Sweat

Sweat spot on the swimming pool deck.

According to my exercise journal, I’ve huffed and puffed more often in the past month than in any other one month period over the last two decades.

Government mandated self-isolation will do that, I suppose.

I’m exercising locally. The weather has been pretty good for autumn-heading-into-winter — little rain, mostly mild temperatures — meaning fresh air has been plentiful as I wheeze about the property. The dogs, like their predecessor,  enjoy every moment  we’re out and about at pace.

I’ve had to extend the running route to local roads (sans hounds) where there is little to no shoulder. It’s do-able so long as I keep a weather eye on traffic and wear bright colours I haven’t worn since the 1990s.

I’m not writing as much as I’ve been sweating.  But in these uncertain times, I think achieving one thing at a time is pretty good.

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