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 ›
History of Running
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 ›
Pheidippides
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 ›
Boston
“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 ›
New York City Marathon, Part I
Pre-Arrival, Three Days Before. We are passing through; we are in rural Adams County in south central Pennsylvania on our way to New York City. We spend the night on a farm on the Eastern slope of South Mountain. We… Read More ›
New York City Marathon, Part II
Sunday, The Day Begins. I am delusional. I think I am in a race in New York City, but, in fact, I am in a warm bed in an old farmhouse with the branches of thousands of apple trees embracing… Read More ›
New York City Marathon, Part III
Sunday: The Race. I read somewhere that sometimes they shut down the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge due to the force of the wind. Running the two-mile suspension bridge that crosses between Staten Island and Brooklyn and with the open bay and Atlantic… 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 ›
Take a Magic Bean
Take a magic bean. Beans always work for me. Take a bean, feel better. Wasn’t that our motto as teenagers? This is an exercise in futility, I am afraid – no bean will get me ready for the New York Marathon in… Read More ›
Recovery
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 ›
Falling
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 ›
Sophomore Letdown, Nazis, Miss America’s Boobs, and the New York City Marathon
My wife wants to know why I consider this my sophomore season when I have been running for three years. At the moment, though, I am lying in my running clothes on the long-end of a sectional couch. I am staring… 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
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 ›
Racing
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 ›
The History of Running, Part II
Lived with cross-country runners my first two years of college. Not sure I was the best person to land in their midst. Haven’t seen them since. After high school, could have joined the Army and fought my way through Viet Nam… Read More ›
The History of Running
Never ran until after grad school. Ran in my mid-thirties to lose weight. Waited so long saved my knees. Many others now have knee problems due to the pounding they took back in high school and college. Tenth grade in… Read More ›
My Butt is Killing Me
My butt is killing me. I am sitting on a soft, throw pillow on my favorite easy chair, and, nevertheless, my butt is the primary source of my pain, a throbbing thump pulsating up and down my backside no matter how… Read More ›
My Bathroom Scale
Why is it always such a struggle? I am sitting in the early morning light drinking coffee and wondering why I am fighting with my body, once again. Every morning I weigh myself before I come downstairs. Often it is… Read More ›
jonathan giles 