I'm sick. Not just man-flu sick. But real sick. As in flu that breaks you down to a bumbling mess and crawling off the bed to go to the bathroom is like running a marathon. I should know, I've run a few. I went out for a 35km run on Friday morning and it went pretty good. It was cold and in parts I felt a little sluggish, but I got through it. I was also enthralled with (and I am definitely late to the party) the podcast, Serial. That helped click off the kilometres a bit easier in the wind and rain. It was only when I tried to get up on Saturday morning that I realised I, eh, couldn't. Not a muscle could I move. I felt like I'd been abducted in my sleep and had a whole barrage of tests done on me and then dumped back in my bed. I've had the gamut of things happen to my body; food poisoning, salmonella, allergic reactions to oysters (that came out looking like a Pollock masterpiece), alcohol poisoning, bad LSD trips, rock-slides on Colorado 14ers.... the list goes on. Every time something happens to my body I say the same thing. “I'm never gonna take my health for granted again!” Yeah, right. As soon as I'm back on my feet I'm thinking what a wimp I was to be bed-ridden for a week. This time I really mean it, though. One of the worst aspects of it for me is accepting help. This should be a no-brainer as I am barely able to lift a cup to my mouth (yet am still capable of punching out a couple hundred words on my Mac?!). I think it comes from the habit of always being self-sufficient and weathering a lot of storms by myself. Now though, I am married, and married to a queen at that. She tells me how great a pleasure it is for her to serve me and I am counting my blessings at how she serves me and how patient my kids are. Everyone is being amazing and all that's going on in my head is, “I need to train, I need to teach, I need to write, I should be making dinner, I need to take out the garbage.....” I always feel the need to do something. But what if God is trying to tell me something and I'm not listening. What if he is trying to say “Relax, Mally. Rest in Me.” Wow! When you put it like that, Lord, maybe I'll just put my feet up and see how this listening thing goes. In fact, I know only too well how it goes. I get in a huff because He is slowing me down, when in the end it serves a purpose that I just don't see at the time. I am great at preaching to others about being still and in the moment, not so good at doing it myself, especially when I'm forced. My main concern this morning after my doc told me no work, no training, and nothing but bed-rest for a whole week, was how it would affect my training schedule for my goal race in March. I was stressing over losing a whole weeks' worth of long runs. I cannot control the situation so I may as well learn from it. I must seize this opportunity to not be in control, knowing my Creator has this all in the bag and I'm just along for the beautiful ride.