I just got what has become my annual TGO Challenge haircut, which makes me look more or less like this fellow—the one on the left, not the handsome devil on the right—rather than the shaggy scruffian I’d developed into over … Continue reading
There’s been lots of nattering over here about Nick Clegg’s appreciation of Samuel Beckett and how no American politician could survive a statement like the one Clegg gave to the Guardian. This is the bit American bloggers and columnists … Continue reading
As Mr. Rogers would say, it’s a beautiful day in this neighborhood. Warm, freshly leafed-out, and full of sunny promise. On my shuffle this morning, I stopped for a chat with a high school classmate who, with a little help … Continue reading
I’ve been shuffling the roads and sidewalks of Concord a bit, once—wonderfully—with H. The other day I was running near a park and saw that a crew was grooming the baseball diamond. Concord seems to have a lot of good, … Continue reading
I’ve been up in Concord for just a week now, while H does her two-weeks of night float (6 pm to 7 am) at the hospital and A tries to keep to a good working schedule in Manchester. My job … Continue reading
Very short and very slow, but no sneak attack from rebellious achilles tendons, and that tweak in the gastrocnemius-soleus slot seems—finally—to have given way before ice, elevation, and serious, non-stop whining. So after a few infuriating weeks off, I think … Continue reading
A couple of weeks ago, the Republican governor of Virginia revived the state’s Confederate History Month, and issued a proclamation to that effect in which he left out any mention of slavery. After being hammered for a few days, he … Continue reading
ooh-ah says sweet b which means “open” or “closed” (context is everything) she pushes the door then wanders in to make our day just beginning already perfect … Continue reading
I was perusing my old edition of Arthur Lydiard’s book—my running bible—this morning. I wanted a refresher on a particular style of shoe-lacing (sometimes called “Lydiard Lacing,”) but wound up reading whole sections of running gospel. The great Arthur—who coached … Continue reading
I popped the cork on a bottle of bubbly a little before 11 Tuesday night (and woke up on Wednesday with a minor version of those precision-drill-between-the-eyes Champagne reminders). Our girls had done it again. Undefeated national champs for the … Continue reading