I feel proud of my friend Lillian who ran a marathon on Sunday. I'm proud of her for running the damn thing, of course (and all the attendant training, resisting of resistance, overall rockstar-ness required to do so) and I'm envious of this passage on her blog - such an excellent description of a feeling I've had but never thought to put into words (and I doubt I could have done it this elegantly):

Sunday was what anyone getting up at 6:30am on a Sunday would expect. Dark, raw feeling, all dewy & calm, the way cities can be when they're off the clock.