Saturday morning I woke up and immediately realized two things: One, I’d slept really well, since it was more than an hour later than I’m used to waking up on the weekend. And, two, I was intensely sore, all, as Maud Frickert used to say, over my body. Not a flu sore. Rather, an I’ve-done-something-my body’s-not accustomed-to-doing sore. In this case, diving for softballs. Fortunately, I had a cure.