I'm thinking about writing a book called Where the Sidewalk Ends. My version will not be a classic book of quirky, lovable poetry for young and old alike. Mine will be about middle-age man who goes on a stroll during lunch in an industrial park, gets lost, and has to dodge semi-trucks and forklifts in … Continue reading The Dangers of Cardio
In which I am shamed by the fact that I need digital encouragement to perform a function as fundamental as moving. Or something.
I don't mean to brag, but I've been on quite the running streak lately. Most days this week, as a matter fact. On a slightly related subject, every time I get about a quarter mile into my run, I turn around to see a figure in a black, hooded robe and carrying a large sickle, floating about … Continue reading Runner’s High?
Note: I dispense, for now, with the "aside" nonsense. Fiction is difficult. Inane observations which spill over from a semi-odd brain are somewhat easier. And if I ever resume posting "fictional" chapters, then the "asides" will cease to be nonsense, and will be once again be high art indeed! (Or something.) I don't necessarily believe … Continue reading Gym-splaining