Blog Posts

Dr. Klion called to congratulate me on my 4:38:17 finish. “Great job,” he said. “You ran an excellent race despite a significant injury. Now, take a well-deserved break. Don’t do anything for at least ten days.” Um… ok. Abbi and I had our post-marathon massages on Monday. Afterwards, as we scarfed a dozen oysters, two…

‘What have you done?’ I thought. Then I started running. Forget the six months of training, or — for the moment — the confidence-shattering knee injury; getting to the start of the New York City Marathon was a marathon in itself. The Staten Island commute began when the alarm sounded at 4:30. Abbi and I…

There’s no turning back now. Abbi and I hit the New York City Marathon Expo at the Javitz Center last night. We breezed through packet pickup in just a few minutes (dodging wide-eyed first-timers and slow-poke internationals), then grabbed a few Power Gels (you know you’re a runner when you exclain either of the following:…

I used to scribble a skewed, antenna-wearing smiley face on all of my set lists to remind me to smile during performances. It’s not that I don’t enjoy playing rock shows. Of course I do. It’s just that I’m so busy remembering chords, and lyrics, and gestures, and eye contact that I forget to smile.…

Rock ‘n roll is like boxing. This is not a terrifically original thesis, I realize. Aimee Mann has a whole concept album relating boxing to life, set to (duh) rock ‘n roll. The title, “The Forgotten Arm,” refers (as she told me in this 2002 interview), is derived from a boxing move in which one…

The Dewars Lounge in Terminal C of the Southwest Florida Regional Airport is nearly empty. Ours is the last flight of the night. Over beers and sandwiches, I tell Abbi about the round of golf my brother, father and I played this morning. “I tell myself two things before every shot,” I said. “Keep your…