2010 was shaping up to be a pretty good year for me. I felt like I was on a bit of a roll. Professionally, I was challenged, and there was a massive amount of work on my plate, but I like working at warp speed, so it wasn't an issue. I was taking good care of myself and was heading back towards my fighting shape (I wasn't actually a fighter, but I had been a recreational athlete, running regular 5 and 10K's, kayaking, mountain biking, skiing, and doing an occasional mini alternative triathlon-meaning mountain biking, trail running, and kayaking together).
I felt really confident heading in to the second half of the year. Perhaps I was a little too confident. I remember making some smug comment about not having been sick in a while, and at that moment I felt like I had cursed myself. I never should have been so bold as to make such a remark, but I did, and the die were cast, or is it the die was cast ? This was in July. I thought about it every day over the following two months, how fortunate I was to be healthy and how I never should have said anything out loud about not having been sick since March 2009. I remained healthy and thought maybe I would be okay. I was sorely mistaken. And, I am pretty sure I brought this all on myself. I never have considered myself a bragaholic, but, rest assured, I won't be spouting off about long runs of not being sick or not breaking bones ever again.
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