run it off

Rant. Run. Write. Repeat.

Archive for the category “For the Runner”

No Words

No Words

If You Are…

If you are a runner, be thankful for every obstacle, every burning breath, every hill you think will never end. They make you stronger.

If you are a writer, appreciate every slight, every trial, every moment you spend with your face in the dirt. They make the best stories.

If you are a ranter, consider running or writing. You’ll never run out of material, and in the midst of your misery you’ll be happier than you’ve ever been in your life.

Cold Turkey

The mystery of the windshield-darting fowl has been solved.

And not only am I unable to differentiate hawk from owl, but hawk from owl from…..turkey.

Yes, my friends, contrary to all probability and reason, a turkey has made up its mind to sail into my life (and windshield) on a regular basis.  With a chip on its proverbial shoulder (turkeys have no actual shoulders of which to speak).

The encounter was brief, but I got the message.  It went a little something like this:

Okay, we didn’t arm wrestle.  (But I would totally have kicked that turkey’s ass if we had.  Stick legs vs. arms?  Please.  Or it might have scratched my eyes out.  Probably there would have been pecking.  Alright, the turkey totally would’ve kicked my ass.) Read more…

The Few, the Proud, the Marine Who Turned my Day Upside-Down

NovellaSometimes Novella can be a little b…rat.

I do a lot for the girl. To be quite honest, if it weren’t for me she wouldn’t even be here. I try to deal with her nonsense and take it in stride, stand by her and help her to keep moving forward, but sometimes I just want to tell her to shut her back-talking mouth and go to her room and sleep for a day or two.

She sleeps a lot, actually.  Far more than most kids her age.  She never seems to get enough, though.  Not to the point where I can look her over first thing in the morning and say, “Yes, she’s well-rested and ready to jump into the world!”  She always seems to need just one more hour- maybe two- heck, why not half the morning?  I’ve got laundry, committee-work, grocery shopping, gift-buying/making, house cleaning nothing to do. Read more…

The Finish Line (or Something Like it) and Playing Chicken

A commercial meat chicken production house in ...

It’s the last day of November.  Time to reflect on my accomplishments over the past 30 days.  No doubt about it, this was an expensive, intense, break-neck speed a big month around here, so let’s just see where we are… Read more…

Run it Off On Facebook

Run it Off On Facebook

Good news, friends!  Now you can keep up with all things Run it Off on my Facebook page, currently featuring spectacular artwork by myself (see below).  Please Like and spread the word!  Thanks so much!

I'm actually pretty quiet when I run.  This is more thematic than factual.

I’m actually pretty quiet when I run. This is more thematic than factual.

The First Step from Impossible

Every once in a while youtube offers the world something truly worth watching.  This video just made my week.  It tells the story of Arthur Goorman, a disabled Gulf War paratrooper who decided to draw his own conclusions about what was and was not possible.  If you can watch this footage and not be moved, I suggest you spend a few moments alone and examine yourself to make sure you do, in fact, have a soul.

Running With the Night

Run dark...

Run dark… (Photo credit: clogsilk)

It’d been three days since my last run, and it was getting to me. That “I need to get out and GO” twitch can be mighty anxiety-provoking. I should have gone this morning, but one thing led to another and before I knew it the night was upon me, leaving me with a choice: go after dark, sticking to busy (or as busy as any street can be on a Sunday night), well-lit streets, or unbelievably early tomorrow morning. I didn’t want to let the day pass without getting my run in. Night run it was. Read more…

Cold, Inside Out

Frozen heart

Frozen heart (Photo credit: net_efekt)

Cold and I have a love/hate relationship.  I shouldn’t even give it a second thought, really; I’m a transplanted Northerner, so I grew up in its presence, and I can only ever remember one time in my younger days when I took any notice of it.  But I remember the struggle I had with it that night, fighting it, enduring it, calling on my mental reserves to keep me going.  Don’t get me wrong, I was only waiting for a ride, not lost in the wilderness, and I was even able to stand indoors.  But the freeze took hold of me and wouldn’t be driven out.  Cold didn’t notice, perhaps out of spite, that it belonged to the outside of our modern world, and wasn’t welcome indoors.  Instead, it decided to make itself at home and stay awhile, in the form of the person standing next to me. Read more…

Rant. Run. Write. Repeat.

I have three hobbies.  I love to write.  I’m hooked on running.  And ranting is something I find myself doing more than either of them.  If you’ve found your way here, I’m guessing you share one or more of these passions.  I encourage you to join me in them all.

There are, however, a few ground rules.  First off, those of us who write will agree to call ourselves writers; we will not be bound by the P-word.  Yes, we’re placating ourselves.  That is acceptable here.  Unless, of course, I happen to be ranting against it, in which case it’s not.  My world, my rules.

The definition of a runner is simple here, too.  Do you run a lot by choice?  If yes, you’re a runner.  John Bingham says so.

And ranting, well… I don’t know anyone who doesn’t delve into this at some point during an average day, but that don’t make you no ranter.  Double negative notwithstanding, there are some stringent eligibility requirements for this one.  You have to be good at it.  Witty.  Entertaining.  Funny.  You get the idea.

Now that we’re all on the same page, let’s be off.  Rant.  Run.  Write.  Repeat.

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