I spent the weekend doing something very unusual - for me. I slept late, lay around, gazed at the TV catching up on every programme On Demand that looked interesting, watched the Opening of the Olympics that I recorded, fast forwarding through the boring bits (there have to be boring bits when something is over 3 hours long!), and flicked through some swimming, diving, gymnastics, soccer, cycling, and weightlifting (yes, weightlifting - what would the Olympics be without the clean and jerk?)

I never spend a weekend slothing but this weekend I was sick. Sick? Me? I never get sick. I hate getting sick. Sick is for the weak and unfit, the unhealthy and lazy. Not for me. I pride myself on my energy, my spring, my health, my ability to face life's troubles, challenges and upsets and whack them down, one after the other with unflinching verve and plenty of activity.

This weekend I didn't and couldn't. A friend in a far off place warned me to take things easy. To slow down. To have a break. I shrugged her off. Then the universe conspired to remind me that "sorry for you, but if you won't take a break, I'll make you!" And it did. I still feel sorry for myself. And a bit guilty. A whole weekend wasted. Doing nothing.

Truthfully, I know it was not wasted. It was spent recuperating. Regrouping. Gathering my strength for the next week, the next month, the next chapter. I still am not 100% rested. I still need more time. I wonder whether I will give it to myself or whether I will allow the guilt, the drive, the need to do, to win again? I also know that if I let that happen the healing will take longer. That lump of muck in my throat will not budge, I won't be able to smell the roses, taste the honey, hear the music, touch the clouds, see what is right in front of me.

I coach people on this. I advise those that work with and for me to "take a break, listen to your body" but I don't do it myself. I wonder why? It is a sobering to be felled by a few germs. To realise that I am not the invincible warrior I think I am. People don't listen to super heroes. They want people like them, people with failings, and dents and weaknesses. So I resolve to embrace my inner dented, weaker, afraid side. It can only do me good. And I get to watch a bit more of the Olympics.

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