and trying to go back into some form or dive of sleep but unable I just stood up straight from the couch—No, I’m not in any trouble with wife, but there from Ms. Emma last night just before I arrived home getting sick in her bed then needing a bath, and demanding she sleep on my side.  So, downstairs.  I woke, standing, hopped into my running shapes and riles, shoes and other, and left.  Driving up San Miguel in the dark, thinking about IF I could hit ten miles with the time I had, I told self that there is no choice.  You will do it. You will reach ten miles in this first run since the attempted marathon in the headlands.  I did, much quicker and with more ease than I thought.  Yes, I feel the run a bit right now sitting in this very chic and shiny chair in the café, an actual café no Starbucks, but I’m not exhausted, or really even tired.  Maybe it’s the latte still working, but I’m not so sure.  This morning is different.  Or not.  But I did surprise myself with the ease of wake and the run on belt.  Yes, I what I believe adequately situated in running character last night with the water consumption on campus and a bit at home, no wine and light dinner, early bed, but I’m a different Mike Madigan here.  In this new writing spot on Sebastopol Road.  Don’t have to be at work for over 90 minutes.  I stay here and work, create, let thought compound and make rounds in each point of consciousness it can.

Hitting 10 miles, actually I think 10.1, instructed me on me.  What I can do, that even close to 40 I can surprise myself.  And not just surprise self, but instruct self, rebuild self if needed, speak new senses and knowledges of self.