madcity girl

Earlier this month, I finished reading “Born to Run: A Hidden Tribe, Superathletes, and the Greatest Race the World Has Never Seen,” by Christopher McDougall. Armed with a highlighter and a pen, I tore through the book in just a few days. I marked any and all passages that struck a chord with me—be it because the words were informative, inspiring, humorous, or simply well said. This amounted to a text that is now fairly well underlined and highlighted. For now I’ll leave you with my favorites…

There’s something so universal about that sensation, the way running unites our two most primal impulses: fear and pleasure. We run when we’re scared, we run when we’re ecstatic, we run away from our problems and run around for a good time. p. 11

In terms of stress relief and sensual pleasure, running is what you have in your life before you have sex. The equipment and desire come factory installed; all you have to do is let ‘er rip and hang on for the ride. p. 12

If you really want to understand the Raramuri, you should have been there when this ninety-five-year-old man came hiking twenty-five miles over the mountain. Know why he could do it? Because no one every told him he couldn’t. No one ever told him he oughta be off dying somewhere in an old age home. You live up to your own expectations, man. -Micah True, p. 50

If some California hippie could go one hundred miles, how hard could it be? Besides, a normal race wouldn’t cut it; if Leadville was going to survive, it needed an event with serious holy-shit power. p. 59

Your body becomes so familiar with the cradle-rocking rhythm that you almost forget you’re moving. [Eventually,] you break through to that soft, half-levitating flow. You have to listen closely to the sound of your own breathing; be aware of how much sweat is beading on your back; make sure to treat yourself to cool water and a salty snack and ask yourself honestly and often, exactly how you feel. What could be more sensual than paying exquisite attention to your own body? -Ann Trason, p.69

Ultrarunning seemed to be an alternative universe where none of planet Earth’s rules applied: women were stronger than men; old men were stronger than youngsters; Stone Age guys in sandals were stronger than everybody. p. 79

Ultrarunners had no reason to cheat, because they had nothing to gain: no fame, no wealth, no medals. No one knew who they were, or cared who won their strange rambles through the woods. They didn’t even get prize money; all you get for winning an ultra is the same belt buckle as the guy who comes in last. p. 85

That was the real secret of the Tarahumara: they’d never forgotten what it felt like to love running. They remembered that running was mankind’s first fine art, our original act of inspired creation. Way before we were scratching pictures on caves or beating rhythms on hollow trees, we were perfecting the art of combining our breath and mind and muscles into fluid self-propulsion over wild terrain. p. 92

It wasn’t just the racing they loved; it was the thrill of exploring the brave new world of their own bodies. p. 112

When I’m out on a long run, the only thing that matters is finishing the run. For once, my brain isn’t going blehblehbleh all the time. Everything quiets down, and the only thing going on is pure flow. It’s just me and the movement and the motion. That’s what I love—just being a barbarian, running through woods -Jenn Shelton, p. 149

You don’t stop running because you get old. You get old because you stop running. -Jack Kirk, p. 202

Name any other athletic endeavor where sixty-four-year-olds are competing with nineteen-year-olds. Swimming? Boxing? Not even close. There’s something really weird about us humans; we’re not only really good at endurance running; we’re really good at it for a remarkably long time. -Dr. Dennis Bramble, p. 240

Just move your legs. Because if you don’t think you were born to run, you’re not only denying history. You’re denying who you are. -Dr. Dennis Bramble, p. 244

The worst thing you can give a runner midrace is false hope. What causes you to tense up is the unexpected; but as long as you know what you’re in for, you can relax and chip away at the job. p. 267

I’d get up at four-thirty in the morning, run twenty miles, and it would be a beautiful thing. Then I’d work all day and want to feel that way again. So I’d go home, drink a beer, eat some beans, and run some more. -Micah True, p. 279

I don’t want anyone to do anything except come run, party, dance, eat, and hang with us. Running isn’t about making people buy stuff. Running should be free, man. -Micah True, p. 287

I can’t even tell you how excited I am. Tonight I’m going to see Dave Eggers and Valentino Achak Deng, who are visiting UW-Madison as part of the Humanities Without Boundaries lecture series. The series seeks to bring “world-renowned scholars to Madison whose work represents the best of the humanities and of scholarship that crosses traditional disciplinary boundaries.” It’s exactly the sort of intellectual energy that makes it so enjoyable to both work at a university and live in a major college town.

