Tuesday morning, I woke up at 5:30 a.m. and went for an early morning run. 4 miles on my Fairfax-Blakemore route. I felt good on the run, better than I have lately, which made me feel good. Plus, it's always great to get in a morning run. Metaphorically, it's like getting a B-12 shot, or at least, what I imagine it feels like after you get a B-12 shot.
The day is a bit brighter. The colors outside as I cool down while walking back to the house are a little more vivid. As I go about my morning routine at home, I'm in a better mood. Unlike most mornings, I'm wide awake as I begin the day. Pretty good stuff.
Then, last night (Wednesday), I went for a run after Jude and I got the boys in bed. 3 miles at under an 8:30 pace. Most importantly, I felt strong and wasn't particularly winded. Damn, it felt good. Like old times, even. I walked down 12th Avenue to cool down, listening to a podcast (Joe House's "Shackhouse") on a beautiful early March night.
It's coming back. The wall. I'm rebuilding it.
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