On I went, out of the wood, passing the man leading without knowing I was going to do so. Flip-flap, flip-flap, jog-trot, jog-trot, curnchslap-crunchslap, across the middle of a broad field again, rhythmically running in my greyhound effortless fashion, knowing I had won the race though it wasn't half over, won it if I wanted it, could go on for ten or fifteen or twenty miles if I had to and drop dead at the finish of it, which would be the same, in the end, as living an honest life like the governor wanted me to. -Alan Sillitoe, "Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner"

Saturday, February 20, 2010

Update on my crow's feet

My sister, a way more avid runner than I am (and someone remarkably wrinkle free, despite being older than me), called me the other day to say that she knows why I'm getting crow's feet.  She did preface it by saying that probably I wasn't, that probably it was just the lighting or the mirror or I had slept funny (because she's a good sister).  Then she said, and this cracks me up, "Probably you don't need more sunblock because probably it's not the sun that's giving you the wrinkles if you have them, but that thing, what's the word? That thing people do with their eyes when they look up at the sun?  Oh, man, I don't remember what it's called, but it's when people are like looking at the sun and their eyes go funny because it's bright?"

Um... squinting?  I swear, she is a native English speaker.  (And a librarian, which doesn't explain why she couldn't figure out how to leave a comment herself on the blog.)

She suggested sunglasses.  I ran with a pair for a few weeks one summer ages ago and didn't like it - that's when I discovered the baseball hat, which has been my warm weather go to ever since.  But I don't wear one in the winter: could she be on to something?

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