Adapting to my Environment
That's my bike as I trail J last time I ruined myself running
We have had the heater on occasionally for a week or so since one night when I had to wash dishes and refused to take the freezing any longer. My hands are permanently chapped and splitting open in many spots. I have tried coating them in lotions at night and wearing socks on my them to encourage them to heal. So far, little luck. I tried diaper rash ointment, but I think it is drying my skin as much as my handwashing. We looked for a good, thick lotion, but couldn’t find one yet. Regular lotion only seems to make my skin more wet and also greasy, but not in a helpful way.
Usually, the only heat I get is from R2D2, our dehumidifier. We’ve been having to run him again recently and he produces warm air, mainly from the incredible amount of noise he generates. You can practically see the exchange happening! Sound waves turning into heat!
Last night when I began my fight with redness and cracking, I also began batting at J with my mitten hands–I’m Mittens Romney! Presidential Candidate!
J has a new title. He is now my sleeve manager. I hate wearing sleeves. They’re always falling down on me, getting wet when I try to work with my hands, wash up, go to the bathroom. Then I can’t pull them up because my hands are dripping or messy. So I call Jimmy!! and hold out my arms and he knows what he has to do.
We’ve tried to change back to a human schedule, instead of writing till 5 am and staying up till 6, we thought we’d back it up a couple of hours a day until we got up in the morning, rather than going to bed with the sun. We like night hours, but it makes going to town for business a miserable race and if we go out for a run, it happens in our “morning” and wears me out for the day. I am hoping we can work all day, run in the evening and use the daylight hours in winter to fight seasonal affective disorder, get some natural Vitamin D, maybe use less heat and allow me to survive.
I guess I didn’t notice the change was wearing me out. I was back in the sandals for another run. I was pissy that day, tired and complaining. I went out sniping at J about everything. We took off to run and I decided to run hard, turning the distance into intervals and sprints. I managed a mile in 10:45, a personal best, this way. I finished just over two miles before my leg did that old familiar weak/pained thing and stopped me. I walked it off and managed to only run myself nearly to injury, stopping before I was unable to walk for days. Listen to your body.