Grace Faustino was running — running with a check — running to the bank — and I was running alongside her. The check had come in from the mother of Jimmy Weinstein, editor and publisher of In These Times (the newspaper I was working at) in Chicago, and not a moment too soon: The utilities were … Read more
I am venturing out on a new path.– No, that doesn’t quite sound right. I am taking the road not taken.– That’s worse. Well, here’s the thing: for the first time, I’m doing regular cycling training on my own, rather than within the warm, protective embrace of my Team In Training teammates. Alone time is … Read more
In the summer of 1979, just after my junior year in college, my father, Paul, saw me off from a train platform at Grand Central Station. He was 55, and had just lost his job as a schoolteacher in Connecticut. I’d been home for a week, and he’d asked me to stay longer, but I … Read more
I need to design a 200-miles-in-two-days course for myself this fall. It’s a make-up for a ride that I didn’t get to do this summer. I’m calling it, at Sara’s suggestion, the Josh Kornbluth Invitational — but I have no idea whether anyone else will participate! I mentioned this in an e-blast, and I got … Read more
Fifty-seven-year-old me: Wait it out. Keep on doing what you do. You will find love, and love will find you. Seven-year-old me: It seems like forever. Are you sure? Fifty-seven-year-old me: I’m sure.