Just call me Curt

Today's run was far better than Saturday's run.  I planned to run 3 miles.  I successfully ran 3 miles.  My time was not hideous (not great, but not hideous).  It didn't rain.  I made it all the way to the next village over and saw a Maypole in the distance.  What more could I ask for?

Maybe one little thing.  When I flew over, I got a slight sore on my foot because I didn't wear socks on the plane.  That is your lesson for today: wear socks on the plane.  It's been an annoying sore because it doesn't seem to want to go away (that and I figured out I was out of bandages on Sunday and pretty much everything is closed on Sundays).  Today, I looked down at around 2.7M of the run and realized that I had blood all over my sock.  Like Curt Schilling in Game 6 of the 2004 ALCS.  Okay, not really, because it didn't hurt at all.  It is a really persistent, yet tiny, cut.

Today, we get bandages.