Sore

My shoulders were in great pain from my once-a-year foray onto the basketball court, where I made the strategic error of playing 1-on-1 with Z before the 3-on-3 with the gang. I think I burned some of my annually available "rookie magic" in that game. Ah well.

Then, yesterday evening I did a baby triathlon of running around the lake, then playing frisbee with Graham for as long as I could keep him out there, then swimming maybe a hundred yards - out to the outer float and back. Today I am toast.

I did reintegrate myself into my re-reading of William Gibson's 1986 Count Zero, inspired by this Douglas Rushkoff article. Rather disturbing stuff -- I will explain the link later. Which reminds me to keep my nose to the grindstone and focus on the essential. Hang out with family. Serve clients. Work to help elect Democrats and facilitate dialog between warring factions in America. Exercise. Sleep. Repeat.