Sore arm

Physically, everything was in good order when I woke up this morning and I say this with specific reference to my left arm where it meets my shoulder. If there had been any problem I would have noticed it when, for example, I washed my hair.

But by the time I went to do some recycling at lunchtime, I could barely lift the lid on the big cardboard bin. I'm not sure what I did, to be honest. Maybe I pulled or trapped something when I was stripping the linen off one of the beds? Whatever I did, it was painful enough that a quick practice jog along the hall told me I should give up on my running plans for the day.

It wasn't such a problem when I was back at my desk and working but every time I went to do anything else I found myself ruefully reflecting on how I normally take the smooth running of the extraordinary machine that is the human body for granted. 

****
-10.0 kgs
Reading: 'The Vanishing Half' by Brit Bennett

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