Category: Running
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Goodness, Deconcentration, and the Great Concavity
Easter, 2014. I put on a chartreuse dress and lilac suede sandals and Brady and I go uptown to my great aunt’s where we eat mille feuille from Lady M and drink probably too much white wine out of small, weighty hock glasses. On the way home I get off the subway two stops early…
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How to Love New York: Spectating (or Running) the New York Marathon
It occurs to me, on this Saturday before Marathon Sunday, that this date has not come up in my scattered set of posts on loving this city. Ridiculous oversight, now remedied. Marathon Sunday is my favorite day of the year to be in New York. As the promotional posters avow, It Will Move You —…
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Just Don’t Call It a Waddle
Today I came across a list of ways of walking. It’s a vocabulary list, on an Argentinian ESL language site, and its breadth and the generousness of some of its inclusions made me smile. “Mooch,” for example, breaks free the shackles of glommingdom: to mooch is to wander, walk slowly without any purpose. Why, the…
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Tattarrattat, Pt. 1
For years, I took playlist creation very seriously, and now, in the ides of marathon training, I’m very glad I did: there are thirty two of them on Spotify, days’ if not weeks’ worth of songs. It’s 2018 and I am thirty but a few hours ago it was 2011 and I was twenty three…
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Who Put the Bomp
A few years ago, I wrote what might still be my favorite post. It was about the history of pockets, and it’s my favorite because for once, the conclusion came easy and neatly. Too neatly and pop-historically, to be sure — but I’ll stand by it. Here it is, so you don’t have to click and…
éclaircissements 