After high-effort swimming, lots of long runs and several solid bike rides in recent days, it was time to absorb some of the training. And to heal, too, as with nine weeks to go there will certainly be heaps of hard stuff ahead. Plus, c'mon, I'm 46 years old. Hardly ancient, but after 40 years of sports, much of it pursued without regard for life or limb, the body is a little creaky here and there. So it was a rest day. (It was also 83 degrees and beautiful in Portland. So I guess you could say my most strenuous activity was hauling the little Weber out of the shed and firing it up.)
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