Closed Off.

I stayed off the trainer for a few days and feverishly shivered in bed like a good boy. I took my drugs and got my rest and hydrated.
  
Monday morning I felt much better, so I got on the bike for an easy spin. Bad mistake. My lungs are so restricted now that I can barely sustain a walking pace. I can sprint, since that's mainly an anaerobic function, but immediately afterwards I'm retching into the trash can. It hurts. It hurts a lot.
  
My throat is ragged from coughing, and my voice is almost gone. I went to work, but was sent to the hospital and then back home for a couple more days of laying around creating phlegm.
  
I'm wiped out, and I may not recover for the first race of the year.
  
It's not the end of the world, although I would rather not watch all of my hard-earned fitness get thrown out with the used tissues. I'm hoping I wake up tomorrow morning and actually feel like a human again. I hope I can start rebuilding soon.
  
I have plans, and they don't involve lazing around in bed and whining.

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