Monday, November 5, 2012


I wake up late. But not late enough to not run. So I do. Run, that is.

Long sleeved shirt on, sneakers on. I'm on auto pilot, on my favorite four mile run. Sometimes, the best runs are those when I'm still asleep and the mechanics of running just take over. I run, I shake out my muscles,  I run, I breathe, I jaywalk (jayrun?). I run with the knowledge that I'll return to my apartment wide awake, with the knowledge that, no matter what happens today, because anything could happen or everything could happen, this is how my day started. This is how I chose to start my day.  This is all me.

It's about thirty degrees outside and the sun is struggling to come up. My eyes tear up. The cold air chills my face, my ears, any exposed skin... My cheekbones are ice. But the city lights warm my soul.

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