Loose Ends
Before I forget, thank you to all the lurkers for revealing yourselves. It's so fun hearing your stories. There's a lot of accomplished and aspiring marathoners and half-marathoners (not, I suppose, particularly surprising on a blog called "26.2 miles vs." something). How have your races been going? I'm sure I should go read all your fabulous blogs to find out, but I'm having trouble keeping up with my reading, now that I don't have a day job. (Heh.)
And of course, thank you to the regular commenters, whose responses I always love hearing. Riona, we should talk about the Gambia (like how much I adore that they passed legislation to add the definite article to their official name). I am hoping to travel there at some point. Also, Anne, you say you have lived some of my journalism dreams. Any advice?
Speaking of 26.2 miles vs. Something (which I was, a bunch of sentences back. Don't get all literal on me), it has been suggested that I need a new name for this blog. There are, as you can imagine, infinite possibilities.
I could go with a theme: 26.2 miles vs. Africa
or for a horrifying pun: Naomi is the SeneGAL!
or maybe plagiarism: Circling the Baobabs
But somehow none of these is singing to me. So please chime in with any suggestions. If there are enough good ones, maybe I'll conduct a poll.
Of course, a new title would require a new banner, and I don't really have the technology for that anymore (See above, re: lack of day job). So we may just stick with what we have.
****
In other news, I consider it a triumph of sorts that my announcement of marathon retirement has not prompted anybody to question whether I will stop running altogether. After the first marathon, that was a frequent (and entirely justified) question. Apparently, though, two marathons crosses some sort of threshold, after which people just assume you don't want to stop running.
Which, it just so happens, is true. I DON'T want to stop running. I. like. running. (I like to keep saying it, because it sounds so bizarre.)
Of course, I haven't been running since the marathon. This, as you all can guess, has not failed to cause a fair bit of panic in my neurotic brain.
Except not really. It's been a week. I've kind of loved the vacation. But I'm bringing running shoes to Senegal, and, unless I find out something about safety, I'll soon be running along the other side of the Atlantic Ocean.
I know. Pity me.
****
I was going to write about how I'm going soft, and losing my cynical edge (which is true). This is particularly true in my African dance class, where I hugged people goodbye today, and promised to stay in touch, and gave my teacher a copy of a CD that I thought she would like, and didn't even cringe a little bit when she talked about relaxing into our breathing space, and how now we should add our hearts to a certain movement. It's a good thing I'm moving to Africa, because I'm dangerously close to becoming ungaurded, open-minded, and friendly.
But it's lunchtime, and I need to call my twin brother back, and I'm meeting friends for coffee soon, so I'll just have to save that for another time.
And of course, thank you to the regular commenters, whose responses I always love hearing. Riona, we should talk about the Gambia (like how much I adore that they passed legislation to add the definite article to their official name). I am hoping to travel there at some point. Also, Anne, you say you have lived some of my journalism dreams. Any advice?
Speaking of 26.2 miles vs. Something (which I was, a bunch of sentences back. Don't get all literal on me), it has been suggested that I need a new name for this blog. There are, as you can imagine, infinite possibilities.
I could go with a theme: 26.2 miles vs. Africa
or for a horrifying pun: Naomi is the SeneGAL!
or maybe plagiarism: Circling the Baobabs
But somehow none of these is singing to me. So please chime in with any suggestions. If there are enough good ones, maybe I'll conduct a poll.
Of course, a new title would require a new banner, and I don't really have the technology for that anymore (See above, re: lack of day job). So we may just stick with what we have.
****
In other news, I consider it a triumph of sorts that my announcement of marathon retirement has not prompted anybody to question whether I will stop running altogether. After the first marathon, that was a frequent (and entirely justified) question. Apparently, though, two marathons crosses some sort of threshold, after which people just assume you don't want to stop running.
Which, it just so happens, is true. I DON'T want to stop running. I. like. running. (I like to keep saying it, because it sounds so bizarre.)
Of course, I haven't been running since the marathon. This, as you all can guess, has not failed to cause a fair bit of panic in my neurotic brain.
Except not really. It's been a week. I've kind of loved the vacation. But I'm bringing running shoes to Senegal, and, unless I find out something about safety, I'll soon be running along the other side of the Atlantic Ocean.
I know. Pity me.
****
I was going to write about how I'm going soft, and losing my cynical edge (which is true). This is particularly true in my African dance class, where I hugged people goodbye today, and promised to stay in touch, and gave my teacher a copy of a CD that I thought she would like, and didn't even cringe a little bit when she talked about relaxing into our breathing space, and how now we should add our hearts to a certain movement. It's a good thing I'm moving to Africa, because I'm dangerously close to becoming ungaurded, open-minded, and friendly.
But it's lunchtime, and I need to call my twin brother back, and I'm meeting friends for coffee soon, so I'll just have to save that for another time.
posted by Noames at 12:20 PM
7 Comments:
you are making me cry!
I've got plenty of practical advice that I'll shoot over to you in an e-mail, like what to do when a riot breaks out and the crowd suddenly turns on you. But know this now: True journalists don't always make a lot of money for the work they do. But they lead very rich lives because of their chosen profession. The experiences you have will be invaluable. (And make for good blog fodder!)
You were the most open-minded, unguarded and friendly marathon runner I've ever met. Don't stop now.
Um, your cynical edge?? I mean, I know you love sarcasm and all, but I do remember a certain night at the end of freshman year where we all stayed up packing and eating brownie mix together and hugged our goodbyes in the morning as if we weren't going to see each other in just a few months...
YOU'RE NOT FOOLING ANYBODY!!
But I'm gonna miss you tons when you're in Africa. I mean, I know we're not living so close now, but DC is a hell of a lot closer to Pittsburgh than Africa!!
::sniff::
I'm a fan of the pun, so, I humbly suggest: I'd Stop By, But I Don't Have Dakar!
OK, pretty bad, but it does locate you.
Good luck!
Wow, Scooter, that's even worse than the one I came up with.
And David, I was going to say that your comment was merely proof that it was already too late, but then Kate had to chime in with proof that I've been a sentimental fool for years already.
Meanwhile, Anne, I totally want to hear what riots you were in the middle of, and how you managed not to get trampled.... And any other practical advice you may have. My email address is in my blogger profile.
Are you a fan of Isak Dinesen? I'm sorry if that is a dumb question. There are some great lines in the movie "Out of Africa" that may provide inspiration...
"Doesn't that outfit come with a rifle?"
- Denys
And:
"What happens tomorrow?"
- Karen
"I have no idea."
- Denys
And:
"Perhaps he knew, as I did not, that the Earth was made round so that we would not see too far down the road."
- Karen
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