Here's what I want for an early Christmas present: The Cal Ripken Jr. batting DVD, so I can make an American or National League roster and obviously enhance my chance of winning Beat the Streak, but more assuredly to gain free access to a sports psychologist and therefore perhaps eliminate whatever the stress or anxiety disorder is that keeps me from sleeping the night before goddamn 5Ks.
I slept for 15 minutes last night. From roughly 4:15-4:30 a.m., I dreamt former neighbor John Lucas and current neighbor Tom Jennings were on my front porch, with several of their friends, playing with my cats and trying to get me to join them as they smoked marijuana. The rest of the time I read the last 100 pages of Haruki Murakami's Norwegian Wood, and the first 100 of Richard Russo's Straight Man. Then I got up, drove to the Heights, and followed in the wake of an armada of Kenyans, Leah Thorvilson, high school girls, and an assortment of skinny people twice my age to the finish of the Firecracker Fast 5K in 24:21, with mile splits of 7:52, 7:39, and 8:05.
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