I was laid up in bed for a week with immense pressure headaches which felt like someone was pushing shards of glass into my brain. That one, presumably Delta, was horrible. I’d been invited to the Wimbledon Men’s Final and, despite everyone having to present a negative test on entry, it seems someone managed to give it to me there. I wouldn’t have known I’d had it if a friend I’d been for a walk with hadn’t prompted me to test after he came up positive. The second one, around October 2020, was much the same. My first infection was towards the end of April 2020 and I didn’t even realise I had it at the time it wasn’t until I found myself coughing and spluttering after running 100 metres out of my front door – which felt odd as I’d done a half-marathon just a few weeks earlier.
Since late April 2020, I’ve had the virus not once, not twice, but five separate times. That sounds quite exciting, but unfortunately, the thing that marks me out is my unrivalled ability to catch Covid.
