A candle at both ends? Talk about the weight of two rods. I feel the creak in the waning hours. The pinch in the back. The spring that will not step. I dread bounds. Short walks feel like an exodus. The return to more activities like a treacherous climb. I straddle edges and won’t look down. I crawl along these inches while I dream of running miles. For the moment, I will stick to trying to feel my airborne heels.