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My legs felt like weights the last 4 miles I ran. Yesterday was a run day; I smoked a cigarette. It is cold today, perfect running weather really. Who knows. Last week I put up some impressive mile, 5k, and 4 mile numbers (for this runner). I am reading an incredible book right now dear journal, "Light in August," by Faulkner. Reminds me of driving late at night through Duck Hill Mississippi. There is really nothing about Mississippi that I look fondly at at all. Though, I can see my headlights going forever on a long dark stretch; some random road parallel to I50. Nothing but trees and dust breaking up the beams. There is a hamburger joint north of Duck Hill in Grenada. Late drives consumed by opiates and death. Marching through fires and boredom.