run it off

Rant. Run. Write. Repeat.

Archive for the category “enjoyment of running”

Branching Out

I’m convinced the ancient Greeks got the whole Medusa thing wrong. Those aren’t snakes coiled about her head. They’re bookworms.

Someone recently pointed out to me that I have been less than egalitarian in my focus with this blog.  It seemed to her that I’d been posting heavily on my passion for running, at the expense of my love for writing.  (I can only assume my critical friend felt ranting had been given its full due.)

Not being one to fear an honest assessment of my work, I took the matter into consideration (but not before reminding the assessor to be a little less free with her opinions when addressing her elders to avoid being thought impertinent).  She was not entirely wrong.  In fact, she was a lot right.

Standing at this crossroads, I faced two options.  Stuff this flourishing blog back into the confines it had clearly outgrown, or give it room to grow naturally and hold on for the ride.  My writer friends out there know this was an easy choice to make.

So I’m branching out.  Today I launched Ramshackle and Brambly, a blog devoted purely to my literary work.  Now those of you who prefer to read about running can do that here without too much interruption, and those who’d rather read than speed will have a place to do so freely and without that seed of guilt in the pit of your gut over the frequently sedentary requirements of the writer/reader lifestyle.

But far be it from me to break up the party.  If you’ve enjoyed what you’ve experienced here, there’s a good chance you will continue to do so, even if you’re not into the fitness thing.  I encourage you to stick around.  Likewise, if you live for the thrill of the race and the wind in your face, and you just can’t do without the glory and pain and other melodramatics we runners love to boast about in memeform (damn right I’m trademarking that one), you just might enjoy the excitement a good story told well can offer~ and may even be game enough to take a detour through the poetry wing every now and then and add a little variety to your online routine.  You don’t train for that marathon on the same route every day, do you?  Why should exercising your brain be any different?

Growth is change.  No way around that.  I’ll be shaking things up a little around here in the next few weeks, but don’t worry.  The upheaval will be minor.  Meanwhile, please feel free to head over to the new site and explore my new roost.  Maybe click the follow button and stay awhile.  Hopefully you’ll feel it was time well spent.  I’m trying out a new moniker over there, as well; drop me a comment and let me know if you think I should make the switch official or hold onto Runoffwriter just a little while longer.

As always, thanks for reading, running, and ranting with me.  And here’s to writing the next chapter.

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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