The Running Dead

I am tired as hell. My sort of lady woke me at five o’clock this morning to go running. My sort of lady is a morning person. I am not. We ran around the lake. It was dark and the stars were still out. It was cold. The only other person on the path was an old Asian woman wearing a Muumuu and walking her cat. My sort of lady talked through the entire run and in a sleepy haze I only comprehended half of the words that came out of her mouth. After the run I felt great, ate a bowl of oatmeal and watched the end of Mobsters on the digital cable before I showered and got ready for work. The point of this rant: exercise is good for you.

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