Night Rider

After my third go round with yoga at Coolidge Corner (this time, a beginner class) aka find what is misaligned in my body, I felt re-invigorated what with the steal of the century that was going on at the New Balance Factory close by plus a family and friends discount (thanks Channel).

70 bucks no lie: minimus's, two pairs of shorts (making it an even 5--how I only had 3 pairs before...), and 3 pairs of performance socks.

So invigorated that I snoozed until 5pm and ran at 6pm breaking in that gray pair with a utilitarian zipper pocket for my T pass (just in case) , credit card, and keys.  My friends, I can tell you with no lie that night running in Boston is amazing.  The sheer lunacy of it being a "cold" 50 degrees, the understanding nod you have with a fellow passing runner, a sliver of the moon hitting the Charles with the skyline and Citgo sign animated, changing leaves appearing out of the darkness thanks to purposefully put in lights and Phantogram's music starting up, all to the tunes of my playlist of 5 years of running...all in one run-on sentence.

And for those of you that have enough of this earthy-crunchy granola post, in honor of me not having cable and a certain show about the dead meandering about, I swear all Bostonians walk with a glowing block in their hands, walking like the dead, and don't look up as a 6 foot tall man comes running towards you. I'm sure I have been guilty of this too but come on.