Friday, at 11:25, I exited our file room and told the nearest person to make note of the time, as that was the moment I felt a cold coming on.
Of course, when one has a lively time on Friday night, and one does not feel so hot on Saturday morning, one needs said person to corroborate: at least some of it is legitimate, not self-induced sickness.
And when Monday night turns into building a big ol' nest of blankets on the couch just to maintain a decent body temperature, and has already depleted half the orange juice purchased just an hour earlier, it's bad news bears.
This week is NOT the week to be sick, for the record. With a new member of our family expected any day now (and no, not springing forth from my loins, if there are any of you out there wondering if that tidbit of news has any relation to my lack of outfit photography), I can't be sick. And this cold spreading through out our department? It appears to be a nasty one.
Advice is rampant
- Sleep! Do nothing but sleep!
- Here! Eat these oranges! All these oranges! So many oranges you'll get hives! (Ok, that was totally my own doing)
- Eat spicy food!
- Eat comfort food!
- Take EmergenC
- Take NeoCitron
- Take a hot shower!
And of course, I had to be the rebellious type and do the one thing not advised: hit the gym.
I'm starting my third week of my membership to our onsite gym at work. It's not quite as easy as I thought it would be, being right there outside my office door. I don't want to get up early to go, because who wants to get to work early? I don't want to stay late to go, because why stay at work if they're not paying you overtime? But today, I tried something new. I ran on my lunch break. I figured limiting the amount of time I had might help to set my expectations low and not overexert myself.
My coworkers discouraged it (even once I explained I was intending to shower following my work out), fretted over me, and even tried to physically prevent me from going. But I went, with them shouting behind me: "Stop if you feel tired! Stop if you feel dizzy! Stop if you can't breathe"
I took it slow, averaging about 14mph, doing intervals of walking and running. And around the 15 minute mark on the treadmill, as the sweat (which did admittedly creep up much faster than usual) drew the germs out of my body, I felt healthy.
Sure, my face was beat red when I got back to work (it generally is after any work out), and sure I only managed 80% of what healthy-Cara could have done in that time, but it was worth it.
The only thing that felt better than running the cold out of me was the look on people's faces when they asked how my workout was (expecting to respond with an "I told you so"), and I said: "Meh, not bad... only ran 4km" and bounced away with a skip in my step.