Monthly Archives: November 2017

just another morning conversation, part 72

mo: I can’t find my phone. Can you call it? me, mostly asleep: OK. As it turns out, I”m sitting on it. The phone’s joy buzzer sends me flying 3 feet in the air, and I scream like a little … Continue reading

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the day fiona apple got busted at the texas border checkpoint. a photo essay.

  I got my feet On the ground And I don’t go To sleep to dream — the prophet fiona — Mo always says dreams are supposed to mean something. I’m still trying to figure out last night’s. I’m running … Continue reading

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thank you, new balance

The biggest problem with being slow in a race is kids. Or more specifically, The Kid. In my extensive clinical research, I have found there is something in the kid mentality that results in an endless series of fartleks in … Continue reading

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running with turkeys

Back in the old days, I hated turkey trots because they were just a bunch of people who dressed up in costume to have fun and didn’t particularly care about the race. These days, I love turkey trots because they’re … Continue reading

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the weirdest thing in the history of the world

I got into the car to drive to the track for a short stroll before tomorrow’s race. But that wasn’t The Weirdest Thing In The History Of The World. I was driving home last night from work. Thanksgiving night, pumpkin … Continue reading

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thanks

I’m out on the mad dog course. It’s Thanksgiving Day. My Thanksgiving meal is oatmeal and a banana. Both Mo and I work today, so we watched the Macy parade this morning and went our separate ways. I’m alone for … Continue reading

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ode to cassidy

Blow the horn and tap the tambourine Close the gap of the dark years in between You and me, Cassidy — john perry barlow — The cardio guy wants numbers. I’ll give him numbers. I stop at the store on … Continue reading

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