Because we just arrived in London today, jet-lagged and disoriented, the plan was to swim in a swimming pool. Kevin had scoped out a place near the flat, the Golden Lane pool, where he’s been swimming these last couple of weeks.
Hazel and I dragged our exhausted bodies over to the pool while Kevin back to the airport to meet Eliza, whose plane was arriving later today. We were so tired that we nearly fell asleep in the changing room. But getting in a pool and exercising turned out to be the best thing. It was a small pool; only three lanes. Hazel jumped into the fast lane and tore away. I opted for the slow lane where I did some leisurely lapping back and forth, recalibrating my breath and returning to my body after the weirdly dislocating experience of international travel.