In my last blog, I ruminated on developing hip osteoarthritis (OA) and the impact of living with OA, in particular its impact on my lifelong passion for running. I have adapted and over the summer, I became a cycologist (an alluring new kind of cerebral nuance on cyclist that I saw on a t-shirt with an obvious pun on psychologist) sporting a new electric assist bicycle, this one: It is a Gazelle Ultimate C80 53cm, Sienna Light in colour. In late June, it was mostly assembled and shipped from a company called Citrus Cycles in Chemainus, British Columbia. Behind it, on the wall is a shelf I built for the…

Today, on 28 June 2021 as if to reify and bolster my intention to start to write this blog, a book I had loaned was returned to me. It was this one: The title always reminds me of the start of every good story, ‘once upon a time.’ In another blog, I have alluded to this book briefly. First published in 1978, Parker’s fictionalized account of Quenton Cassidy’s long distance running discipline, devotion, and physical skill remains the best selling running novel to date with over 100,000 copies sold. There is a sequel, Again to Carthage (2008) and a prequel, Running in the Rain (2015), neither of which appealed to…

We saw him ambling along so many times, always with his three-prong walking cane and barely perceptible limp on one leg, perpetually wearing a slight grin, white peaked hat, grey, baggy pants, zippered-up jacket, and slightly rotund in overall appearance. For many years, his wife, equally affable was his walking companion as was his small dog – a terrier tethered to a retractable leash, if memory serves – best companions on his neighbourhood excursions. She died of cancer some years ago but his dog, consistently yipping to make his presence known while he uttered ‘now, now…’ with his grin undeterred, still  lived on a few more years. Annoying, to us, …

While I would describe myself more spiritual than religious, The Donkey poem below has always seemed so simply elegant, so elegantly simple. I first encountered it in grade 12, reading it in my copy of New Horizons: An Anthology of Short Poems, a book passed to me from my older sister complete with our scribbled notes in the margins of poems we studied 5 years apart in our educational process – I still have the book, tattered and treasured. The poem celebrates the beginning of the Christian Holy week, the Sunday before Easter and the last week of Lent – the day Christ rode peacefully, regally, and triumphantly into Jerusalem…

Montreal Snowshoe Club on Mount Royal, Montreal, QC, Notman composite, 1872, reprinted with permission Softly, silently, like the snow flakes upon which they trod, with the peculiar roll of the shoulders and jogging of the hips went the band of athletes, the livid torches illuminating their picturesque costumes, their bright turbans, their fleecy bashilisks [coats], and their cerulean tuques. Tramp, tramp like the stroke of fate went their webbed foot-falls. ~ Montreal Gazette, 16 January 1873. The idyllic, nocturnal snowshoeing picture above was duplicated and posted recently on Facebook as an indicator of a university professor’s notation to have his class study and discuss an article I wrote more than…