Dave Eggers is one of my favorite authors. He has written six books, including the bestselling, lightly-fictionalized memoir, A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius. Eggers also co-wrote with Spike Jonze the screenplay for Where the Wild Things Are, and authored the just-released adult novel based on the children’s book by Maurice Sendak. And Dave Eggers is the founder and editor of literary journal McSweeny’s!

Tonight’s event focuses on What is the What, a 2006 “fictionalized autobiography” by Eggers based on the real life story of Valentino Achak Deng, a Sudanese refugee and member of the Lost Boys of Sudan—the 27,000 boys who were displaced or orphaned during the Second Sudanese Civil War (1983-2005). Fifteen years of these boys’ lives were consumed by fleeing from the war (walking hundreds of miles to cross the border and reach international relief camps in Ethiopia and Kenya—enduring starvation, wild animals, and government attack), and desperately clinging to hope that their families were still alive. Somewhere.

The war was one of the longest and deadliest in recent history. Nearly two million people were killed by government troops (frighteningly, the conflict seems far from over). In 2001, about 3,800 Lost Boys resettled in the United States, where they are now scattered around 38 cities. Deng was resettled in Atlanta at the time, where he now runs a foundation devoted to building schools in southern Sudan. All proceeds from the book go to the foundation and help to aid the Sudanese in America and Sudan.

I purchased and started reading the book this past weekend. It’s captivating in a way that is so uniquely Dave Eggers. I have many more pages to read, but I’m already hooked. For more background on the Sudanese Civil War, and based on a recommendation from a friend, I also rented the documentary God Grew Tired of Us, a film that intimately explores the lives and spirit of three “Lost Boys” who leave their homeland and create new lives in the United States. I experienced such a wide range of emotions during the film—horror, anger, sadness, hope, and fear. I was alternatively crying and laughing.

Without a doubt, tonight’s event should be pretty incredible. I can’t wait to see Dave Eggers in action, hear more from Valentino Achak Deng on the current state of affairs in Sudan, and also hear about their collaborative process in writing the novel.

Last week I saw a preview for the movie The Lovely Bones, which is based on the critically acclaimed novel by Alice Sebold. The movie is set to release in December. You can watch the trailer here.

I picked up the novel around a year ago from a used bookstore, but it’s been gathering dust on a bookshelf in my apartment ever since. I remember obsering my friend Karen reading the book two years ago. I still remember her dramatic reaction upon reading just the first page. It seemed impressive to me at the time that a book could so quickly shock and captivate a reader.

Since I was due to begin a new book anyways, and becauase I had been so taken by the movie preview, I decided to finally get started on The Lovely Bones earlier this week. I finished one hundred pages that first day. The thing about this novel is that there is no easing into the storyline, no comfortable intoductions—there’s simply no time or reason for pleasantries. The novel begins with an atrocious crime recounted by the teenage victim herself, and the reader is taken along on a rollercoaster ride of the aftermath.

In simplest terms, the novel is about a 14-year old girl named Susie Salmon who is brutually raped and murdered by a neighborhood man in 1973. She watches from heaven as her family and friends deal with their grief and her killer moves on with his life. She is forced to weigh her desire for vengeance against her wish for her family to heal and move on with their lives.

I’m now about mid-way though the book, and am absolutely wrapped up in the storyline. I have to force myself to put the book down and actually go to sleep at a decent hour each night. As in Kristin, you have to get up and run at 5:30 a.m. Put the damn book down.

