Going for a run later, think I’m well enough for one but no five miler, probably just 5k and close to house.

Drove Nurse to work after a slow and easy coffee date with her not needing to be in till 09:00.  Everything manifested as I order and write.  If I write it, it happens.  Becomes real.  Succeeds to the material and tangible and engulfing, most loving of ways.

Monday.  Writing for my life but not.  Protecting my peace and Mental Health, what I love and demand be ever-present in my Story.

Me this morning keeping SELF busy and typing, ready to pull back on yoke and be aloft, climbing.  I’m not entertaining anything else, if I can be honest.

One minute before 10:00.  What do I do?  Day is already moving fast.  Mindful of its swiftness and constant heightening in number.  Listening to music and still in a zen send.

Outside, perfect running weather.  Thinking, maybe, try for 4 miles.  5k, I just don’t see myself being happy about it when I’m done.  Like I should have done more, or paced myself better.