Kathy was in no shape to head out to Baltimore yet, so she was dealing with the shit in her head by running. Not jogging, not brisk walking, running. For as long as she possibly could until her body couldn't handle it. It wasn't as good a way to shut her brain up as some other pastimes, but it was the one she had right now.

Was it good luck or bad luck that the cramp hit just as she was a few yards from Ringo? Or something else at play? Who knew?