Is a dirty word; it used to be a painted bird, baby.
No, peace is a wonderful thing. Peace is what I found yesterday. While running, of all things. Cranked out a good 3.5 miles over lunch. Didn’t feel sore. Didn’t feel winded. Didn’t feel nothing but peace.
Saw the folks walking to the galley. I ran.
Saw the cars driving by, windows sealed against the pending rain and fall chill. I ran.
Saw the trees, holding on to green leaves thanks to unseasonable warmth and rain. I ran.
Saw great V’s of geese headed south breaking through the bellies of clouds fat with rain. I ran.
Nothing fancy today. No sprints. No great distance. Nothing but redjazz.com’s podcast.
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