Physical Therapy, Day 1.
Sep. 15th, 2003 11:19 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
elfsSo, this morning, I awoke at 5:30am to make it to my first day of doctor-mandated physical therapy: at least one kilometer or twenty minutes of swimming, whichever comes last. After rising and quickly getting dressed, I grabbed my pool pack and headed down for the Mount Rainier swimming pool for the morning. It was easy to find and only ten minutes from the house.
I discovered what it means to be prepared. First, there's a fee: $4.50. Not too bad. There's also a three-month pass for $135.00. (Math problem: "adult exercise" swims occur 30 times over a three month period. $4.50 x 30 = $135, meaning that I save nothing by buying the pass and even lose money if I miss a day.) I also needed a quarter-- an old quarter, with the eagle on the back no less-- to use the locker room.
The technology of swimming has certainly improved. The silicone haircap doesn't hurt nearly as badly as the latex ones used to when I was in varsity swim. The goggles work well, too, and actually keep the water out of my eyes without pain. It's not the big ticket tech which matters, but the little things.
I managed a half-klick, about fifteen minutes worth, and when I was done I was in pain. I could barely move. It took every last drop of energy I had to pull myself out of the pool and wobble back to the showers. One nice thing about being at the pool so early and sharing it with but one or two other people: the locker room was empty and I got to use the handicapped shower which, unlike the others, has hot water. I drove home and caught the bus.
To do this on a regular basis, I'm going to need even more preparation. I need to have breakfast ready when I get up, including possibly the protein and creatine mixture I was using when I was bicycling heavily to work on a daily basis, have the money ready out the door, and make sure I've taken the anti-inflammatories. I'm also going to have to make sure that Kouryou-chan gets to bed on time, and I go to bed at the same time myself.
I discovered what it means to be prepared. First, there's a fee: $4.50. Not too bad. There's also a three-month pass for $135.00. (Math problem: "adult exercise" swims occur 30 times over a three month period. $4.50 x 30 = $135, meaning that I save nothing by buying the pass and even lose money if I miss a day.) I also needed a quarter-- an old quarter, with the eagle on the back no less-- to use the locker room.
The technology of swimming has certainly improved. The silicone haircap doesn't hurt nearly as badly as the latex ones used to when I was in varsity swim. The goggles work well, too, and actually keep the water out of my eyes without pain. It's not the big ticket tech which matters, but the little things.
I managed a half-klick, about fifteen minutes worth, and when I was done I was in pain. I could barely move. It took every last drop of energy I had to pull myself out of the pool and wobble back to the showers. One nice thing about being at the pool so early and sharing it with but one or two other people: the locker room was empty and I got to use the handicapped shower which, unlike the others, has hot water. I drove home and caught the bus.
To do this on a regular basis, I'm going to need even more preparation. I need to have breakfast ready when I get up, including possibly the protein and creatine mixture I was using when I was bicycling heavily to work on a daily basis, have the money ready out the door, and make sure I've taken the anti-inflammatories. I'm also going to have to make sure that Kouryou-chan gets to bed on time, and I go to bed at the same time myself.
