Destined for Obscurity

Out of maybe 100 runs there emerges one memorable run. Well, this morning's was one of the other ninety-nine. Did a Sweetbriar Loop for eight miles. Running was good when the wind was at my back, not-so-good when it was in my face. The garbage train returned to park alongside the Schuylkill bike path, and Ryan Adams' Gold was on my iPod for the umpteenth time in the last month. The sun was out and the spring was blooming.

Not a bad run, just one that, after being dutifully summarized here, is surely destined to join the thousands of runs whose details are forgotten and have blurred together and presumably accumulated into one primal running memory submerged somewhere in the unconscious.

8 miles in 64:06.