First run outside just moments ago and my calves are melting off my bones. After 1.79 miles I sat on a park bench by the Hudson River, sweating so much that pigeons were bathing themselves in my drippings. I was gasping air, my lungs blooming like zeppelins on fire.

Every time a jogger passed going the other way I closed my eyes and enjoyed the breeze generated by their body rushing. The water was beside me, the lights from Jersey glinting off it in streaks. I think. I wasn't wearing my glasses, so I wouldn't honor any scouts.

I passed four lovers' spats and several dancers doing their thing on the riverwalk for tips. Runners passed me. I passed runners. I didn't bring water, so the river called to me for most of the run.

Now I'm going to shower, sit next to the artificial breeze of the window unit, and watch the rest of the Celtics game with my woman. She's also recovering from a run, but hers was 7 miles long. Our tiny apartment smells like Tiger Balm and sweat.

Shoes off. Fuck yes.