History of Running


Hobbled. Mentally and physically! This is how I diagnose my situation, my crisis of the moment. I am in my ratty underwear early on a Sunday morning, half-lying over the kitchen counter and half-sitting on one of the counter stools…. Read More ›

The Trail

The weather was cooler now. He looked down the wide, tree-covered path as it disappeared into the forest and took a deep breath. He stretched his arms across his chest, ran his hand through his hair, and started running. He… Read More ›

Boston Marathon

You have got to be kidding me!  I am at mile eighteen of the Boston Marathon and the foothills that began around mile sixteen are turning into the Himalayas. It has been raining throughout the race, but now, suddenly, here… Read More ›


I know no rivers, no forests, no fields. I know pavement and concrete — and how hard fulfillment feels on my feet, my back, the sun, the heat as temperatures rise. I know the relentless wind, drenching rain, and numbing… Read More ›


“So, you’re alive.” Shaun, my old mountain-climbing friend, the guy who had a heart attack way back when, is standing over me as I try to do sit-ups at the gym. “Barely – ” I make a feeble attempt at… Read More ›

Myrtle Beach

“You’re fucked!” My friend Shaun is standing beside me in the weight room, and we are both staring at ourselves in the large mirror on the wall. Behind us are all sorts of weight equipment, benches and treadmills. Shaun is… Read More ›


He wasn’t sure why he felt his best days were behind him.  He had driven to Gettysburg for the day to visit the town and see his two sisters and decided at the spur of the moment, as the late afternoon… Read More ›


Fuck! Fuckfuckfuck!  I can’t believe this!  Fuck.  Fuck.  Fuck!  Oh, Fuuuuuuuccccckkk!  Now I’ve done it.  I was running in the forest and fucking tripped over a fucking root and fucking yanked my left leg forward to stop my fucking fall and, fuck, I heard a… Read More ›

The Big Six

Okay, so who doesn’t contemplate running a half-marathon on the Saturday before Thanksgiving.  Clearly I had gone over the edge and was living in an alternative universe.  Why else would I be standing in drizzling rain with a group of two… Read More ›

The Chicago Marathon

National Anthem.  Seven-thirty Sunday morning and it was time to get started.  Thousands of runners had converged on Grant Park in the city of Chicago and were ready to go, shaking their legs and rubbing their arms, waiting patiently as the Mayor said… Read More ›


Madness.  There is something about marathons that produce a madness in people.  Not just the runners and spectators, but everyone associated with the event: families, friends, colleagues at work, people you don’t even know.  Even the city, itself, the one hosting the… Read More ›

Racing, Part II

Immediately after my “ship-listing” 10K in November, 2012, I determined I would run religiously every Sunday until reaching the half-marathon I had set as a goal for myself the following spring, keeping my eye squarely on the race date coming… Read More ›


It’s always the next damn race.  Such tests of endurance are supposed to be over by now, but racing has morphed me into a monster.  Now I am training to die. Back in February, Helen, my daughter living up north near the… Read More ›