Shawn Blankenship, Here I Come.

That's right. I'm getting ready for the Turkey Trot, and Shawn, I've got your number. Okay, well, it may be a little early to start trash-talking, but, hey, I'm finally working myself back into some semblance of acceptable shape. I've gotta take advantage of it. My last several runs have been easy and productive. After all the abuse I have dealt my body lately, I'm surprised of its willingness to lift off the ground and move in a forward direction. But, forward it goes. Tonight, I clipped on my little flashing light, plugged my iPod into my ears, and set out into the waning light to jog for a bit. Clear my mind. Release some tension from spending the day spring-loaded in an uphill battle to extinguish each arising fire. Nights like these are perfect for this kind of freedom. Cool air and quiet streets. Only the thump of my heavy footfalls and the comfort of familiar songs. Headlights arriving with a rush then easing into the distance. Tonight I felt a fine piece of solitude.

...and now I'm one step closer to leaving Shawn in my dust come Thanksgiving. Ha! (I'm just messing with you, Shawn. :) )