Back in the slow lane

Got back into the pool this morning for the first time in more than a month, thanks to wrecking my shoulder a while back.  Had to hit the slow lane because I still cannot handle the front crawl, just breast stroke and back crawl.  Man, it is difficult to not swim hard, but I did get a pretty good workout.

Gingerly stepped on the scales to see what not swimming had produced (I don't own scales, so rely on the pool's).  Forcing myself to open my eyes and look at the number, I was relieved to see that two pounds were all I had gained.  But I have been eating less, so that helped.  Maybe I will actually have a piece of bread?

Walking out on the deck, about 10 people came running up.  "Where have you been?  We were worried about you!"  Casting their eyes on my black-and-blue upper right arm, they all gasped.  "No, it's not from the injury, it's from the treatment," I explained.  Whaaaaat??!!!  Yep, my physiotherapist uses a sadistic treatment called the "Graston Technique", which consists of a collection of steel instruments that he runs with considerable force over your flesh to see where the injury is and then proceeds to pound and push it with all his strength.  As I said, it's a great profession for a sadist.  It is incredibly painful, but it is working.

Enough whining, as I always say, it's not cancer!