I always think I know my body well. I've lived with it long enough in its varying sizes and with its various occupants, that is to say during the incubation of four children. I listen to my body and do what it's telling me, although that is not always wise because it sometimes tells me to eat food I don't really want and drink more wine than is good for me and sit on the sofa instead of exercising. But this morning, after yet another broken night complete with anxiety dreams and some general, free-floating feelings of stress manifesting in a raised heart rate and dizziness, I decided to listen and listen good. So I took myself to the pool instead of the treadmill. The water itself calmed me and I checked my heart rate several times using the massive second hand on the clock by the pool. Usually it was about 120, which isn't too bad after all. After 40 lengths in 30 minutes, alternating between breast-stroke and backstroke (arms-only some of the time), I languished in the bubbles for a while till my pulse was about 85 before heading off for a meeting. Back home with a resting pulse of 70 and a large cup of tea, things are calmer and I hope to hit the treadmill tomorrow.
Today's Exercise. Swimming - one kilometre.
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