Went to the gym earlier this evening for the first time since I had the problem with my back when we were in KL. I could have got back to serious exercise last week, actually, because the problem had pretty much cleared by last Tuesday. That's why I could go to the mosque on Thursday for prayers for Haji, something I didn't think likely to be the case the Thursday before that when nothing seemed to be healing. However, the Missus was adamant that I needed to wait longer before subjecting my leg muscles to a work-out and that seemed sensible to me.
I took it reasonably easy just now, limiting myself to thirty minutes on the elliptical trainer and deliberately under-doing it. In fact I was pleased at being able to keep myself in check in a reasonably disciplined way and not get carried away - though the fact I was thoroughly knackered after twenty minutes contributed to my atypical good sense.
It's a relief that I feel okay now, giving a degree of confirmation that I haven't done myself any damage, but I'll only really know when I get up tomorrow. Part of the pleasure of aging is living on the edge like this - never quite knowing if tomorrow is the day you'll find yourself unable to walk.
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