I am a mess. Stomachache, headache, flaky skin, chapped lips, cracked hands, tendonitis, fatigue, bloating, a sense of doom. Tomorrow I plan to stay home for regular meals, a spot of housecleaning, 50 pages of Latin, hand lotioning, vitamins, IBU profen, stretching, laundry, open windows, tea drinking, and silence.
There will be a green monster for breakfast, followed by roasted brussel sprouts, hummus soup, cucumber-tomato salad for lunch, yogurt and honey for dessert, oatmeal or fresh bread for supper.
(I ran last night. 2.5 km. On the way home, my feeling of strength and invincibility was shattered when two men followed us, throwing ice and using a bantering tone to threaten me with rape, to try to pick a fight with Tim. I did not think I had agreed to play a victim or a pawn. I am still exhausted.)