But I can’t wait to finish the book, and then to see the movie in December. What a treat that will be to see director Peter Jackon’s version on the big screen.

I have a lot of catching up to do on book reviews. I figured it might be easiest to start with the most recent book I’ve read and work back from there. Last week, I finished The School of Essential Ingredients, a novel by Erica Bauermeister. My friend Karen checked it out for me at the library last month, after it was featured on NPR in a segment entitled “Independent Booksellers Pick Summer’s Best Reads.” I’m guessing Karen thought the cooking theme might resonate nicely with me. As someone who enjoys reading cookbooks for fun, I’d say it was a good pick.

Karen had first tried to reserve the book through the UW campus and Madison Public Library systems, but apparently there were already 70+ person waitlists. A week later, Karen was at the library in the small lake resort town of Green Lake—and there it was, prominently displayed on a front table. Funny how something is featured on NRP, and Madison residents go batty. Elsewhere, it’s just another book.

Karen told me that the librarian described it as a “sweet book.” I think that’s probably the best description. Although it was a little too “pollyanna” for my tastes, it was a nice summer read and my inner-foodie especially loved the evocative food descriptions, such as the following:

Claire lifted the crab to her mouth, closing her eyes one more time, shutting out the room around her. The meat touched her tongue and the taste ran through her, full and rich and complicated, dense as a long, deep kiss. She took another bite and felt her feet settle into the floor and the rest of her flow into a river of ginger and garlic and lemon and wine. She stood, even when that bite, and the next and the next were gone, feeling the river wind its way to her fingers, her toes, her belly, the base of her spine, melting all the pieces of her into something warm and golden.

Seriously. Has crab eating ever sounded so orgasmic?

In terms of the story line, the book is about eight people from various backgrounds and stages in life who come together for a weekly cooking class. The novel details their various life stories, and describes how the transendent experience of cooking and eating great food, coupled with the relationships developed during the course of the class, transform each of their lives.

If you love food and are looking for a “sweet” summer read that will leave you hungry for more, The School of Essential Ingredients is a nice option.

Awesome profile of Nora Ephron in last week’s New Yorker. So in-depth and well-written. Author Ariel Levy does an incredible job of capturing the huge presence and personality that defines Nora Ephron. This is one of the best profiles I’ve read in the New Yorker all year.

And the foodie in me is extremely eager for the August 7 release of Ephron’s new movie, “Julie & Julia,” which is based on Julia Child’s memoir “My Life in France,” and food-blogger Julie Powell’s single-year quest to cook every recipe from Julia Child’s classic “Mastering the Art of French Cooking.” Word on the street is that Meryl Streep nailed Julia Child…

This evening I’m heading to dinner and an author event with a few friends. It may prove to be one of the more eccentric readings I’ve attended in recent years.

Michael Perry, author of Population: 485, is a memoirist whose latest essays (Coop) depict the trials and tribulations of his young family’s year on a 37-acre working farm. Amazing how far writers will venture for new material…

Apparently the essays weave back and forth between Perry’s unique childhood (interestingly, his city-raised, fundamentalist Christian sect-member parents took in more than a hundred foster children while running their own dairy farm) and the daily adventures of balancing chores on the farm with a family and writing career.

Perry also maintains a blog, aptly titled sneezingcow, which details his latest family farm adventures. Should be an interesting event…I’m secretly hoping the night will include a petting zoo and a little song and dance (apparently the multi-talented Michael Perry also moonlights as a singer/songwriter). Either way, I think it’s fascinating to meet writers and hear more about their lives and artistic process, and just observe how they portray themselves and convey their work in person.

Having recently read Nancy Horan’s Loving Frank, followed by a visit to Frank Lloyd Wright’s Taliesin estate, I found this article in yesterday’s Wisconsin State Journal to be both extremely timely and interesting…

Mystery in Taliesin graveyard: Stone appears, then disappears

Frank’s legacy lives on…the saga continues, the secrets unfold. I love it.

