it took me months to finally find a name for this website, then a week to buy the URL, and then another week, it turns out, to finally publish my very first post. analysis paralysis is what they call it. so instead of carefully and painstakingly drafting out a perfect post, i’m going pluck one from the trap that is my mind, hoist it over the side of the boat and into the water, tethered to this lame mixed metaphor.
what you see here is a mildly embarrassing school portrait taken of me in 1991.
what you don’t see are the combat boots, black tights, and black shorts i wore especially for picture day. another thing you’re not seeing here is my internal struggle to be cool while most people thought i was a “total freak”.
for me and my friends, 1991 was a time when the jocks ruled the school. this was a time when the song “hold on” by wilson philips hit #1 on the charts. this was a time when the pages of teen magazine lined school lockers. this was also a time when my friends and i listened to fugazi, the cure, and the smiths. we were not jocks. we did not “hold on,” and we only read sassy and ms magazine.
so how did this jock-hating, alternative music-loving, coffee house-going, 90s slacker become a runner? perhaps you were like me back in the 90s or later. maybe you’re already thinking of running and don’t know where to start for fear of looking like a “poser”. here i’ll tell you my stories and show you as I go along that you can do it without turning into a total sell-out. we’re grown-ass people, now. it’s time we load up a good playlist (i’ve got a few for you), get off the couch, stop brooding, and start moving.