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.