Labouring

It's funny how much the body knows about itself. Before going to the gym this evening I thought I might be in good form, having posted good numbers on my visit on Tuesday. Since I've been resting much of the time since then I honestly wondered if a slight improvement might be the order of the day. Just how wrong I was became apparent in the first ten minutes on the elliptical trainer.

It wasn't that I was doing terribly badly. But my body just didn't want to move into the highest gear and I knew there was no way to overcome this. Actually I'd been feeling mildly thick-headed all day without feeling in any way unwell. This became obvious to me at the masjid for Friday Prayers where I became aware of being slightly out of things, despite the enjoyment of being back in the mosque. Similarly when we went to Arab Street in the late afternoon with Zahira, who's currently staying with us, the happiness of being out and about was real but sluggish rather than enthusiastic, if you see what I mean.

I did complete my fifty minutes just now, though, despite not really wanting to. So all was not lost. Indeed, I came away thinking I'd behaved sensibly in not trying to push it and in listening to what my body had to say, mysterious as it was.