Wear(y)ing Of The Green

I got to see more than my fair share of green this St. Patrick's Day, when I awakened with the need to clear some accumulated gunk from my sinuses, throat and airway. I am not certain how you feel about breathing, but as a former childhood asthmatic I'm quite fond of the act, especially when I consider the many unsavory, often permanent, consequences of the alternative.

Rather than sit miserably at my office and risk passing whatever bug I might have to my three co-workers, something all-too-common with people who see themselves too indispensible to an organization's well-being, I'll sit miserably at home and risk passing it along to my wife and dog. Poor me, I get to listen to Miles Davis instead of the Diane Rehm Show today.

Suzanne says I probably shouldn't have run last night. There's a part of me which thinks she may be correct. But, it's more likely my gunky, junky throat comes from doing (running) business in a bar, where cigarette smoking is allowed, on Monday evening. Not the 90-plus minutes of easy running, walking and elliptical trainer which I did yesterday. I spent a little too long in a bar with some cigar smokers some months ago, and ended up with the same junky throat a couple of days later. It's a minor setback on the road to recovery, but I know what I did wrong. It's nothing that time (rest, if my dog decides to let me) and good over-the-counter drugs cannot cure.

Sometimes a health issue is an outcome, sometimes a correlation. And often a simple one. We look for the big solutions to what's killing us as a runner or athlete, when all it takes is looking at the smallest part of our daily routine; what we do, eat, drink, or inhabit the other 23 (or less) hours of the day we aren't running.

I'm not certain if that makes sense to the person inhabiting the very big world outside of my stuffy head, but it does me right about now.