Inspired by the suggestion of my main man (not that there are others), who knows how much I love being outdoors, I opted to try the lake for this particular run. It was a good call – it’s definitely shadier. Plus, two times around is conveniently five miles.

I started off strong, enjoying the sunshine and feeling healthy. However, by mile 1.5, I started to feel the dreaded - cue the horror movie music - Cramp of Dehydration. When you’re running, a cramp is the worst. It can literally bring you to a standstill in seconds. This particular cramp had me slow to a near walk.

I have to say, I would’ve stopped completely to let it pass, but I was determined to finish my run and return home. I thought, if I power through this, I will be home sooner. And I will be eating dinner sooner. That was my motivation – I wish it was more compelling.

So I started running really slowly and focusing on my breathing. I never stopped running though. Sure, I was running slower than molasses – or in my case, perhaps a better analogy would be chocolate pudding if you try to pour it out of its tub without a spoon. But I was running nonetheless. And you know what? The cramp went away. By mile 2.0, I was back on track.

And by mile 5.0, I reached my goal. Granted, I was also ready to throw up. But I managed to walk to my car, book it to the convenient store, stock up on hydrating liquids, and make it home for dinner. It was a good day.

There is a calmness about the morning run, too. It's quiet. Not a lot of cars, not a lot of people. Just me and the road. And of course the neighborhood wildlife that perpetually taunts me, but that's another story. When I'm not being chased, it's a very peaceful time. If I had better hearing (which I don't) and I wasn't blasting Beyonce in my iPod (which I do), I bet I could hear pins drop.

And colors pop in the morning. The sun is usually just rising and, sometimes, it's so vibrant that I have to slow down to make sure I don't miss it. There's also this crazy tree on my route that is currently blooming with bright fuchsia flowers. It's gorgeous in the morning light. The first time I saw it, I wondered how long it had been in bloom before I actually noticed it. I mean, I run by that tree during afternoon runs all the time. In that moment, it became apparent to me that I'm less distracted in the morning. I'm able to notice the beauty around me. Of course, on today's run, I also noticed the dead kitten on the road. But dead kittens are not as inspiring as pretty pink trees.

In any case, I also feel fresher in the morning, even if I don't get enough sleep. I'd say it's both a physical and a mental freshness (clearly not a hygienic freshness - the shower comes later). My body is relaxed and my muscles are loose. And my mind doesn't typically start spinning until - I'd say at least - 7 am.

The morning has become my time. There are only two drawbacks, in all honesty. One is that I get less time in the morning with my favorite guy. And the second is that I seem to crash earlier in the evenings. But, all in all, the morning run gives me such a great boost, I think I'm going to stick with it for a while.

Ever since I started running, about a year ago now, I've been noticing bruises on my inner ankles. Sometimes they are pretty bad. I'll get home after a run, look down at my feet and see streams of blood above my socks. But other times I look down and there's nothing, or perhaps a slightly less scary looking version (i.e., no blood). I've dealt with this phenomenon for some time now, not really focusing on it to be honest. But recently, because I have a big event coming up where my ankles will be in full view and recorded on film for all of eternity, I started to wonder how I might prevent this from happening.

I did some quick research and discovered that "kicking yourself while running" is not altogether uncommon. It more typically will happen to overpronators, which I am. If you're new to the term - and I totally was when I started - "pronation" just means the natural inward roll of your foot when you're walking or running. Your feet do this for you free of charge as a cushioning device (i.e., shock absorption). But "overpronation" is when your feet do it too much. In other words, if you overpronate, your feet will roll inward in excess, toward each other, when you run. This is not good! Most running stores recommend inserts to help stabilize your runs, correct the problem and prevent injury.

I have the inserts and I've avoided most serious injuries, thankfully. But these pesky ankle bruises are getting old. They also get infected (I will avoid the gross details) and hurt like hell when I accidentally bump them. It's my body's own negative reinforcement - I feel like I get tasered into submission every time I kick a sore spot, as if my body's saying, "Just don't kick yourself there and it won't hurt, genius."

So solutions. Applying Neosporin helps with the healing. And during runs, band-aids are good. However, this crazy humidity makes it hard for band-aids to stick, especially to ankles. At the end of the day though, I discovered that the less tired I am, the less frequently I "lose form" and kick myself. Sleep is key.

Man, I could just kick myself for not getting enough sleep. Oh wait, I do. Damn it!

On account of the unrelenting humidity, I've been sticking with my morning routine. It's been surprisingly successful. I've been keeping a decent pace of about a 10-minute mile. Sometimes a little faster, sometimes a little slower. But I'm finding that, even if I don't get enough sleep, I have more energy first thing in the morning. Plus, I'm not gasping for air afterward. So today, I got myself out of bed and was out the door by 5:30 am.

Just about 30 minutes later, around mile three of five, I was rounding the parking lot of an elementary school nearby. All of a sudden, two foxes - I repeat, FOXES - crossed the lot no more than 50 feet in front of me. I came to a dead stop. In fact, all three of us did. It was a battle of wills. I thought, "Holy crap." You can see a graphical representation of this moment below (the x axis is time and y axis is speed).

As you can see, I was running along at a comfortable pace until, bam, the foxes appeared. The point where our speed plummets to zero is the point where our eyes met. I knew I had a limited amount of time to figure out my game plan.

Following the graph to the right, you can now see where I decided to, pretty much, just book it out of there as fast as humanly possible. As I gained momentum, the foxes essentially remained calm and continued their zen-like stroll to the opposite side of the parking lot, where they stared me down and actually took a few steps in my direction as I passed them.

At this point, I was running faster than I have ever run before, as indicated by the spike in speed on the graph. And, much to my surprise, I made the sign of the cross. Who knew all those years of Catholic upbringing made such a dent. I have no idea where that came from, but, in that moment, it was a shockingly natural move.

It wasn't until about a mile later, when I was 100 percent sure I wasn't being followed, that I began to ponder the significance of that move. I let myself remember my grade school days with Sister Mary Joseph and Monsignor Louis, and then my high school days with Brother Lemon. And let's not forget college, my confirmation and that time I wanted to join a convent. Could all of that still be ingrained in me? My mind started to spiral but then I just thought, "Oh, Jesus, Mary and Joseph. I think I need some coffee." Thankfully, uneaten and sweaty, I was home.