There was a concern in my mind, as I contemplated every American metaphor for a road, that I might eventually come to enjoy running. I’ll never be good at it. I might one day be comfortable doing it, though. And that made me uncomfortable. I know how this works. If I come to like it, I’ll want to do more of it. More running.
I realized this about four miles into a five mile run that didn’t hurt at all. I never seemed especially out of breath. It didn’t seem strenuous.
Not sure what metaphor goes with that, though.
I also decided there’s going to be less stuff here on weekends. We’ll all try to maintain our composure, I’m sure.
