I have been sick for almost a solid month, with only a teeny window of wellness timed fortuitously during my Aunt Jane’s recent visit; on her last day with me I felt something insinuating itself into an otherwise good time and sure enough I had a taken on a new and improved upper respiratory bug that knocked the wind out of my sails and left me almost completely without a voice. Unfortunately I’ve had to table my daily runs to give myself a chance to heal, which means Clarence has suffered right along with me. He has been coming out of his skin for lack of exercise. This week however, I have felt well enough to lace up my running shoes and jump back in the game, if a little gingerly. A year ago I was running about thirty-five miles a week: those distant memories are excellent motivation for me now. And Handsome Chef Boyfriend’s talk of spring training for the races he likes to run during the warm weather months has inspired me still more. I will be a runner so long as my old lady ballerina legs allow it; nothing quite like it for clearing the head and jump starting the day.