I did a mile on Cherritussin AC, loaded with codeine, at night sans Petzel. The moon was full upon the silvery neighborhood, a hot night, quiet. My footfalls like a metronome, occasionally passing a streetlight spilling amber and white salts on the contours of the trees and jellybean cars. Lightning bugs traced close, checking my airspace. Sweatin’ midnight.

My cough was gone, dead. I was in love with the Morton Salt girl, spilling dirty sleep all over me like a good fairy should. Slept like a billion.

Juneathon 2014 monthly miles: One more than yesterday.