Archive for April, 2012|Monthly archive page

In Uncategorized on April 27, 2012 at 12:07 pm

27 Crescent Street

When I first began playing around with the idea of writing a novel for kids (mostly for my daughter but also for my younger self), I came across a poem titled Magic in my girl’s first-ever poetry gift, Shel Silverstein’s Where the Sidewalk Ends.

Magic became, for lack of a better way to describe it, the ‘mascot poem’ for my story.

I loved the rhythm and sing-song feel of it – not to mention the way that it brings in so many of the magical creatures of childhood – and the last two lines spoke to me like a call to action of sorts … it was time, it seemed to say, for me to conjure up a little magic myself.


Sandra’s seen a leprechaun

Eddie touched a troll,

Laurie danced with witches once,

Charlie found some goblins’ gold.

Donald heard a mermaid sing,

Susy spied an elf.

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Spring has sprung on my running trail

In #races, places, run reports, running on April 14, 2012 at 12:32 am

Spring is springing along my running trail

After barely running in two weeks, it felt good to get back out on the trail on such a beautiful day.

I’ve been lax about updates to my reading/writing/running story of late, but not for lack of running milestones. In preparing for the 10K Cooper River Bridge Run (March 31st), twice, I ran my longest distance ever (7 miles), and my knees survived that distance (I only limped for an hour or two). For me, covering 7 miles may as well have been a marathon. I had to slow down for a few walking breaks along the way (especially on the hills), but I’ll take it.

I was gratified to find that I can notch up my distance (as long as I do it slowly) without paying the price with knee pain or injury. Beyond that, going 7 miles took me to an entirely new area of the trail where I run, and it was beautiful.

I made it through the Bridge Run, too (6.2 miles). It started an hour late, I had no time for caffeine (this is a problem for an addict like me), and thanks to the delay, the sun was higher and the temperature much warmer. In the end, I was slow and my race was not too pretty (walked more than I’d hoped), but it was a beautiful morning, and I had the company of an upbeat, supportive friend (a “real” runner who is usually very fast and competitive, but hung back with me due to an injury); he was kind enough not to poke fun at my turtle-like pace.

And best of all, my 10-year-old was waiting at the finish line, as proud of me as if I had just run the New York City Marathon.

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