Ode to squeaky brakes

Oh, brakes. How much I cringe at you when I try to squeeze you inconspicuously and, instead, with your uncommonly loud squealing, terrorize some hapless pedestrian crossing the street, causing them to jump in fright. How much, sometimes, I wish that the ubiquitous tale of the squeaky disc brake was …

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Athleticism vs body size

This morning while I was running around at Mt Tabor — a super wet, totally perfect, puddle-splashing run that made it feel like I had the whole park to myself, just me and the kinglets and thrush — I was thinking about this book I’m reading, A Beautiful Work in …

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