One main reason - to rest and recuperate (does that make it two?)
It's been a while since I felt myself - the little healthy kid who's free to do anything and everything, who would set herself goals and achieve them, who would make the most of every minute of her life and strive to fill it with the sweetest memories.
And somehow as if God just flicked a switch, I was the kid no more. Gone were the days when I could run 14 miles after work and study for (and pass!) exams at the same time, globe-hop here and there and collect stamps on my passport. My lungs, which used to power me through those daily riverside runs to work, suffer as I breathe in those recycled air on the underground. Every time I get knocked out by some seemingly innocuous virus I would tell myself this would be the last, I would fight and get myself better. But somehow this process keeps repeating itself. I have not enjoyed a reasonable period of good health for over a year, as if every time I get myself up from being knocked out, someone would hit me hard with a sledgehammer, and down I am on the ground again. It hurts, it hurts so much, especially when the previous wounds haven't healed properly.
And I told myself this has got to stop.
Saturday, 28 February 2009
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