I have successfully and accidentally exorcised (exercised) all but one of my demons-- the trick was simply ignoring them. I'd like to believe there's a path to excellence that doesn't require hordes of demons wailing behind one's tired eyes, but I do feel a little bad about murdering my close companions of the past decade.

It's hard to find an animal with more pride than a rooster. I'd have a ton of pride, too, if I was that handsome.

When injured, the fastest way to get faster is to do nothing. The runner, who has cultivated and calcified the basic faith that more work equals more speed, cannot fathom this and will injure themselves further in the attempt to work through or work out an injury. I believe the solution is meditation, and learning to accept stillness.