A Frikken Farce

My body hates me. And all I’ve done is try to be nice to it :( I fed it lots of healthy stuff, I took loads of vitamins, and exercised it and gave it lots of lovely fresh air and sunshine- but no, it hates me and wants me to suffer.

For seven long, painful days I suffered from the flu from hell. For those who know the Rhodes campus, I suspect I may have caught it from the sifness that is the Jac labs- a computer lab on campus infamous for indoor heating permanently set at 48°c, keyboards that shine with sweat and germs, and lots of people coughing and sneezing on each other. For the first time this year I ventured into those labs and my body, incensed at the fact that I would so dare remove it from it natural habitat (aka the new media lab), decided to shut down completely.

Beware the Running Monster

I have never been sporty, I am not coordinated, I have no rhythm, and I can’t touch my toes. I am a useless runner, to the point where my friends are in hysterics when I simply run 10m to a car. But I’m tired of reading Shape and seeing the countless articles about the “amazing” and “unbelievable” benefits of running, or how easy it is and how “anyone can be a runner”, and those suspiciously simple “learn to run 15km in 1 month” plans. I WANT to be a runner, I really do- but it seems that my genetics really are against me. Although, born to an Eastern Province everything father, and a mother who at 50-something smses me daily about her yoga/pilates/aerobics/gym sessions, you would think I would have some sporty genes- but alas, I am useless.