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"

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

I don't have anything to say.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know that those of you who know me in real life will find that absolutely impossible to believe.

But it's true.

I'm completely inundated at work; truly one of those hellish periods that luckily only come around, oh, once a semester.  I'm having enough trouble keeping on top of my work and running.  I absolutely can't come up with anything interesting to say about running for the time being.

Let me put it this way: my last issue of Running Times has been sitting, untouched and unread, in a stack of magazines and unimportant junk mail for more than two weeks.  And you know how much I love me some Running Times.

Point being: I'll be back in a few days when I have something to say again.

I'm okay.

But until then, you'll have to keep waiting.


  1. Either I'm really jealous of you because my Running Times came yesterday, or I'm really sad for you because mine came yesterday. Depends which issue it is. That, and 'tis the season for a lot of stress, no matter what you celebrate.

  2. I've been waiting my whole life...so, I'll be fine. ;)

  3. Oh, man. I just checked - it's the December Running Times. It's been sitting there a full month. I suck.