A day, perhaps a weekend, off

As planned, monado & I took Andrea (pictured) to swim at the East York Community Centre, together with her father (my stepson).

As always, Andrea was incandescent; she loves being in the pool; and she’s very fit.

I just puddled around, did some widths, chatted very briefly with an injured runner doing pool-running, and hung with monado mostly. Still it can be a bit tiring.

And so I decided not to do lengths when the pool threw out the kids, and further decided that what my body was trying to tell me was that I needed a day, maybe two off—even though I’ll get very little work done after my surgery on Tuesday.

Last night I was in bed about 12 hours, sleeping most of that, so I’ve missed my morning window to do my long bike ride; might do something tonight.

Andrea wants to go the bike show this afternoon, and we have to take her back to other grandparents’ this afternoon.

After no fewer than twenty-three consecutive days working out—by far a lifetime record—this fifty-three-year-old body needs some time off.