I popped up, shook my limbs, shrugged at a suddenly pale St. Matt, and resumed my run and the conversation: "And it was so consuming; I couldn't turn pages--

He interrupted to point out that I'd given him yet another heart attack and to repeat: "Don't look at your leg. No. Don't. I said DON'T look at it."

I have a weensy issue with blood ( Read more... )

I volunteered at an Autism Awareness 5K this morning. I probably could’ve run it, but - since the tan lines from last summer’s ankle brace still haven’t faded --I’m babying my ankle this year.

St.Matt and my SIL were running, they had maps of the course in their race bag, along with sneaker chips, safety pins, number and Powerbars.

I had a bright ( Read more... )

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Today is Marathon Monday in Boston, the first day of Massachusetts’s spring break, and also Patriots’ Day. It’s Marathon Monday that drew me home this weekend - away from my non-vacationing classroom in Pennsylvania. My father’s running his 14th - or possibly 15th or 16th, he hasn’t kept track - Boston Marathon and if he runs, I cheer.

My first ( Read more... )

When I participated in high school track, I was a member of the distance crew. I could never be a sprinter because it took me too long to get warmed up. By the time I was ready to turn on the speed, the sprint was over.

In my writing life I function much the same way. I prefer to sit down for an endurance writing session - get lost in the world I’ve ( Read more... )