Most any day I want, I can go for a run.  Running clothes are always waiting in my closet, or more likely, in the pile of clean laundry hoping for the honor of the closet but knowing from experience it’s unlikely.  There are always running shoes in the mud room, and when they wear thin, I simply purchase a new pair.  Water isn’t a problem, either.  I take some with me, get a free cup at a fast food joint, or stop at a drinking fountain along my route.  I don’t worry about getting shot, mugged, or bombed on a run, and with the exception of a few minor and temporary twinges, I haven’t been laid up by any injuries.  I hope I haven’t…