NOW
NOWMitch followed the black line.
He winced from the strain in his shoulders and promised himself he could quit after four more laps. Mitch was a running man. He liked to put on his runners and head out the door, any day, any time. Swimming required organization—fitting around pool opening times, packing gear and carrying cash—planning he couldn’t be bothered with most days, not to mention sharing lanes with fellow swimmers who had to be competitive. He would have liked to have counted the dive yesterday as water time but he knew that was cheating. Besides he spent more time on the flight to and from Cape Hatteras than he did in the water… no exercise in that.
Once a week, he told himself as he followed the black line, lap after lap. Once a week to give the joints a break and keep u
