Written September 15, 2025
Hello Dear Readers,
This morning, I decided to ignore my usual “cold-weather running schedule” and hit the road first thing. Why? Because thanks to my brain stroke, my autonomic nervous system is about as reliable as Nashville weather—completely indecisive. I have to change my running times seasonally: summer evenings, winter mornings. Today, I gambled with the cooler air.
Of course, fuel was required. Sadly, I was out of my trusty pastry bites, so I settled for one of my homemade bite-sized cookies. Sure, vegetables would’ve been the “healthier carb choice,” but when you’re staring down 5k with zero fuel, kale isn’t going to cut it. My wife won’t touch cookies before noon—she’s convinced sugar is a morning villain—but I like my cookies tiny enough that even my calorie counter barely blinks.
After the run, I realized lawn mowing season is officially over (victory dance). But before I get too cozy, the trees in our front yard have declared war—sending down waves of crunchy leaves that need collecting before they stage a full-on rebellion. Tomorrow, leaf duty begins.
Meanwhile, our kitten has been inhaling food like she’s training for an eating contest. Four servings down before lunch, and she still looks at me like Oliver Twist asking for more. At least she balances it out with exercise—her version of “cardio” is chasing a toy mouse across the living room like a furry missile.
So: no mowing, yes to leaf wrangling, cookies for fuel, and a kitten with bottomless-pit energy. Autumn in Nashville may be confused, but my day certainly isn’t.