By 5:30 this morning I was in the pool. Wet. Swimming. And it really was swimming again. Not that half wounded thrash I've been doing the last several weeks as I try to remember what I used to be able to do. Picked it up a bit over last time, but still not pushing it. 750 m in 15 minutes working a bit, but not too hard, flip turns coming better again. Then a half an hour of mixed kick, pull, with a bit of drill. Happier by the day. Now if only I can get my left arm working properly.
First yoga class of the season. Yay! There are 5 of us, which is essentially the core of the class over the last several years. It was nice to get caught up with them again. One thing we all had in common - we all intended to practice yoga regularly, and none of us did. I came the closest, what with doing pre and post run stretches, and trying to work out some tightness and general creakyness.
Even better, Fiona eased us into it. The first bit was working on our breath, lying down. Can you imagine? Starting a yoga class lying down. I almost didn't recover to get to the sitting bit, and we never did get to standing. This is my kind of yoga class. I'm glad to be back into it. Somehow going through a yoga class is never the same as doing it on my own.
Best of all, goober breath is not back!
!!!!!!! (Didn't want you to get too jealous of GQH, so here are some exclamation points of your very own. You're welcome.)
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