I set off at dawn, a cool mist in the air, and by the halfway point of my run I was a good 15 seconds better than my personal best of the year. My course loops through a park, at the far side of which are some posh houses. Two dogs came bounding toward me, one small, the other large. I stopped. The little dog leapt at my knees and the big dog nosed my groin. “Be good, be good,” I heard. It was a woman calling, presumably to her dogs. They turned and raced to her, but a moment later they came back to me, the little one prancing, the big one alert in a sleepy sort of way. “They’re good now,” the woman said. “Don’t worry.” I noticed she was wearing a loose-fitting kimono sort of shirt, and it wasn’t buttoned. “Do you live in the neighborhood?” she asked.