I can hear garbage men cleaning up from the bars on my block...

Celeste is a rock star. That's all there is to be said. While she worked her ass off this week, I wasn't able to get nearly as much time in running as I would have liked to (due to a number of circumstances, some good, some not so good). 

Runners say that the road is the great equalizer. We'll soon find out. It's 6:44 a.m. The sun is slowly rising over Manhattan, and I'm about to race the NYRR Fred Lebow 5 Miler (my second race ever). Game on. 

Sing us out, P.S. 22 Chorus.