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"

Monday, April 29, 2013

Someone has a google news alert set up for himself!

Remember a while ago, when I complained about a race director's policies on my blog and then he came to my site and left some angry comments? That same race director - who I won't name, because he obviously scans the web for mentions of his company - has a new, odd policy.

You can read all about it on Emilie's blog. And I hope you do. And I hope you comment on it (he already has). And unnamed race director, if you read this: your races are well loved by the community. Please, please get someone to handle your marketing (proof reading your newsletters and handling communication for you).

PS: In case you're wondering how I'm doing during my work-imposed blogging moratorium, I'm well. The ER confirmed my sternum wasn't broken, although it really, really hurt for a while. On my next bike ride out, I loosened the tension on my clipless pedals too much and a piece fell out - so now they won't clip. Good riddance to those. Last week I discovered some TRAILS - like, real ones, complete with branches and rocks to trip you, kids smoking pot in the woods, and TURTLES in a pond - in Prospect Park. My life is forever changed.