poor places

My mind's been stuck in Wyoming for the past three days- reliving 2004. Things I remember about Laramie: graphic billboards displaying the horrors of meth addiction, the outspoken lawyer, crying in public, my first experience of altitude sickness (running is difficult when you're a visitor from sea level), seeing Grant through plexiglas... The worst part was the oscillation between fear and anger that results in nausea and exhaustion.
The scenery may change, but that gut-full-o'-dread is exactly the same.

In preparation for the big 3-0 (8 months away and I'm already dreading it), I'm committing myself to an ultra relay- 200 miles, 6 people x 6 legs. I've been needing a new goal, so this showed up at the perfect time. I figure if I put it in blog, I'm more likely to follow through.

My jaw's been broken
My heart is wrapped in ice
My fangs have been pulled
and i really want to see you tonight

And it makes no difference to me
how they cried all over overseas
It's hot in the poor places tonight
I'm not going outside
-Wilco