Oh Oh, It's Magic

Last Thursday I finally managed to finish Carter Beats the Devil.  I was exhausted and had planned to take a nap but the last few pages were too tempting to leave another day.  It's on my highly recommend list as a fun read.

I'm not sure what's next on my list.  I had a slight fever while traveling Sunday so I wasn't up for another literary adventure just yet.

My weekend was filled with long walks (and active meditation).  An NPR blogger, Adam Frank, was on a similar vein though our paths were about 8.2 million people apart.  He offers "How to Take a Walk in the Woods."  I can offer "How to walk from Central Park to the Empire State Building".

Chance to be a NoMad

It's been a bit busy with work this week but I did manage to take a late walk

Times Square via iPhone
April 2013

and visit a library. 

Walk This Way

I've been daydreaming of my next long holiday.  Colleagues and friends who know I like to travel have been asking me "where will you go this year?"  I haven't quite sorted the answer, but I know I'll take a long walk.

The NY Times features Europe, in 9 Walks.  I've been fortunate enough to manage two of them; perhaps one day, I'll promenade through the rest.

Every Rose Has its Thorn

I seem to be on a trend to miss Saturdays, especially when they are sunny and I have a race.  I hope you too were enjoying the sunshine and spring weather.  [I also hope that you, unlike me, remembered to wear gloves when staking up the roses.]  

Two articles from The Guardian captured my interest today:

* This interview with Marian Keyes where she candidly faces questions about her writing, depression, and her wit

* This fascination with Zelda Fitzgerald and the books due to be published this year

Both have dark undertones with a bit of bling.  But then, that's life (and a rose bush).

The Cool Club

By GBC P@1ge's account, it was another fun meeting to discuss The Razor's Edge by W. Somerset Maugham.   A big yard, shade trees, a porch, and reading water sounds pretty amazing right now.

Hope all have a great end of week!

Next up for May: The Hobbit by J. R. R. Tolkien

Ready to Run

One of my early memories of running is basketball practice in the sixth grade.  Coach Lady was a fan of suicide drills and whistles.

Next up, Freshman year PE class and the timed mile.  We were supposed to break six minutes running around the tennis courts.  (I don't know if I ever did.)

High school softball practice included running the perimeter of the outfield.  Our school was too small and rural for a Track & Field team so anyone who played another sport was recruited to run.  I wore a stranger's track shoes and started off the blocks.  I had no idea what I was doing, but I didn't drop the baton.

College running was on the football field as a wide-receiver.  Sprints didn't seem so bad if there was a ball in the air.

But I wasn't a runner.

Fast forward to 2006 when I decided to attempt to run seriously in an effort to get control of my life.  My partner at the time could run beside me backwards at the same pace I ran forwards.  I wasn't a runner.

I can remember the first time I ran 10 consecutive minutes and know exactly where I was when I ran 20 without stopping.  I ran two 5ks and then a half marathon, but I didn't call myself a runner.  

I logged thousands of miles.  I ran in a dozen states, three continents, at least five countries, and I owned more than one pair of running shoes.  And then I moved.  

I didn't know anyone in my new town so I ran without headphones.  I started to run with people.  One of my coworkers became a dear friend and we ran together step by step in 2011 for my second half marathon and his first in nearly two decades.  The night before the race, my yogi self attended a meditation class and our teacher asked us to find our mantra.  Mine inexplicably was, "I am a runner."

Now, I chant it when I jog.  It's on constant repeat for any mile after 10.  I embrace the label and yesterday when so many people sent me notes to see if my friends were okay, I know it to be true.  I am a runner.  

My heart goes out to the city of Boston, to runners, to spectators, and to those who use a different label for their "I am."

We are all different.  We are all the same.  

Author's note:  I hope you will forgive the absence to a book reference.  I've had running on my mind.

Owl Call You Later

Sometimes the weekend slips by just like those sands in the hourglass and you're left looking at the empty bulb wishing someone would turn it over just again.  A few more hours would be nice.

Sometimes you get a case of the Sundays where Lucinda's song plays in your head on repeat.

Sometimes you cook your cheesecake on the wrong temperature so it tastes perfectly fine (excluding that ring of fire charred around the edges).

On those nights before chasing sleep, you need David Sedaris talking about a stuffed owl.  You need to know about a taxidermist who says,

"What we've done," he boasted, "is stretch a chicken over an owl form."

It's a read I highly recommend, and I think it works just fine for Monday.

Fore

"Golf is the closest game to the game we call life. You get bad breaks from good shots; you get good breaks from bad shots - but you have to play the ball where it lies."

- Bobby Jones

The Masters, Augusta, GA
April 2013

Not Tiring of Books

My mantra to survive the seven hours in the car yesterday:   Stay Awake.

Small bit of trivia, this is also the title of the book by Dan Chaon, (garnering four stars on Amazon).

A Cover Up

As someone who has worked with products which aren't exactly mainstream, I appreciate businesses who find their niche.  "Bibles, Cookbooks and Kid's books" are the top three categories for Ms. McKay's work at The Book Doctor in Dallas.  They repair spines, covers, and a host of other types of damage, including "dog damage."  The work in the gallery photos is really quite amazing.  If your books are feeling spineless, it may be work a look.

The Odd Sunday

It's been a running, weeding, and cleaning (and forgetting to write) type of weekend.  The weather has been amazing.

Hope you've had a most wonderful day.

Striking Goal-d

I'm a goal setter.

I have life goals, career goals, financial goals, annual goals, vacation goals, fitness goals and each night I set my daily goals for the following day.  (These are sometimes adjusted after a night's rest and a strong coffee.)

On today's goal list: Salon 615.  I may have kept my schedule available during this morning slot in an effort to secure tickets to see Cheryl Strayed, author of Wild which I keenly enjoyed.  We'll see how it goes.

Hope you have a goal-den Thurday!

To the Letter

I have studied Willa Cather in at least two English courses.  Until this (insomnia ridden) morning, I didn't realize she was from Nebraska.  This article in The New York Times by Jennifer Schuessler was a fascinating reveal in that 566 of Cather's letters will be published in an anthology later this month.  (Side note:  Cather didn't want her personal correspondence published.)

I love letters and I enjoy reading old correspondence, especially that found in a random book at a remote used bookstore, however I an not quite certain how I feel about this release.  Several of you know I have been following this recent news item about the publication of the HeLa genome without the family's prior consent.    

This morning's 3:30 ethical ponder:  at what point does the greater public understanding trump the personal decision?  

Author's note:  Please don't publish any personal correspondence which contains really bad puns.