Running on Empty

...well, not yet.

Went about 5.5 miles this morning. A picture-perfect crescent moon hung over my shoulder, and the air was crisp and primal. Expected to see a puma or two, but saw nary a hair of one, nor a hare, not one.

Am very nervous these days, wondering when my string of healthy runs is going to come to an ugly halt. Why can't I just enjoy it? This morning I felt great, bounding up Solano Avenue from San Pablo to Santa Fe, full of energy and the love of being alive. This is not a bad thing -- why do I have to second guess it?

Today is the worst day of my work week, the dreaded "Joan Day," when all my projects need to take simultaneous lurches forward, all at the hands of our wonderful freelance designer, Joan. She is wonderful, and a good thing too. If she weren't, the day would be unbearable! She loves yoga, which isn't running but does have the effect of making her appear strong and serene. And she cuts her own bangs, which inspired me to hack -- er, cut -- my own.

I seem to have strayed here. Must get back to the grindstone. January 24, four days before Mozart's birthday. Is it inaccurate to say Mozart ROCKS? I think not.

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