A Different Kind of Marathon

Content by Faustino Fuentes

A box once full of tissues now lay empty at my feet. The trash can overflowed with discarded cough drops and half eaten meals. I had the flu and I was miserable. I sat on the chair staring aimlessly off into space after a hefty dose of cold medicine which made me tired and wired all at the same time. I had quarantined myself in a dark little spare bedroom far away from my happy healthy family. With nothing else to do, I pulled the covers up tight and I flipped on DIRECT TV and settled into a marathon of my favorite travel channel show. It was wonderful to get lost in a high definition trip through all the European countries while I sniffled and groaned the afternoon away. This was the closest to a marathon I was ever going to get so I made the most of it. Four full hours later, sleep finally found me and I welcomed it with open arms. I dreamt of the French coastline and of delicious foods. I awoke to the smell of breakfast and realized I might just survive because I was starving.