Three miles before breakfast. The first part felt slower than usual, mostly because I was still half asleep and my calves were tight. By the second mile I had warmed up and stopped checking the pace. Same roads, same turns. I like knowing what the next block asks of me. Back at the house my shirt was damp and I could feel my pulse while I stood by the kitchen sink drinking water. Nothing hurt. I had enough time to shower and eat sitting down before the boys came looking for their things. My younger one leaned against me while he tied a shoe. For about a minute all three of us stayed in one place. Then the day got moving.

The boys want to change the order of our backyard throwing game. I said the old order works, which it does, but their version gives the younger one more turns instead of having him out first most of the time. I went through the rules they wrote on a piece of paper. There are a couple of gaps. There are also a couple in the version I've been using since I was their age. We can try theirs Saturday and see where it breaks down. I'm not changing baseball. It's three people throwing at a target by the fence. I did ask them to agree on the score before we start, because I know exactly how that argument will sound afterward.

Dad came to watch the boys hit in the basement and stayed longer than he said he would. He mostly watched from the stairs. When the younger one made solid contact, Dad nodded the way he does when a repair holds. I was pleased. The boy looked over to check whether he'd seen it and Dad said he had. That was enough for him. I wanted to tell my wife about it later but it sounded small when I started explaining. It was a good hour with my father and my sons, no problem that needed fixing, nobody asking for anything. I like those afternoons. I put the net away after they left and kept the ball they had used on the workbench.