Michael Showalter. But that's another story.
I saw Shiloh.
She and the baby and Andy and Pete all looked good, and it was fun to hang out with them and watch the color programs on their Zenith (do you have to pay for tv in all hospitals, or is that just New York?).
So, running lately has been . . . hard. Running . . . I mean, I could write a treatise on what running gives you, and what it does for you, and how it changes you. I won't (not now at least), but I will say that after years of running, I don't think things ever hurt less. The run itself gets easier, more effortless, but you still feel the same twinges you always did. Sometimes more. You still get one of those side stitches if you have the misfortune of drinking too much water before you start out, and your knee still feels a bit wonky during cool down, though it felt perfectly fine while you were running. What long term running gives you is the ability to know the difference between pain that will be fleeting, and pain that will not. And it makes you more philosophical about the pain that will pass.
So lately, when I begin my run and foot starts feeling squished in my shoe, or I get one of those side stitches, or just after I finish when my knee feels weirdly hyper-extended, or my ankle feels a little twingy, I'm really grateful for the years I've put in, the years that make it possible for me to say, accurately, to myself, quit being a baby.