They say that lacing up your shoes for a morning run is the hardest part. I don’t who “they” are, but they must not wear shoes very often. The hardest part of running is the running. And selecting a playlist of tired music that somehow might sustain you on that one hill. And keeping your gut sucked in when a couple of moms you know appear beside you and want you to tell vacation stories while you’re huffing and puffing. And inventing fresh new insults to hurl at yourself for having fallen out of this routine. “There are people who don’t *have* legs who would kill to do this, you fizzy-water-sipping, bracelet-owning, Cat-Power-listening linen wearer!”