I Ran 63 Miles in 8 Days and Boy, Does My Brain Hurt
Most of us are familiar with the idea that the human brain is composed of left and right hemispheres, with the former acting as the center of reasoning and logic while the latter is responsible for creativity and non-verbal thought. Sometimes, though, I'm convinced that my own gray matter (perhaps as a result of suspect genetics or a pronounced childhood clumsiness that left me with repeated knocks on the head) is instead divided into one side devoted completely to obsessive behavior, and an opposing lobe ostensibly dedicated to basic self-preservation but more typically given to making me feel guilty when I don't capitulate to the first one. Joining these two halves, of course, is an ineffective and short-circuited corpus callosum, which gamely attempts to negotiate some form of neurological detente between the warring factions before typically caving in and conceding advantage to the obsessive side. But from time to time self-preservation actually wins, and the almost irrepressible urge to engage in things like, say, running every street in Brooklyn is quieted, at least for a day.
Hopefully, I'll feel my usual energetic self tomorrow, and will be ready to head out and get in an quick eight or nine miles. But I'll take it easy today -- physically, at least. Because among all my ongoing intra-cranial skirmishes, perhaps the biggest winner this time around is that little cluster of neurons buried deep within my head that impels me to work on my dissertation, and so that's what I'm going to do today. And with an extra couple of hours now, maybe I'll actually make some progress. We'll see.
For your enjoyment, here are some photographic leftovers from those 63 miles:
Top of the old Loew's Pitkin Theater in Brownsville
House on E. 18th Street in Sheepshead Bay