I saw a shooting star this morning on the AM run. I drug myself out of bed and hit the dark cold streets at 5:15am. This was my first true 'back to dark' run. The star shot out of the western horizon, burned brightly for what seemed forever over Foster park, then went out like a light. I never see shooting stars when I'm looking for them, only by accident.
There was not a soul at the park. It was all mine. I spent some time running through the city too - and that was occupied by others. I ran down Rudisill for a while and there was what appeared to be a woman walking west on the north side of the street in a full drunk, cursing the homes at the top of her vocal ability. I chose to run on the other side of the street, quickly, thankful for my top-to-bottom attire of ninja black running wear. I don't even think she noticed me. Fleetingly I thought of stopping and asking if I could help her talk it out. At least to maybe tone it down a notch. But I just ran on into the night. Everyone has problems, some people just walk around the streets in the early morning proclaiming it to the world.
The run was mostly horrible, performance wise. I had a slight cramp walking at work today. Yesterday I hit the Y on the way home and knocked out a 2,000 yard swim. Uneventful. After that last night I lifted weights in the basement. Monday I was home sick of all things with a fever. I literally stayed in my bed, and slept all day long, and all night Monday. Weird huh. Talk about weird - I think I may have been slightly delusional from the fever. At one point my stomach was gurgling, gurgling with every breath, and it sounded like words - broken speach, very guttural: "How you doing", "How you doing", "How you doing"... with every breath! Now that's a fever! Blogging the truth of one's life is not an easy task.
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