Better

Had the craziest dreams last night. Dreams where things were made clear, where things were resolved. It was nuts. Clearly my subconscious had a huge backlog to work through and it plugged away all last night. Woke up this morning and was just wasted. Started crying on the way to work. Not because I was upset, but more because I'm worn out and a lot of things were clicking and making sense and everything seemed to be just that overwhelming at 8:13am on this particular Friday morning.
I didn't particularly want to go to tonight's pre-Boston party but I did and I was glad. I know I've espoused it before, but running rocks. I know a lot of people are in it for the PBs and the medals and to continue to go harder and faster, but I'm not. I'm in it for the coffees and the lifestyle and the social aspect. I've never met a more compatible and like-minded and positive group of people as I have through running. I fucking love these people. I love their stories and their enthusiasm and their lives and their generosity and I wouldn't be privy to any of it if I didn't slog through 10 or 15 or 23 miles on any random Sunday. That said? I'm totally looking forward to running with the halfs when the fulls (who are training for the Vancouver marathon which is 2 weeks after Boston) are doing their 23 miler next weekend. I'm going to point and laugh and turn around at the 6 mile mark. I'm kidding. I'll probably wrap it up, grab a coffee and head back to the store to cheer them on as they grind up Keith after having run 22 miles (I know how hard it is: I've done it twice now).
Oh yeah - I've still got the horseshoe! I pulled an illegal u-turn, only to look in my rear view mirror and see a bloody cop was behind me. I waited and waited for the lights to flash and? Nothin'. Suh-weet.
And yes, the Cheerios are still in my trunk.