There are these little patterns that develop after running enough miles. Maybe patterns is the wrong word. More like instances of repetition. Today two of those happened. First another dead rabbit and second a pit stop at a bathroom.
The dead rabbit was right I. The middle of the sidewalk. A pretty traumatic death by all accounts. If it was, as I suspect, hit by a car that means it would have been tossed at least 8 feet fro. The road to the sidewalk. I moved it off the sidewalk onto a long grassy space that didn't look like it was kept up.
The, a pit stop at 7-Eleven. Not Happy Liquor this time. I could have made it home without issue. There wasnt the same desperation as last time, but lightning the load did help make the rest of the run more comfortable. This time thankfully the place stocked toilet paper. It will certainly be the the descrepency between elapsed and moving times.
Either one of these instances would have been unique unto themselves, but I found it interesting that both happened on the same run. Perhaps running isn't as boring as it is made out to be and it just takes a little more sense of observations to note the small pulses and rhythms that make it run into a little story.
Oh and things are so much more tolerable when it is even a little lighter outside or the dawn can be seen on the horizon.