like this

I'm insanely exhausted but committing to committing something to written history tonight. So here it is: I'm a demon.

I don't mean that in a bad way, unless you're in a motor vehicle which means that you should probably avoid driving near me. Not that I'll get in your way. Unlike a lot of runners/bikers/drivers/normal humans, I tend to follow traffic rules. I go when the silver-colored walking man tells me to go and I heed to the orange hand. All I'm saying is that cars have not been lucky the last two times I've been taking to the sidewalk. I've witnessed accidents - car-on-car collisions - and I don't like that. It makes me nervous. But I have to shake it off and keep running. That's all there is.

Other unfortunate news: I experienced a positively debilitating cramp during tonight's run. I expected it; I had pasta, an apple, pretzels and a lot of "Neon Worms" for lunch. Those worms were not a good idea. But I couldn't stop. Shortly after reaching the Hynes Convention Center, it felt like someone stuck a knife through me and my pace was immediately cut in half. Fought through it, for the most part. I walked about 10 feet when it became exceptionally excruciating, but soon returned to normal pace. I wish I understood cramps better and how to better cope while running. If you're a cramp master, please enlighten. Otherwise, let's suffer together.

Everything else was great. Sunday's 6-mile featured an assortment of uphills and downhills, Brookline and Jamaica Plain. I saw some of the same runners multiple times and almost ran into this woman because she wasn't watching where she was going. Watch where you're going. I'm not sure what I listened to, but it might've been Radiohead. Definitely finished with Kanye. Tonight was another Girl Talk excursion. The highlight was "Like This," which I bumped while running down Commonwealth Avenue alone in the dark. This girl was rocking out or something. Since I have no shame, I committed to raising the roof with my left arm, while clutching my iPod in my right. The runner's high at the end of that was glorious. Cramp = forgotten.