From void to void*

Because of the surplus library aides, I was able to take the afternoon off yesterday to go to rec. This was my first opportunity to go to rec in two weeks due to lockdown and illness, and I wanted to make it count.

The gym was not available for use because court lines were being painted on the floor, so it was outside only. What a great day for it, too! The temperature was in the seventies and the sun was shining. Our lake of a track had dried to run on. The only bad thing was the super-strong wind. Dirt was picked up and thrown in my face constantly and, even with my head bent over, it was a task to run into the gusts. I wasn't going to allow moving air to get in the way of a good run, though. I hammered out five miles - the most I've run at once in a good while.

Little did I know how much that run was going to hurt me. Today my legs are a bit sore, but nothing that keeps me from walking normally. However, my lungs and throat did not fare so well. The combination of dry air, dust and heavy breathing tore apart the lining in my throat, and the stale recirculated air indoors hasn't helped the matter.

I stayed up last night coughing and choking on a scratchy wind pipe, so I set up my hot pot as a humidifier on my bunk. That helped some, but not enough to feel better this morning.

Today, as I was thinking about my throat and the dry air of this place, I realized that this place is like a museum, except we are the ugly paintings no one wants to see. the state preserves us as efficiently as possible - usually to our detriment. the dry air keeps art from decaying and we are even pumped full of preservatives in the dining hall and commissary. Kind of strange.

* "Visiting a museum is a matter of going from void to void" ~ Robert Smithson