Headlamp premier. Sort of.

Time for a short break. Yesterday I discovered, to my great horror, that I had somehow completely missed the fact that I had 4 (!) assignments to turn in for my photography courses, and I have been frantically trying to turn a yellow slide red all morning. Painting blades of grass at pixel level can induce a Parkinsons attack in my right hand, and slide pixels that I've already painted red turn yellow again. Yes, I was that kid in school that couldn't paint within the lines. No fine motor skills to speak of.

Photoshop can be monotonous work sometimes but it's still fun, in a meditative way. Kind of like knitting (I would say if I knew how to knit). Good thing the course leaders are generous with their deadlines. Although I do like to turn in my assignments on time.

Last night I skipped training with AIK and ran with J instead. They were going to run intervals and I wasn't sure if my body was up to it, after the 30 km two days previously. We jogged by the river, me with the headlamp on my forehead, planning in all seriousness to run around all bridges, a total of 14 km. Yeah. I skipped intervals so that I would take it easy, if you're CRAZY and by taking it easy you mean 14 km. It didn't matter though, because after 5 km my knee started feeling weird. As you probably know, I won't stop if I'm not absolutely sure there's something wrong, so I pushed on for a few hundred meters until I was sure. We walked for a minute or so, and then my knee was good to go. But I had revised my plan. 14 km would be too much this evening, and my headlamp premier would have to wait. I kept to the lit parts of the river path and ran a couple of faster kilometres instead, to a total of 10. A golden star for my wisdom in the matter.

This morning I woke up with the feeling that I had swallowed half a litre of snot in my throat. I'm so sorry to gross you out, you guys, but there is no other way to describe that unmistakable feeling that you're about to get the flu. So I did what any sane person would do: I put on my Kinvara and ran to the gym, trained TRX for 40 minutes followed by half an hour at the machines, then ran home again. Ah, denial, my old friend, we meet again.

Shockingly, exercising for nearly 2 hours didn't make things better. So now I'm sipping some peppermint tea wrapped up in some warm clothes. Nothing to do but prey that it's all just in my head. And keep painting pixels.