I said I would post today, so here it is. I've felt stressed and tired for about 48 hours now, and awoke with a crashing headache. Well, terrific, I thought. My complaints sound like a broken record (scratched CD?). I need to slow down. I take on too much work. I'm way too involved in trying to keep the universe functioning. Can't figure out why I persist in the same behavior and yet never stop hoping for different results. I believe that paradigm is one definition of insanity. However. I rolled out of bed into the quiet dawn (even the house was dead quiet--Z is out of town) and threw on my running duds. Out the door, down the street, through the cool and empty streets, down my regular path, all the way out to Brighton St. for my longest run since the marathon, which was three weeks ago yesterday. The above is a random snapshot taken from my urban route--I know every bush and fire hydrant as if they were part of my living room. Some days their familiarity is an irritant so ...
