Late Thursday --
Running along the edge of water, making a turn toward the long thin bridge, feeling the whisk of rush of cooler air, a tiny cool front I get to transverse while the unbelievable (to a landlocked psyche) flatness surrounds me. This.
Then I make a dumb move, look lost in front of the hundreds of synchronized marching band, flag brigade, marionettes practicing. Don't worry, I'm sure they have better things to think about than your klutzy jog past them. Then I recall that I'm wearing a GT shirt at the worst possible time.