in an easy 20:14, with splits of 10:35 and 9:39. I ran without socks so that my too-small shoes would fit a bit better. It was, I think, the first time I have run without socks since my eighth-grade track season in 1973, when gas cost 30¢, DWI tickets did not affect insurance rates or community posture and cost $95, and no one south of the Mason-Dixon Line had ever heard of a blow job. We all believed the baby Jesus story, too.
I'm sure my Chinese tennis shoes will stink like Chinese tennis shoes tomorrow.
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