of Plague. Germtown. The Phlegm Palace - sorry, that was a bit gross but why should I suffer alone?
Naturally I haven't been running. I spent Saturday consumed by those frantic mouse-on-a-treadmill thoughts - this is my second bad cold this year, what's going on? I eat well, I'm maintaining my weight, I work out, this isn't right, how can this be happening 5 weeks out from the Melbourne Half? Serves me right for racing too soon before my main event, my preparation is ruined now, there goes my new PB, waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa...all that stuff.
Then I got a grip. Sometimes people just get sick. It's pretty pretentious to think I'm in complete control of everything that happens in my life. No-one except me cares about my uber-slow time so if I get another PB, great, and if not, I've had one this year. I've had no injuries (touching wood) and I've done the distance three times in the last month so I know I'll finish. Running in a huge event like the MM is about feeling as though I belong in that atmosphere, that excitement, that buzz! And I've done the work, I've paid the money and I have the courage to show up and be slow on the day so I do belong there. It will be a great day whatever happens - and I'm sure you realise there's a medal involved!
I'm still pretty dark about this cold though. Adding insult to injury, I hopped on the scales this morning and seem to have gained 2kg overnight! What can you do?

On to the REALLY IMPORTANT stuff:
HAPPY FATHERS' DAY (for yesterday) J!!!! We love you!