English Muffin Week

In the indoor cycling (a.k.a. spinning) class I attend with great fervor and cult-like loyalty, there is a saying: "Every bike is different," which refers to the fact that some days you might have the tension on your bike turned up four revolutions before you hit your wall and some days only two because, literally, every bike is different, and what matters isn't necessarily the number of turns on your bike but rather the idea of listening to your body to ensure you are neither taking the easy way out nor setting yourself up to fail. But sneakily and over time, the saying has made its way into my everyday, non-spinning life, morphing and twisting itself to apply to any situation where you encounter others going about things differently than how you might—be it your grandma, friend, coworker or the writers of a critically-acclaimed television show. (Specifically, those of the finale episode of The Killing.) An example of this in action might look like:
"I can't believe they just did that!"
"Every bike is so different."

All of this is to say that this week I was sick. My appetite was off. And "listening to my body" led me down a strange path of consecutive English muffin-based meals. With that, I bring you: The evolution of being sick as portrayed by variations on the English muffin. Fair warning: Every bike is different.

Day one:

Butter, sugar, and cinnamon.

Day Two:

Apricot jam and peanut butter.

Day Three (getting more curious):

 Nutella and bananas with a side of Emergen-C.
 

Day Four:

Poached egg and sautéed spinach.

Day Five  (I suddenly got really hungry):

Fried egg, cheddar, and prosciutto.

On that note, today is day six; I'm on the mend and have moved on to something else notoriously English! (Let's go Mardy Fish!)