A hostile takeover?

A bright yellow gym bag sits open, ready to be filled for the trip to the YMCA.
The running shoes are clean, free from the mud of their last outing.
The sports watch is charged.
A stack of sketches waits to be transformed into shapes cut from oak and pine.
Hand tools with sharp and keen edges; longingly wait to be let loose for the purpose they were made.
The work shop is quiet from being empty of new projects.
The battles of so many 10 mile runs are replaced with struggle to keep the lawn at bay.
The hunched over man I passed in the mirror this morning has the familiar face I have seen many times in the past.
The mouse and keyboard resist my commands more as the work day rolls along.
The stairs to my 2nd floor office become 3 times longer at 3pm than they were at 6am.
The concern is sensed in the eyes and voice of the one closest to me.
Mr. RA is starting to take over more than my body.

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