Notes
Everything seemed to conspire against a run this morning. I got up late, my clothes were in the basement, I needed a bandaid on my toe, I couldn't find the moleskin, the dog took too long with his potty needs. Nonetheless, I went through all the motions, started the timer, went out the door, ran a dozen yards, and turned around and went back to bed. Maybe the trouble was in my head; anyway, this was an abortion.