Life happens. It being Sunday, I went for a run this morning. A Sunday run is not that unusual, you say … well, except for the fact that I’ve been barely conscious for the better part of a week and a half. The nine klick run through the near-freezing suburban trail system was a mix of joyous relief and pounding pain. Relief, because after ten days in a perscription-induced fog of pain and sleep and blurry half-aware hum, it was wonderful to be back out on the streets feeling the air and the asphalt and the buzz of adrenaline. Pain, because my tooth felt every jolting footstep like an earthquake aftershock, and oh right we had one of those a…

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