I pressed the glow button on my watch. I had been running for thirty minutes. At some random point, beyond a bend in the road, I turned around and headed back. I hadn't been pacing myself very well, so I slowed as I passed a sprawling ranch house. From behind the four-foot tall chain-link fence, I heard a growl and glimpsed a dark shape charging from the porch. That's when I got my second wind. Without even looking back, I ran as hard as I could. I heard the dog trailing me and it must have stopped just short of the fence, the barking growing fainter with every stride. I continued the full sprint all the way to the stoplight, engaging in inadvertent interval training. My legs began to burn halfway there, but I kept pushing, imagining a finish line at the intersection. I turned abruptly at the light and slowed as I again approached the overpass. Tired and sweaty, I planned to trudge up the incline, but the bridge taunted me, told me I wasn't strong enough to run it. So I ran it, chanting to myself, "To the top, to the top, to the top top top." When I reached the top, I stopped, put both hands on the rail and stretched. Traffic on Highway 101 passed beneath my feet. I'm not sure how long I stood there, lost in my thoughts, but eventually, I made it home and took a long shower. I read a few online journals, posted an entry of my own and then hit the sack.