Haruki Murakami.

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Actually did a long run yesterday instead of just talking a big game. It was about 7.5km shorter than the half-marathon I’m due to do (be-doo-be-doo) in May, but about 5.5km longer than anything I’ve done since…August? Something like that, anyway. There were quite a few walking breaks at the end, but as I was still moving in a forward direction, who the hell cares, eh?

Things I thought about when I was thinking about running:

  • I wonder how far I can go.
  • I can’t remember if these socks are adequate.
  • I wonder if the farm is clear enough to run through.
  • Or do I want to go West instead?
  • Do I need a jacket?

Things I thought about when I was actually running:

  • Why the hell doesn’t my phone fit in my running belt?
  • Pebble! Pebble! Fuck, where is the fucking thing, aside from IN MY SHOE?
  • The farm is not passable! Abort! Abort!
  • I can’t believe I have to carry my phone in my hand. I hope I don’t drop it in an icy puddle.
  • It’s so cool! How are people wearing tiny tops and shorts to run?
  • Fucking soaker!
  • I really need new sunglasses that stay on and wrap around so I don’t have to adjust them every five steps.
  • It’s so warm! How can be people be wearing tuques and jackets to run?

Things I thought about after my run:

  • Ow.
  • A sunburn in March. A new record.
  • How long will I hurt?
  • Zzzzz.


Saw Friends with Kids last night. I enjoyed it. It won’t set the world on fire, but it was pretty clever for a fairly formulaic film. Plus, y’know, Adam Scott is just great. So great. And I really want Maya Rudolph to be my friend. And Kristen Wiig can pull off non-zany, which is good to know. And the teenagers in the loos who complained that the film ‘wasn’t funny’ because it was ‘just a bunch of talking’ can fuck off.


I haven’t been doing any real trivia prep in the last few weeks. I just haven’t had the brainpower necessary to absorb any kind of new information. I haven’t even been on Sporcle much, which, a few months ago, would have seemed impossible. ‘Jeopardy!’ hasn’t called either, so maybe it’s not my destiny to make a fortune with my brain. At least not this year.

(Does anyone have Jon Hamm’s number? Maybe I could get him to record lists of important facts that I should know. I’d probably learn a lot from listening to him, right?)

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