One thing ...

My water bottle tells me to do one thing a day that scares me.

This week, that was going back to the gym. It was the one thing that I really, really didn't want to do. But putting it off wouldn't make the eventual return any easier, so I grabbed my inhaler, ignored my shaking hands and charged on in there. Probably a little less personable than usual, definitely not chatty, but I did it. Went back tonight. All of me hurts.

Not easy, no. But I'm doing it, and it fulfills another piece of water bottle advice: Sweat once a day to regenerate your skin.

Check, and check.

I also went running last night for the first time in a couple weeks. Not fantastic, but not too bad, really. And I had to take it down to a walk not because my legs were spent or because my lungs were searing, but because I got an agonizing side stitch that demanded reduced activity. Obey the side stitch. And as long as I was focused on putting one foot in front of the other and not tripping over stray branches in the darkened path, the rest of me didn't hurt so much.

There's a lot to be said for exhausting yourself to a mind-numbing point. Numb minds don't think so much, and they don't allow tender feelings to hurt so much.

And I love this water bottle.