Babyboy has had the flu for the past five days, so Hubby and I have had crappy sleep for the past five nights. We’ve found ourselves up at odd hours dosing liquid acetaminophen, delivering Albuterol puffs, fetching vomit buckets, and futzing with the humidifier.
My alarm has been chiming at five a.m. every morning, and though I had been on a sunrise Spinning streak, and was so proud of myself that I even blogged about it, these past few mornings, I just couldn’t.
Monday was the first morning I gave in to exhaustion. My clinic starts at 1 p.m. on Mondays, so I silenced the alarm and slept an extra two and a half hours. Two and a half hours. I didn’t even try to get a workout in, what with wrassling Babygirl into decent clothes and through some semblance of hygiene routine, and coddling fluey miserable Babyboy into drinking some fluids.
So when I finally got out the door and on the train, I had that familiar tired, achey, slovenly feeling that I get when I haven’t moved.
But what could I do? It being April in New England, of course it was blizzarding out. Of course.
But was that any excuse? My tired, achey, slovenly body urged me to move!
So I made a split-second decision and burst through the subway doors one stop before the hospital, determined to walk. Outside. In the snow.
The Boston Common was largely deserted, and absolutely beautiful. My impulsive power-walk was actually a very pleasant experience. I stopped briefly to snap photos, posted below.
Though my detour only got me about 2000 steps (roughly a mile), it helped me to clear my head, and start my clinic workweek in a healthier frame of mind and body.
Update: It’s been a few days. Just as Babyboy started to improve, Babygirl spiked a temp. Hubby and I pass each other in hallway in the wee hours of the miserable mornings, sharing eye rolls and grunts…