I decided on Thursday morning that I needed to start running again, in part because I'm playing hockey with the guys from the paper tomorrow. Well, I didn't decide on Thursday I should start running (I'd decided that months ago), but on Thursday I went and did it. I was up, had some time before work, and laced up the sneaks and hit the pavement.

And I struggled. It was cold, and I did a loop around the block here that involves some hills. That and the cold air made it a tough route to choose for my return to harrier status. I made it about six-tenths of a mile (I discovered after I'd showered and measured the loop in my car on my way to work). On Friday, I got home early, while it was still light out, and actually made it back to the house, which is roughly eight-tenths of a mile. If I extend it by running on the street parallel to ours and come back down the next block, I'll get that mile. Next time.

Because there wasn't a next time yesterday. I woke up with a stupid sore throat, and went to bed last night with a true cold. Argh. Sniffle. Cough. Sneeze.

So I'm resting up and drinking my fluids and wondering if we have any cold medicine (at least there's Sudafed) so that I can still make hockey tomorrow. With a light week at work, everyone's basically been given a free day off either last week or this, and so I'm taking Monday to get a little exercise in. And on Saturday I'm supposed to join some friends in a charity touch football tournament.

We finally have a kitchen faucet that works correctly, though I still can't figure out why our digital cable requires us to watch the channel we're taping but Dad's doesn't. I thought I had it figured out, but it didn't seem to be possible when I got home. Must look again on Wednesday. And must look into TiVo again, now that there are two receivers that make watching one thing and taping another -- or taping two things at once -- possible.

I have to blow my nose.