Writer on the Run XVII

Five miles was likely too far to be walking days before I run but Cleo was so full of energy I didn't want to cut her short. I laid back in bed wishing I didn't make plans for the evening but it's difficult to stay away from Manhattan when you can easily hear and smell it from across the Hudson River. Cleo was staring at me from around the door so I invited her up for some pets and belly rubs. I thought about Django, praying she would feel better soon and hoping beyond hope that she would fully recover without invasive surgery.

I finally crawled out of bed and started to get ready to head over to the Rum House for a drink with some friends; at least it's super close to the bus and getting back home. I'm only staying for one drink and to chat and take in the music, I would never recover in time to run the marathon if it was anymore than that. I transferred my things from my purse to my clutch, grabbed some loose cash and headed for the door...I hope to be walking back through it in under three hours...but that seemed a little optimistic...