Not 13, but almost 1

This morning, I got a reminder message on my phone: Today would have been my New York anniversary.  On this day thirteen years ago, I moved to NYC and started a new life there. Seems like just yesterday I made that move that forever changed my life. I was actually supposed to be there today running the Brooklyn Half Marathon (and getting my revenge for last year's race), but instead my hamstring and knee still aren't healed so I never booked the flight. Turns out though, I probably wouldn't have been able to race anyway because of my Shingles. I tried putting on a sports bra last night (in hopes of trying to workout this morning in some capacity) and nope, it hurt way too much on my rash. Plus, I still don't have much energy and don't know if 13.1 would have been possible to run today. 

This happened...

We’ve all seen the commercials before… “If you've had chickenpox, the shingles virus is already inside you (dun dun dun)” Ahhhhh. You know what I’m talking about, right? Probably. And you probably think, yeah sure I do, but I won’t get shingles. I mean, c’mon now, that doesn’t happen to people like me. Even though most people may think like that, I actually never did. As someone with a compromised immune system because of the Remicade I take for my Ulcerative Colitis, getting Shingles was always kind of a fear of mine, but I assumed it wouldn’t happen until I was a bit older. Welp, I was wrong. It happened...