You know how sometimes you just keep rolling along, a certain sense of momentum propelling you forward regardless of how you’re actually doing? And you know how eventually, you find time to stop, sit down, take a rest and chill out – and then you discover just how exhaisted and run-down your body really is?
Well, that’s me.
I seem to have somehow bluffed and blundered my way through the last 6 days and now I’ve reached the weekend, I’ve taken two days out to rest and supposedly recouperate, and I find myself more exhausted now than I did when I went to bed on Friday night.
It’s good to know that my chest can be relied upon to perform to it’s best at the right times, although a bit of warning of a delayed-reaction strop would have been nice, if I’m honest.
I feel somewhat aggrieved that I’ve spent my weekend doing nothing to recover and my body feels like it’s been forced to to and Iron Man and a marathon back-to-back – but I suppose that running the backstage side of a comedy night and partying thill 2 in the morning, coupled with a “normal” working week including early mornings and evenings out is pretty much my body’s equivalent to the Iron Man-Marathon combo.
The important thing is to stay on top of the treatments, make sure I’m getting my physio and nebs done and keeping the flow of calories as high as possible to make sure that exhaustion doesn’t lead to any other nastiness. If I can’t do much but the vital things this week, it’s not the end of the world – I need to make sure I’m not trying to carry on as normal and running myself into the ground – always a danger with me, I’m aware.
So it’s early nights, lots of rest, little to do during the day and plenty of food – when I can get my appetite to play ball. The rest of the week will have to stay on stand-by until I know that my body’s ready to come back out of its shell.