Changing Things Up

Over the past four years, I’ve found the hardest part of writing this blog is not the writing itself, but rather deciding what to write about. It’s not for lack of trying. I have a document full of ideas that have come to me throughout the course of writing. Most of them have become fully

Not All Gazelles

Less than one week until the Broad Street Run, and Saturday’s training was pretty dang good for me: 9.03 miles at an 11:50/mile pace, for a total of nearly one hour and 47 minutes of running. No major muscle issues, no cramps or creaks or potential blowouts. No wishing to die, no feeling like it’s

Having Light

7.62 miles, 11:44 pace.  Now that that’s out of the way… It was a great weekend here in Philly. My wife and I both managed a long run on a beautiful if blustery Saturday morning, and Sunday we got our hands dirty and greened up our back balcony. I love planting in the spring. The

A Season for Impatience

First things first: 7.02 miles at a dead 12-minute pace. Not too shabby. Yeah, that’s a pretty slow pace. But that doesn’t mean my running isn’t progressing smoothly. I ran the whole thing, even the long ramp up from the Schuylkill River Trail to South Street. My feet might have been a little sore, but

Four Years and Counting

Holy shit. It’s been four years since I started writing this blog. Can you believe it? And for those of you whose first instinct is to say, “Yes, because I’ve felt every one of those long, painful years,” I’d kindly ask you not to say so out loud. For the rest, thanks for being along

Music and the Songs We Heard

Another week, another long run, all in preparation for that race a few weeks from now. This Sunday, I lit out in the early afternoon for a “brisk” 5.5 miles through University City and along the Schuylkill River. Five and a half miles is still a far cry from ten, but I did manage to

Hurting is Healthy…Right?

Ouch. I’m in training for another race. This time, it’s Philadelphia’s Broad Street Run, which takes participants along a brisk 10-mile course from the Logan neighborhood of North Philly all the way south to the Navy Yard on the banks of the Delaware. There are no turns: this race is literally along one of the

Mud on Our Hands

Well, it’s that time of year again, and of course I mean Daylight Savings Time. I think by now my feelings on the time change have been well established, but just in case you’ve forgotten, I love DST. I love having an extra hour of daylight in the evening, even if it comes at the expense of

Touring the Trauma

Well, I’ve been down in Florida for the past two weeks. This trip was longer than my more recent visits for a couple reasons, but the most pressing one is that I was trying to get the roof on mom’s house replaced. Considering it withstood two direct hurricane hits, most recently Hurricane Ian in 2022,

The Answer Is 42

Well, it’s here. This week, I attain the magical age of 42, which according to scriptures means I’ll finally have the answer to life, the universe, and everything. The problem, of course, is that no one knows what the question is. I guess that comes later, because I have no fucking clue. What I do