Oppressed by the Breast

The Crazy Man Quadrathon is now only two months out and my body is feeling pretty beat up. I'm having problems with a foot; I'm having problems with a shoulder, and my energy is starting to dip pretty low. I dragged out of bed Monday morning to meet Tyler at Plate City Gym where we had to work our way around the collapsed heavy bag stand, the bag, and all of that. Neat. We did push and pull. Since my shoulder is a little jacked right now, I did not do the bench press but replaced it with the Viking press. Yes, Plate City has one of those curtesy of Leflore Steel. It is attached to a 4 X 4 cemented into the ground and doubles as a standing calve machine. Yeah, we are good like that. 

Monday is my long day at work so when I got off, I was tired. But I went home and took a short shuffle going down on the river trail, heading out Hades Road, and hitting the turn rows until I came back into town. I only went 2.45 miles, but that is a lot more than last week on Monday. 

Tyler and I met at the pool at 6:00 p.m. I already knew I could not swim much. In fact, I purposed ahead of time not to swim a single stroke of crawl. I can swim the breast stroke without pain, and since I am registered for the 50 breast at the State Senior Olympics, at least there is that. So I gave Tyler some direction and I just did breast. He did real swimming. I swam:

  

  16 X 25

  3 X 50

  2 X 75 ouch!

  4 X 25

  total: 800 yards of breast stroking, the most in my entire life.

That is not what I wanted, but it is better than a poke in the eye. Injured 19 days before my big swim meet, and registered for six events. Lovely. But I can still run, can still do some lifting, and can still do some swimming. The operative word there is "some." Maybe I can get my backstroke back (see what I did there) soon. Praise God anyway.