I ate my sandwich from home while poking aimlessly around my files and the internet trying to understand what exactly it was that I thought I’d write about next. I remember having a plan. I remember having a masters thesis. I remember thinking I’d write up something from that. Or about A Nation At Risk. I don’t remember. It’s like my brain stopped working, or it only wants to work on questions related to fueling and hydration for long runs. Came up empty. The cheese in the sandwich was brie. I felt glamorous in my office, like my office was in France.

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