06.30.09

Last week I pre-ordered Wilco’s self-titled LP, a first edition 180-gram vinyl pressing manufactured in Germany that boasts a gate-fold cover. As a bonus, each vinyl copy also includes a copy of the album on CD. Cheers. You can pre-order your copy here.

The broadcast version of This American Life Live, “Return to the Scene of the Crime” is now available for download online. As I mentioned in a previous post, the live version of the popular NRP radio show beamed via satellite to more than 400 theaters nationwide on April 23. It was the second consecutive year NPR has hosted the show live in theaters.  

Luckily I scored a coveted ticket to the sold-out show at Madison Point Cinema. The two-hour show was performed live onstage at New York University by several favorite contributors: Dan Savage, Starlee Kine (my brother has a big crush on Sarlee. But then again, who doesn’t?), Mike Birbiglia, and Joss Whedon—creator of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

I could go on and on about the show, and how incredible it was to experience my favorite radio show performed on stage, and to share it—the laughter and tears—with other listeners in my community. To see Ira Glass on stage expertly working the multiple elements of his sound equipment—balancing his script, taped interviews, live interviews, music and other sound-bytes, was enthralling. And to see the emotion on Dan’s face as he recounted  the last few minutes of his mother’s life and experience the unique charm and sparkle of Starlee Kine—it was all just incredibly magnetic. Like I said, I could go on and on. And I have, for anyone and everyone who will listen to me. I should also point out that my friend Karen scored tickets to see the dress-rehearsal of the show at the Chicago Theatre, for which I was extremly jealous.

So…if  you’re not already a regular listener, you must at least check out this week’s show—”Return to the Scene of the Crime.” You can experience it in one of two ways—this week’s radio broadcast (available for download online). Or, the on-stage version, which because of popular demand, will re-broadcast in theaters nationwide on May 7. For more information and to purchase tickets, go here.

On Monday night I finished reading Loving Frank, a historical novel by Nancy Horan based on the true story of the relationship between Frank Lloyd Wright and Mamah Borthwick Cheney during the early part of the 20th century.

Nancy Horan weaves together a fascinating and powerful love story, which is both extraordinarily well-researched and written. It’s hard to believe it’s her first novel, and I also found it interesting to learn that it was an eight-year project.

For the most part, Loving Frank is the perfect summer beach read—light, yet still thought-provoking and mesmerizing. However, you may want to save the end of the novel until you get home from the beach. The Taliesen murder scene, although not depicted in overtly graphic terms, is extremely disturbing, as is any senseless murder.

In some ways, Loving Frank reminded me of The Devil in the White City, by Erik Larson. Similarities include ties to the windy city, the showcasing of great—almost mythical—American architects at the turn of the century, plots that involve cold-blooded murder, the questioning of gender roles in society, and writing that is both confident and polished. Although Larson’s work is nonfiction, and Horan’s is historical fiction, both are page-turners based on historical record to the extent possible. Since Nancy Horan had limited source material to work with in order to paint an accurate picture of Mamah Borthwick, perhaps she did need to stretch her imagination just a tad further.

I very much enjoyed Loving Frank. I found Mamah to be an extraordinarily fascinating character—I often found myself wondering what I would have done in her place. Regardless of whether or not you agree with the decisions she made, there’s no doubt she lived with great courage and passion.

I’m also endlessly fascinated by the life and work of Frank Lloyd Wright, and never miss an opportunity to learn more about the extraordinarily talented, yet complicated man. I actually have plans to tour Taliesin early next month, the summer home of Frank Lloyld Wright, which was prominently featured in the novel. Taliesen was originally built in Spring Green, Wisconsin in 1911 during the hayday of Frank and Mamah’s relationship. The existing Taliesen residence is the third home built on Wright’s ancestral land after fire consumed the first two. I’m excited to see the beautiful, rolling hills of Wisconsin from the lens of an architectural genius, and to experience first-hand the focal point of Frank and Mamah’s passionate love affair.