Yesterday I subjected my cold to a brutal regime comprising: chilli (in a green Thai chicken sandwich); pure fruit juice (orange and raspberry); satsumas; decongestants; some kind of mad herbal cold remedy tablets; lemsip; coffee; Red Bull; and choc chip muffins (you 'feed a cold', right?). If I were a cold, I would be running away right now. I will be well by the end of this week, if it kills me.
The thought of going to a karate class last night in this state of health wasn't incredibly appealing, but I went anyway, and actually had one of the best lessons in ages. We went through all the set sequences that I need to know for my purple-belt grading at the end of November (I've been putting it off for Far Too Long, but I will do it this time), and I felt as though I was getting things right more often than not. I know all the moves, but there are times when I feel like I'm fighting against my body and times when I feel like it's working with me; this was one of the latter times.
I've spent a long time over the last few months trying to channel lots of hurt and anger and resentment into blocks and kicks and punches, which is great from the point of view of raw power but lousy for style or technique; it breaks everything up into pieces, divorces body from mind. You can't try to convert the emotional into the physical; you just have to realise that they're the same thing. Now I feel as though I've let a lot of the anger go, and suddenly everything is flowing more freely again, from the blood in my veins to the thoughts in my head.
Okay, so it would be nice if my sinuses would get with the programme; but let's not ask for the moon (on a stick): we have the stars.