Last night I went on what I think is my longest run ever. Nine miles. <Reverend Jim from Taxi> That’s a lotta runnin’. </Reverend Jim from Taxi> It felt good. Yes, my legs are a bit rubbery now. But also, yes, I managed to sweat out (hopefully) whatever lingering impurities were in my system from the Pearl Jam weekend. After 90-some-odd minutes of running in the ruthless Florida humidity, I chugged an entire gallon of water and took a very long, very hot shower. I should be tired as hell, but I’m not. My body is certainly angry at me for not being asleep, but my brain is wide awake and screaming. Funny thing, this brain o’ mine. It gets into these long and convoluted arguments with the rest of my body – heart, lungs, muscles, liver, facial hair – and you would think that it would win. It does, after all, have the benefit of being sentient. But for some reason or another, some reason that it just doesn’t understand, it never wins. At least it keeps arguing. Fightin’ the good fight and all that. Poor guy.