Empty head

When you are as old and wise as I am, your head is so full of knowledge and information that it just hasn't got space for anything new.

Ok, so that's not strictly true, but it's as good a theory as any as to why I've been intensely reviewing my notes for my Sport Psychology test since early this morning without actually taking in any new information. Why my brain feels like a colander instead of a sponge, letting all the precious drops of knowledge slip away into the drain. Maybe a more accurate theory would be that my brain cells are slowly dying of old age and I get stupider by the day. Not wiser. Yeah, I think I'll stick with the first theory. For my self-esteem's sake.

What I'd like to be doing instead of getting a headache and computer-drowsy eyes is to go for a run. Yesterday's planned 10 km were dramatically reduced to a mere 5 due to ground conditions being extremely irritating. Slush turned my Kinvara-shod toes into icicles and I almost had to stop every time I had to turn a corner so that I wouldn't go off skating sideways on my thigh instead. 

Can't it just get here already? And stay?

 

I don't know how many runners I've seen carelessly running past my window while I've been studying. 10? 20? 100? Where were all these fair-weather joggers yesterday, huh? Why are they all outside now when I'm stuck inside? Is the ground bare today? What's the weather like, by the way? I've been in here so long, I've forgotten what day it is. What year it is. What the sun looks like. What weather is. My brain is as mushy as the slush outside. Attempting to get some semblance of alertness in it by drinking strong hazelnut coffee and munching on a home baked cookie (ok, two) was undeniably one of my better ideas. It might not actually work but boy does that cookie (cookies) taste good.

One chapter left to go over and repeat. And I'm trying to remember that there is life (and running) after studying.