With each passing year I move closer to the "Age of Enlightenment" -- The day when I drop the towel, and all sense of public decency, to prance around the gym locker room unfettered and free. All the evidence points to this being age thing. Or possibly a common side effect from high blood pressure medication.
All the Swims
Smack in the middle of Swimuary. Which was preceded by Swimcember. These are the clever names used by coach Liz to make the pain of highly emphasized swim training more palatable. But clever monikers aside, heading to the pool four days a week at dark and wicked cold thirty in the morning takes some steel will on Schmitty's part. Which is why I've only mostly been getting in three of the four scheduled swims. But I'm seeing training gains so there's a positive to all this. I just hope there's no such thing as swim-ebruary.
Making a Murderer
Indeed. It killed two days out of my three-day weekend (ahthankyou).