Derek Teslik tackles the importance of running for an author—and listening to Joyce audiobooks while doing so—in an essay over at The Millions: So, for this last run, I wanted to…
My doctor told me to begin with adding five minutes to my morning walk. During those five minutes, I recalled the life I’d once had—that intense life that ambition gave me—and the man I’d once been.
Over at The Collapsar, Brian Oliu pens a stunning essay on writing, running, and changing one’s perception of both the body and the prose: This, to me, is what a…
My first gynecologist tells me that my vagina is on the smaller side of the normal range. I use this as a justification for why, at eighteen, I still can’t get a tampon in more than a quarter of an inch past my hymen.
Nick Ripatrazone on why writers need to run: While on sabbatical in London in 1972, a homesick Oates began running “compulsively; not as a respite for the intensity of writing…
We suffer, after all, not because of the ways we speak, but because of the ways we exclude ourselves with internalized external narratives about how different we feel from others.
In the woods, at first we feel like babies carried on our mothers’ backs. We run at the end of the pack with our heads shaved bald as a symbol of our newness.
Steve Prefontaine, known simply as Pre to the hordes of teenage runners who idolized him, once said, “Somebody may beat me, but they are going to have to bleed to do it.”