Welcome to the Monkey House

November 24, 2019

I wandered deep into Topanga on Saturday and emerged, at days end, a different person.…

Black Smoke. White Smoke.

November 18, 2019

Two key questions: are the Santa Ana’s blowing and what color is the smoke? If…

Fret Not

November 3, 2019

Was at an orchestra concert the other day watching my favorite cellist and noticed that…

Thirteen

October 24, 2019

Backpack half zipped on the kitchen table,Beat up paperback Fahrenheit 451 in the side pocket,Simpsons…

Deadicated 6.16.18

June 25, 2018

FADE IN Citi Field.  General Admission. Three rows back from the stage. The crowd dances,…

Divine Intervention

June 20, 2018

So here I am driving down the road, reeling from an earlier conversation, trying to…

Luggage or leverage?

June 3, 2018

One step back…WTF? These freaking voices in my head… So, the other day, I am…

Year of the Rabbit

May 1, 2018

"What year?" Vince asks. "1963." I say with a certain amount of pride. "Huh, year…

Oh, my…

April 15, 2018

Went to Supercuts on Saturday: to the usual one over on 18th and Wilshire.  All…

Learning to fly

March 18, 2018

  Took flight again today at Pranayama Breathe Class on a Sunday afternoon. I visited…

Squeak!

February 24, 2018

Squeak. Step. Squeak. Step. Squeak. Pause. Stop. Pause. Step. Squeak. Humph… My favorite shoes are…

#leftearrightear

February 14, 2018

  FADE IN. EXT: DAD comes into focus, a big guy, burley, mid-thirties, Oklahoma t-shirt,…

Have and Have Nots

February 6, 2018

I am struggling a bit.   A few days ago I woke up pre-dawn, made a…

I don’t know, it just

January 15, 2018

drives me crazy that people don’t really greet each other anymore. I’m not sure why…

Turn the tables

August 31, 2017

I have a coach that helps me navigate the training regime for all of these…

385 in dog years…

August 6, 2017

I am getting old. I’m almost 385 in dog years. Humph… The other day I…

And he lives in Nashville. Went there recently to reconnect and discovered a whole new…

Owling

July 24, 2017

Went owling with Vince the other night. We have a big tree in the backyard…

Coco and Adele

July 23, 2017

One afternoon in the Marais (how cool is that for an opening line?) Teri and…

Merci Madame Killelay

July 19, 2017

One of my favorite teachers, Madame Killlelay, taught high school French. I think she tops…

Nice is nice (PG13)

July 13, 2017

Was a hot day in Nice. I had some down time before the flight back…

Comrades in arms…

July 10, 2017

And legs. And mind, body and spirit. Just whisper “Kowies, Fields, Bothas, Inchanga or Polly…

Triple death by…

July 7, 2017

Seriously? It’s Saturday morning. I mean what kind of message is that suppose to send…

Wump-Wump-Wump

July 6, 2017

Thursday afternoon Dad via text: “send a pic people here want to see” Dad’s internal…

La Decima

July 5, 2017

He’s a god, a modern day god, like Zeus with a tennis racket. And we…

Right foot forward: “Tear down the wall.”  Actually, it is not really at mile twenty but somewhere in the nether land that sits between twenty and say twenty five or so.  You know it when it happens.  That point when it starts to hurt.  I mean really hurt.  Not the dull aches and pains of a nice easy training run, oh no, no, no, none of that here.  This is when it HURTS.  First thoughts turn to the shoes.

Left foot forward: “Tear down the wall.”  It must be the shoes, I mean what the fuck, I have been in them for hundreds of miles and now they suddenly decide to break down on me?  Then again it could be the socks.  Why am I wearing socks anyway?  I hate socks.  Real runners don’t wear socks.  If I could just sit down for a few minutes I can take them off and everything will be fine.  

Right foot forward: “Tear down the wall.”  Who is going to know?  A fat guy passes me.  Unbelievable, my world is crumbling before my eyes. My shins hurt.  No, wait a second it is my knee, my right knee, just above the shin and below the cap.  This is SERIOUS people.  I think I am doing some really serious damage here.  I might injure a nerve or something and have to stop by the medical tent. Maybe I could sit down for a while.  

Left foot forward: “Tear down the wall.”  What if I have to limp around for the rest of my life?  Is it really worth it?  I need to take a leak.  I have had so much water because it is supposed to be hot but it is not that hot and now I risk going into some “water-overload-shock thing” that I just finished reading about in Runners World.  I think the guy died.  Can it get any worse? Oh man, I am walking.

Right foot forward: “Tear down the wall.” I thought I was running but it turns out I am walking.  No big deal.  Don’t panic.  I’ll just stare straight down at the ground and try to focus: “Get your shit together man, get it together.” Someone asks me if I am “OK”.  Freak, yes I am “OK”, I am in the zone can’t you see that?  Am I “OK”?  What kind of stupid-fucking-question is that?

Left foot forward: “Tear down the wall.”  I would swear I am running but I seem to have stopped altogether.  Did I say 4 hours?  I meant to say 4:20.  No really, I have been training for a 4:22 marathon all summer.  A 4:27 to be exact.   You know time really doesn’t matter to me anyway.  It is just…  

Right foot forward: “Tear down the wall.”

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