Run three miles before noon.
Drink iced green tea, made from scratch, in the afternoon.
Go to bed before nine, get up before six.
Accept the disorientation. The poet August Kleinzahler wrote a lovely essay about driving from JFK to his parents’ house in northern Jersey after a flight from France, and using the disorientation to see them, him, and the surroundings in ways that were original.
In the midst of the confusion, I’ve been writing, seeing patients, and watching the Olympics on a mounted screen above the treadmill at the gym. Yesterday, Brazil and Germany squared office in a doubles match of Women’s Beach Volleyball. Some years ago, a comedian made a joke about her boyfriend channel surfing: “What is he looking for? Naked women playing sports?” Beach volleyball is just that.
Later, it was grilled Albacore on braised bok choy with freshly grated wasabi and an ice cold beer: Part of the cure.