Just three miles last night. I got home from work and it was cloudy. I dug through all my dirty clothes and found shorts but no shirt. I worried how I would look but by the time I went out it was dark anyway.

I have taken this route a hundred times now: Down capital heights, left on Steele or sometimes Florence street. After about a mile I start forgetting the roads and where I am. It doesn't matter as long I don't stop to think about it. In the past, especially on night runs, I would sometimes kept this creeping feeling of being lost. At a certain point it just becomes rote. I took a run a few months ago in a major downpour. It was amazing. My shoes sloshed through puddles and water just flowed all over me.

I was thankful for the dark because I didn't have to worry so hard about the GPS watch I have been wearing lately. It keeps great track of my movements but it sometimes hinders my thoughtlessness. Meanwhile, a loud patron yells into his phone. He wears an orange General Lee shirt. When not on his phone he tends to say "stop," and "quit," to his kid.