“There’s no place like home. I used to think Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz had the right idea. Click my heels three times and everything would be perfect. Right? Wrong! This isn’t Kansas and this definitely isn’t my home.” —Tumblr.com It’s early Saturday morning and I head out first thing. It rained late last night, so the air smells really good, all fresh and clean. The clouds are still heavy, like it’s about to rain again. I could skip it and stay in today, but I’ve been waiting for this all week. It’s relaxing, it’s invigorating and it’s freedom. Terrence turned me on to it and now I love it. It’s like a drug, but you don’t pay for it and you don’t get high or anything. You get exhausted and you think. My music plays, but the sound of my breathing and my heartbeat is really what keeps me going. My feet pound the hard pavement, and I don’t see anybody or anything. There’s no destination, only the run in progress. So, I keep running. So many things go through my head as I run.
