The Best of Times, The Worst of Times: A Look Back at 2017

I suppose there’s really no better time to come down with a cold than the week between Christmas and New Year’s, when time doesn’t seem to exist and, as I tweeted a few days ago, it feels like you’re living inside an instantaneous moment like when Jodie Foster fell through the wormhole machine in Contact. You know when she visits her dad on the weird planet with the backwards tide but later it’s revealed she never left the launching pad? That’s now. We’re in that. Time is meaningless, space is nonexistent, and, even if we explained what transpired this week to anyone outside of it (which is no one and everyone), they wouldn’t believe us – for to them, this week never took place.

Maybe I’ve been cooped up inside for too long.

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Had Myself a Merry Little Christmas

Oof, I’ve been out of it. I haven’t posted in four days, which is apparently the length of time I start to feel rul guilty about it. But I have an excuse: I have a small cold! Boo-hoo. It’s just a sore throat and an occasional sniffle and sneeze. I started feeling it the day after Christmas, I THINK as a result of being around so many kids? None of my nephews were sick, but the last time I got this same thing, I had also just been around my nephews a bunch. I don’t know how parents even survive raising kids. Your immune systems must have to be made of steel.

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‘Twas the Run Before Christmas

This morning I ran a good old 10 miles on my good old route around good old Northport.

I love running on weekends because not only can I run after the sun is up, I don’t have to rush to catch a train. It’s so leisurely. It’s also Christmas Eve, and I honestly love running on or close to holidays when hardly anyone is out driving. Christmas is not only my favorite holiday, it’s my favorite day to run. In fact, I only did 10 miles today – instead of going longer than last week’s 12 – so I’d have some energy left to run tomorrow.

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