Doublethink

Now that the rotten stinking pig bastard everlasting bronchitis seems to have buggered off altogether touching anything wood within reach and I am back to regular exercise - yay! yay! - I'm having to manage a mad kind of doublethink. You see, I am currently as weak as an asthmatic kitten and as slow as a drunk slug. Let's not mention the Return of The Lard. All the gains from all that work last summer and autumn have evaporated. Gone. I'm frustrated and discouraged. *frowns/pouts/feels depressed*

ALERT! ALERT! Bleating and wallowing in self-pity imminent! Intiate evasive action! Activate doublethink!

But what is doublethink, you ask? Avoid those unsightly wrinkles, dear reader, and knit not your brow. Doublethink works like this:

1. Eradicate all memory of how effortless things used to be, how 2km or 40km or 15km were just ordinary swims, rides or runs. Pine no more for those dear dead days. That was then, this is now. Suck it up.

....while simultaneously.....

2. Remember how very good it felt to be that strong, and know, somewhere deep down, that I can get back there. Remember how consistent effort works. Remember that it does work.

See? Tooooo confusing - like a speeded-up game of table tennis that is only visible at the very corner of my eye. But it's helping me get out the door each day. Lumbering will change to ease, 17km/hr will become 25. 1000m will become a warmup. Patience, grasshopper.

Unrelated: the chappie who cut my hair today (whom I had not previously met, and who did a smashing job BTW) asked me if I believed in angels. He told me they have messages for me. He seemed otherwise perfectly normal. This is by no means the only angel-themed strangeness to happen lately. Hmmmmmm.

I've been writing a list every day of ten things I'm grateful for. It's changing me.

More anon, cherubim!