Running won’t kill me but Hypochondria just may

The other night, I was incredibly sore when I went to bed from all the awesome running we have been doing. Like ‘cannot move without making awful noises’ sore. Like ‘take a bath with 40 cups of Epson Salts’ sore. I didn’t because I’m not rich and Epson salts aint cheap. So as I am laying in bed, I keep getting this whiff of a toxic smell. I start to panic that maybe carbon monoxide has small bursts of scents? So I grab my phone and start googling. At this point I have accepted that I may die in my sleep either from carbon monoxide poisoning or freezing to death as my only choice of making it through would be opening my window. As I get up to to open said window that may kill me, I get another whiff of the toxic smell. The smell has gotten closer to me. I then realize it is my brand new lacrosse ball, that I brought to bed.

 

The moral of this story, I guess is, carbon monoxide is colourless, odourless and tasteless.

 

 

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