#camel cup

[fuckyeahboardgame-blog]

Camel up or camel cup? Regardless it is one of my favorite games currently.

[thechocolatebox]

THE CHOCOLATE CURE

My neck is frozen.  I can’t turn my head either way and even yawning hurts.  My ability to see behind me, and therefore my chances of survival in the wild = zero.  I've been wearing a black and grey skivvy for two days, an orange scarf swathed around my neck and a hot wheat pack on my shoulder like an ugly, comatose parrot.  If you can’t tell already, I’m grumpy.

Now I know injuries come a lot worse than that.  A friend’s husband is in spinal rehab right now.  But there’s no denying the frustration that comes with any kind of immobility.  Our bodies are supposed to carry us through right?  Even with the occasional missed lunch, one too many drinks or over-enthusiastic jogging.

Yes, I was jogging.  It was 6:30am and I had reignited my night vs. morning experiment.  I was running through the early morning fog we had in Sydney this week..

..feeling like I was in a movie montage: imagining myself crossing the finish line of the City to Surf with my best friend Tealia.

‘Ego’ stated my massage therapist when I told her why I was running. 

‘It would be for charity,’ I mumbled, trying not to hang my head in shame (too painful). But it was true, I was running towards an image in my head: Tealia and me, fit and triumphant, just a little sweaty, but not much, because as I mentioned, we were so fit.

My friend and I are in our latish thirties.  We met on the brink of our twenties as waitresses in Alice Springs.  Back then we were immortal, of course. I was about to travel the world and she to win the Camel Cup... 

Back then our bodies were the vehicles for our dreams and they didn’t need much in the tank.

But I’ve thrown a tonne of stuff in the tank this week; painkillers, anti-inflammatory gel, tiger balm, fish oil, to no avail.  Last night when my youngest got into my bed at nine pm because he couldn’t sleep, I took two Mersyndols curled up next to him and passed out. 

Today my head was as foggy as those Sydney mornings.

But I needed to get the kids to school and I needed to write.  I’m a freelancer.  I work for myself.  There’s nobody I can call and chuck a sickie to.  The medicine cabinet was out of ideas.

‘You need to look after yourself,’ my partner Paul said.  ‘Just because you’re self-employed, you don’t have to be the meanest boss ever.’  And he had a point. No one can be as hard on me as I am: no one else has all the material! Who but ourselves knows our egotistical hankerings, our insecurities, our laziness and how much we’d really all like to crumple onto the couch with a big block of chocolate?

I couldn’t crumple because I had deadlines to meet and money to make.  Once you’re a parent, looking after your kids trumps your own care in every contest. But I could get chocolate. When my kids are hurt or sad a hug and chocolate always helps.  Why not look after myself the same way?  Halfway through the block I feel better.  I still can’t move my head but I’m comforted.  Apparently dark chocolate can calm you down, but I think anything you enjoy is going to give you that moment of bliss that makes the next step easier.

And what’s that other emotion we beat ourselves up with?  Guilt? I have none.  I’ll be training again for the City to Surf next week- if only the one in my head.

(Foggy Sydney photo courtesy abc.net)