“The next morning, my head and every muscle in my body hurt as if I'd run a marathon through six feet of snow in stilettos.”

“I used to know things no one knew,Things no one cared to know.Of bare feet running through the dew,The taste of every snow.”

“When you die, every single muscle in your body hurts. Your body has closed down because it thinks it's done, and when it gets rebooted, every inch of you hurts. Plus I'd had the shit beaten out of me with a baseball bat.”

“Jules and I smiled a lot. So much, that I found my cheeks actually hurt when I finally rested my head at the end of the day. I would rub the muscles in them, readying them for their inevitable workout the next day.”

“Running is many things to me: survival, calmness, euphoria, solitude. It is proof of my corporeal existence, my ability to control my movement through space if not time, and the obedience, however temporary, of my body to my will. As I run I displace air, and things come and go around me, and the path moves like a filmstrip beneath my feet.”

“Every part of my body felt electric. My chest ached and my head throbbed with the great terrible limitless possibility of the morning, and when it came, the sky was washed white, everything was new, and I hadn't slept at all.”