NASHVILLE—I walked four miles on Old Center Point Road this morning in 1:03:43. When I do Old Center Point Road, I turn right from the driveway of mother's house onto Sunset, go about fifty yards, turn left on Fourth, go a little less than a half a mile primarily through an old and poor section of town, then turn left on Old Center Point, which veers to the right around the high school and Scrapper Stadium and winds for about five miles past shit loads of large cow pastures and a few wooded areas. There are lots of big friendly dogs and squirrels, a handful of rabbits, and occasionally deer. Old Center Point eventually turns to dirt, until it ends on the outskirts of the town of Center Point on the modern highway (Center Point has a restaurant built into the back of a general store that makes as good a BLT as I've eaten, served on buttered Texas Toast and with right-out-of-the-grease French fries).
OVERHEARD
"If I was built like Carmilo [Villegas], I would never wear a shirt. I would just have 'Srixon' tattooed on my chest."
—Graeme McDowell
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