What Goes On

So.

I’m sitting out on the deck, on what should be a windy, freezing and snowy day here in New England.

Yep, you read that right – I’m sitting out on my deck.

In shorts.

Quite literally steaming after finishing a PH-E-NOMENAL nighttime run.

It’s high fifties and humid, one of those trademark foggy New England nights. I’m halfway expecting some crusty old fisherman-looking guy to come around to the back and offer me a cup of chowda. (Yes, in my mind, there’s itinerant chowder vendors)

I skipped running Tuesday ’cause I couldn’t sleep Monday night. Which is probably the absolute worst. What brought it on, I bet, was a Science Friday podcast about a family with a prion disease where, at age 50 or so, they literally stayed awake until they died. So, I felt like crap all day.

Then today, work was a zoo. A good zoo, like with cool animals, not one where there’s just a bunch of unglutates pooping, but one with monkeys and stuff – great news about my project, plus another new challenge to take on, an amazing lunch with some friends, AND a great session with my mentor. But a zoo, nonetheless.

Then hurrying home for Cub Scouts. Not a lot to be said for it – we’re doing a lot of inside stuff, but I don’t want to step up and take responsibility for the den right now, so I’m not really in a place to speak. But it was good enough.

Got the boys in bed, and realized that part of my sleep problems were probably lack of exercise in the last couple of days. So, strapped ’em on, strapped on the reflectors and the blinky light, grabbed the iPod, and hit the road.

And – Wow. Stuff just clicked. The running was good, the weather was just right, and the release was exactly what I needed. The first half just zipped by, and I decided to stretch the 3 I intended to between 4 and 5, and do a loop instead of an out-n-back (eeeew, out-n-backs…)

The kicker, though, was Shuffle. At about the 2/3rds point, the Velvet Underground’s “What Goes On” from their 1969 live album came on. If you haven’t heard it, let me know and we’ll see if we can work something out.

Let it be good, do what you should, you know it’ll be all right…

There’s a killer hill just as you come up from the interstate to our subdivision. Warren can vouch for it (Hi, Warren!). And heading up that hill, Lou and the band were at the point in the song where they’re just completely riffing off each other, building and building and building… Wow.

Anyway, the endorphins are still bumping around, but I’m starting to get a bit chilly in the fingertips and nose, and the steam’s stopped coming off my shirt (Cotton, for what it’s worth). Time to shower and curl up with Foucault’s Pendulum and my lovely wife.

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