When the vicissitudes of life intrude on the best laid plans of mice and men (as is wont to be the case on an almost daily basis) I have found that I can either fret, fume, and fulminate or I can run.
Today, laboring under a great weight, I chose to run. Twice. Nine miles total.
The running doesn't alter the circumstances of our sundry adversities. But, it does alter us. It does alter me. And it has altered me.
I'm better now. At least, I think so. Until tomorrow.