Evening Recovery

The day's drills take a toll on moving parts. I marched across the living room carpet to the lowest shelf, where a small plastic ice pack lay flat on a forgotten tray. No complaints. Recovery is part of the regimen. I sat straight against the dark timber baseboard, pulled the dense chilled plastic block flat across both my thighs, and kept my spine rigid. The cold bit into the molded plastic instantly. Five minutes of stillness. Tomorrow demands fresh joints.