Well, I didn't run. That would've defeated the purpose and been against the point. METAPHORICALLY. There.
I went on a morning walk, my Big-Ass Sandwiches hoodie on, to the park a few blocks from the house. Nice place to walk. No one was there, then a few people were there but there is plenty of room if anyone there wanted to be alone. I had space, plus time and the mood to wander. I said "good morning" or "hi" to people, often with dogs, who passed by, as you do, and thought (in this case, I was thinking about the film that Alejandro Jodorowsky almost got to make of Dune, because I often think of stuff like that, plus other Dune-related stuff, because that book is fascinating). Then I looked down and saw a worm on the paved path.
How long has it been since I've looked at a worm? I mean really looked at it? Out of a feeling of Oh why the heck not?, I stayed put and watched the worm do its stretch-and-move thing, over and over, articulating itself across the asphalt. I stood over it so that anyone who passed me would steer clear of me and, thus, the worm. Even talked to one guy who stopped to look at the worm, too. (Had I been standing there looking at nothing, would the guy have said anything to me? Heh.) And I stayed, for a while, feeling like I'd accomplished a little job. The worm started crawling at an angle away from the grass, though, and eventually I moved on. Plus, it was close enough to the grass to be reasonably sheltered from anyone passing. Wasn't like I was going to pick it up and move it to the grass: if it wanted to go there, it could.
Oh, no, this entry wasn't exciting. Not even to the worm. But I don't care. Neither does the worm.