For the first time in about four weeks I didn’t do anything. I sat in the DH’s Lazyboy, crocheted and watched stuff on Netflix. Saturday it was a nice long marathon of Wire in the Blood. Sunday, in honor of Joss Whedon’s birthday, I watched The Avengers. While I glutted myself on television, I crocheted. Sure the afghan grew, which made it feel like I’d done something, but physically, I really didn’t do anything- no running, no yoga, not even any heavy cleaning. By the end of the weekend I could feel it. My back and hips were sore, and I just generally felt wretched.
I might not really be a runner yet (or ever), but my recent attempts to get myself off the couch have worked their magic by at least making me realize that in the long run doing something is always better than doing nothing.