Friday night I stayed up late for a performance of Waitress. It was a great show, and it also cost me. I got to bed far later than I should have, and my sleep score the next morning was 8 out of 100. That’s the worst number I’ve ever seen, and it wasn’t close.
Saturday, the slow version
Yesterday, I woke up late and started breakfast. My friend William showed up before I finished eating to help me clean, which is the kind of friend you want when you feel like a wrung-out dishrag. I was in a lot of pain, so having someone else do the heavy lifting mattered more than I let on.
I also ordered SPD pedals that should fit the recumbent exercise bike. Next week I’ll go buy new SPD shoes, because my feet are bigger than they’ve been since I was twelve. The swelling has pushed me up a size, and it’s a strange feeling to outgrow your own shoes at my age. Clipless pedals on a recumbent should let me put more of my effort into the pedal stroke. I’m looking forward to it.
A public service announcement about Wonka
I watched the next episode of Wonka’s The Chocolate Factory, and I recommend passing on it. If you like scripted drama fused with a game show, and specifically a game show designed to bring out the worst in people, this may be for you. It was not for me.
I was too tired and in too much pain to vote, get a haircut, or book a massage, so I finished the series. I should have given up on it. What got me was the ending: the fixation on winning, the duplicity, and the idea that $100,000 a year for 30 years would make anyone happy. It broke something in me. I’d like it purged from my memory, please.
The pool and a plan that worked
Ray came over after a workout the day before and my pathetic sleep score, and we went to the pool. Ray is filling in for Sam, who’s on paternity leave, and he’s doing a great job and is super helpful. Congratulations to Sam, and thanks to Ray for keeping me moving.
We did lots of stretching, many squats, and a little walking, and then two rounds of 100 kicks floating on my back. It wasn’t a heroic workout, but it was the right kind for the day.
For dinner I had a taco. Then I watched a spy movie with the usual cynical, everyone-is-lying view of the world, and it fit my mood perfectly. I can’t remember which movie it was. Then I brushed my teeth and went to bed.
The result
I slept 93 out of 100. My pain was also much lower than it’s been in weeks. Going from 8 to 93 in one day isn’t something I want to dismiss as luck, so I want to understand it. Here are three things I might explore.
1. More pool, less walking
The most obvious candidate is that the pool did something walking hasn’t. Water takes weight off my joints and lets me move through a range I can’t manage on land. Water pressure is also sometimes credited with helping manage swelling, and swelling is part of my current story. I walk a lot, and I’ve assumed walking was good for me. But the pain has been stubborn for weeks, and maybe the pain and the walking are connected.
The experiment is simple: for a few weeks, swap some of my walking days for pool days and track pain and sleep. I’ll keep the other variables as steady as I can, though that’s hard to do in real life. I also want to see whether the benefit comes from the water itself or from having Ray there, because I push differently with company.
2. Reverse-engineering the 93
I need to find out why that night worked, and there are a lot of suspects: sleep debt after an 8, pool exercise, an earlier bedtime, a light dinner, a movie that was engaging but forgettable, and no more Wonka. Some of it may just be a rebound effect, where a terrible night is followed by a very good one because the body is desperate for sleep. If so, the lesson is about avoiding the bad night in the first place, not repeating the recovery.
I’ll keep a short log for a month with bedtime, last meal, last screen, exercise, pain level, and sleep score. Eight data points won’t prove anything, but thirty might show a pattern. I’d rather have a recipe than a hunch.
3. Low-impact cycling as the third leg
The SPD pedals and shoes make me wonder whether a recumbent bike belongs alongside the pool as a regular part of my week. It’s seated, supported, and easy on my joints, and clipping in should make the effort more efficient and consistent. My reasoning is that if the pool day was good because it was gentle and supportive, then the bike might be too. I could add short, easy sessions and see how pain and sleep respond in the following 24 hours.
I’ll start slowly. Foot swelling is also a reminder that I should check how new shoes fit after a full day, not just in the store at the start of one.
What I’m taking from this
The worst sleep of my life and the best sleep in a long while happened within 24 hours of each other. I stayed up late for something I loved, paid for it, then stopped pushing, did something gentle, ate simply, watched something mildly cynical, and went to bed. It wasn’t a plan. Maybe it should be one.
I’ll report back on what the experiments show. In the meantime, if you’ve watched Wonka’s The Chocolate Factory, I’d love to hear whether you liked it, and I won’t hold it against you.
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