You know, Martin. I used to think I owned (or I should rather said, I felt I belonged, or felt safe) a city when I was able to go for a run at night.

In Buenos Aires, I used to run at night frequently. In Los Angeles I did it too, but it was a different feeling. I was sort of full of longing and I would imagine I was running the Marathon of Buenos Aires, so it would be arguably to say I was running in Los Angeles when my imagination was in Buenos Aires. Plus, in reality I used to live in Burbank, where the studios are, which is way different than Downtown LA.

Here in Albuquerque, sometimes I ran at night, but it is through a bike path by a wealthy neighborhood where the most dedicated runners run very early in the morning or when insomnia doesn't let them sleep, very late at night.

But yes, once when I was running on my old neighborhood, this idiotic police car, decided to point his bright white light at me, as if I would be the star in some stage, while I was running, seemingly for fun.

One of this days I will summon the courage to go to the South and go for a run.

Thank you for running. I'm sorry, writing.

Pablo