After the six-hour drive back from St. Louis I did not feel much like a run. Besides, it would be dark soon. And I ran plenty this weekend. And, and, and, and. Still, I knew I really needed the stress release--to say nothing of the occupied moments at the dimming of the day. So, I forced myself out the door and onto the street.
I made the hours of my drive zip along by listening to Prince Caspian as read by the incomparable Lynn Redgrave. I made the miles of my run zip along by listening to Aimee Mann, Wilco, Springsteen, and Over the Rhine.
In the former case, I got home. In the latter, I got in five miles. In both cases, I was able to do it with a smile--all contrarian circumstances aside.
