Wrapped up work a bit after 3 on Friday. Called the wife, told her I was grabbing the kitchen pass for dinner. Grabbed the keys to a friend’s apartment, told him I’d be back to the office to pick him up for supper around 5, and headed for a run in downtown Newport on the holiday afternoon.

The weather was absolutely perfect – cool and foggy; the last, desperate gasp of winter prior to the regularly scheduled arrival of summer on Memorial day weekend, and the legs were there. Rocked Prince’s new album on the iPod; eagerly anticipated the arrival of Nike integration, and the miles just seemed to slip by.

Admittedly, I haven’t been nearly so good about running regularly during the week as I’d like. Pitiful, even. But, there’s something that’s still clicking, some reason why when given the chance I’m blowing out epic runs. I’d like to be on more of a routine, but if this is what I’m stuck with, this is what I’ll take. Plus, the brain’s in a good spot.

Coming off of the Cliff Walk, I spotted a friend up ahead. Surprised her, and we walked a couple blocks to her stylist’s place. Finished the run blowing back through downtown, feeling sorry for folks who don’t live near the ocean. Running in the fog is about the greatest thing ever.

6.75 miles, 53+ minutes.

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