Would I miss the way a breeze dimples
the butter-colored curtains on Sunday mornings,
or nights gnashed by cicadas and thunderstorms? . . . 
This week has been a journey.
51 miles on the roads.  My last 16 miler.
3 normal runs, an LSD of 16, a perfect tempo & strength workout
Reminding myself that I’m running on tired legs, which is why.
I’m tired.
and I run and I buy more Clif Shots and drink chocolate milk
and rest and run and run some more.
My feet are just a little sore, but my knees:  they are starting to rumble.
As of this morning, I have lost 20 pounds from the Fall.
Because I like to eat.  A lot.  And I think if I run,
well.  I can just eat whatever I want.
So, I counted calories.  And I won.
My car needed a tuneup.
When it was all done, the Tire Store in town called.
and offered to get my car for me to fix my tires.
and we had a big discussion on Monster drinks
and running.  Everyone has a running story.
The owner says i run 5 miles every saturday.and that’s enough for me.
I smile, as I have just run a 7 miler.
Right into his business.
There was some styrofoam that blew onto my driveway.
From my neighbor’s yard.
I was a bad neighbor.  But I was just sick of this.
So I kicked it over to their yard.  Which was stupid.
I could have easily thrown it away.
But.  I was tired.  And, it was a crappy move on my part.
So last night.  The styrofoam was back on my yard.
and i threw it away.
but now we have a lil issue.
And today.  More styrofoam.
And I keep throwing it away.
An old friend came back to the fold of 5 gal pals.  And now, 6.
She came back, and revived me.  And made me remember
whey we were all together.  and she supported me
and now her eyeball all the time. so very sweet.
My sweet Princess, the thousand dollar rescue dog
the dog who outsmarts electric fences, restraints of any type and the police
she was diagnosed with an aggressive cancer this week
and she lays by my bed.  quiet. subdued.
the plastic collar on her head so she cannot tear her stitches.
She’s old, but not too old.
She is tired from the cancer growing in her rectum, along her pelvis.
An orange sized tumor that never showed itself and now.
is taking her away from us.
Maybe a month, maybe more.  But I am broken hearted.
She wants to go out.  and she goes in the back yard.
As if to survey the place.  Make sure the birds stay away.
She stands there.  Looks around.  And comes back in.
And they say I will know.  But how will I know?
She will have to tell me.  Because this.  This is foreign.
The journey is long.
We have lots of snacks. Pillows.
I feed her out of my palm, and she wags her tail.
And this.  This was my week.

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