Dying Bear.

Not to exaggerate, but I was infected by The Plague.  The Little Bear got it first and then I did, while my Gummy Bear waited until I was half dead to start feeling sick.  It was great.  We were all sneezing and farting.  Snot was everywhere, our eyes were red and itchy, throats were hugging by themselves... UGH.  But, the important thing, my mother came over to nurse us.  While SHE WAS SICK.  In fact, she came over and cooked/cleaned/pushed me around all while she battled her own plague.

My mother is the most amazing woman ever.  I mean, I don't know how she does it.  She's ol'school.  Oh, and her hair was as curly/bouncy as ever.  The fever made her flush in a girly fashion and she was matching from head to toe.  I mean, I feel like I had pus coming out of my eyes and my hair was half straight, a quarter balding, and the rest curly.  My nose was flaky and I stank of death.  I... admire my mother.

Anyway, thanks to her care, I finally felt good enough and could breathe enough to go out for a run.  I skipped yoga, pilates and yesterday's steady run.  I did 30 something minutes outside at 81* and took my dogs.  B/c everyone should suffer.

"How are you going to run if you can't breathe?" - The Hubby (silly hubby)

I'm so glad I made it home.  I took a shower and cleaned off the remaining virus/cold/flakes of my almost dead body and I think we made it!

I think we have finally crossed the line and we're all OK.  Dear God, I'm a whimp but I already knew that.  Now you do, too.