Weird morning all around. For one thing, I got a good night's sleep, which is rare. Felt good, went out to meet the group -- but when I start running, my right fifth metatarsal is quite painful. Nice. Is this a stress fracture? Well, didn't hurt at all standing or walking, doesn't seem to be getting any worse, so I'll keep going. Wind is blowing 25+; got one gust between two tall buildings downtown that darn near took my legs out from under me. Seconds earlier, a guy running near me tripped on the trolley track and DID fall down. Finally, about the two-mile mark, the foot quit hurting. Run's going pretty well at this point, although the temperature seems to be falling (I dressed for mid-40s, not expecting it to fall further) and the wind is not letting up. Then I get back into downtown LR at the five-mile mark and my cellphone beeps. I'm on call, like I am every other weekend, but I have never once gotten called during my Saturday morning run. Until today. Medical exchange gives me a message to call a patient who was in clinic yesterday and wasn't doing very well. I cut off my run, head directly back to my car (fortunately not too far away) and call her. She's not doing well now either, and wants to come in to get her implanted pain pump adjusted. But she lives an hour away. I tell her to come in and meet me at the office. Then I go home, shower, get dressed, and go to the office to open up and get ready for her. We got the pump adjusted, I gave her a prescription for nausea, and then I'm able to proceed with my Valentine's weekend plans. But my planned 8-mile run (already abbreviated because of those weekend plans) got cut to 6. Oh well. I may run 15 or so tomorrow morning from my hotel, or I may take the day off and let that foot rest. | 