2018 week three

Book Read:
3. Nick Cave: Mercy on Me — Reinhard Kleist

Kilometres Ran:
week three — 30.9

To date: 145 KM

We could have a debate about whether or not a graphic novel count as “a book” for the sake of reading 95 or 52 books in a year but there doesn’t seem to be much debate amongst the #95Books crowd whether poetry books count, and I’ve read and “counted” chapbooks that took a lot less time and effort to read than Mercy on Me. I even “read” and counted a collection of concrete poetry (Clean Sails). Though, I did not count Christian Bök’s MCV. I had to draw the line somewhere. And speaking of drawing lines, I really enjoyed Kleist’s visual biography of Nick Cave. I consider myself a Cave fan, though reading Mercy had forced me to confront the fact that I’m rather thin on Birthday Party knowledge, which has piqued my interest to revisit. I’m also now curious about Kleist’s Johnny Cash book (ahem, graphic novel), although I doubt any Cash biography is going to better Cash. Also, and no surprise, I learned that Cave is kind of a dick. I suspected, but don’t think I cared before. I don’t think I care now. I like his music and as a grown up I’m capable of separating his art from his inreallifeness. But I admit that most of what I know and like is contemporary to when I started listening to him i.e., Grinderman and late 2000s Bad Seeds. I went as far back as Murder Ballads because you have to. But aside from the appearance of “Higgs Boson Blues” Kleist’s Cave biography doesn’t cross the millennium. But for me to complain about that would be like complaining that Cash doesn’t focus enough on the American Recordings stuff. But for different reasons.

Gimme Gimme Shock Treatment

I went to physiotherapy this week for a check in on my knee and while there I mentioned in passing that I was having a pain in my left shin, which turns out to be medial tibial stress syndrome, which is just the fancy word for shin splints, which apparently if not properly cared for could lead to a stress fracture, which has forced me to reconsider the timeline of some of my 2018 goals. Burn the whiches. Dr. Physio believes that I’ve aggravated my left calf by (consciously or subconsciously) compensating for my right knee, and the treatment is more exercises and less running. Suffice it to say, very frustrating with less than a month until the First Half half marathon. Suffice it to also say, I will not be running a sub 1:30 half marathon on February 11. Also throws a wrench on the sub 3:15 BMO Marathon training plan. Other than that it’s been a great week.

Leaving on a Jetplane

Books Read:
16. 10:04 — Ben Lerner

Kilometres Ran:
week nineteen — 55.6

To date: 1,088 km

Sitting in YVR waiting to board KLM to Prague by way of Amsterdam for a week and a half in the Czech Republic and I’m optimistic that I’ll finish Lerner on the plane. But I also have the new issues of Playboy and The New Yorker. So we’ll see. I’m way behind. I think at this time last year I was in the 30s for books read. Mind you I read a lot of poetry and so far this year I think that I’ve read none. I have a few on the to read pile. I think that The Hatred of Poetry is the shortest book I’ve read so far in 2017. If your reading recollection is better than my writing recollection then feel free to correct me. PS — the YVR Wifi is awful.

It still feels as though the BMO was yesterday. Feels is probably the wrong word, because I think that my body has mostly recovered. I just find it strange to think that it was ten days ago. I haven’t been running quite as intensely, or as often, or as far, but they’ve been relatively quick. Quick for me. I’m looking forward to running around Prague and maybe Brno, and then when I get back I have four weeks before the Scotiabank Half, and I’ll rather ambitiously shooting for a 1:39, which would be a full seven minutes off my race PR. If Strava is to be believed, I did 1:41 in training for the BMO, and 1:41 in the first half of the BMO. So it seems within the realm of possibilities.

forty two by forty two week seven and eight

Books Read[ing]:
14. The Mercy Journals — Claudia Casper
15. The Hatred of Poetry — Ben Lerner

Kilometres Ran:
week sixteen — 57.1
week seventeen — 43.9

To date: 974 km

I left the house for something other than running and ended up at the Paper Hound bookstore for a poetry reading hosted by Amy De’ath featuring Jeff Derksen, Danielle LaFrance, Juliane Okot Bitek and Tim Atkins, and along with Anne Carson’s behemoth chapbook collection Float and some really fantastic bits and pieces Tim brought from Crater Press I also picked up a cheap copy of The Hatred of Poetry because it was a poetry reading after all. It was also a part of the too short farewell tour for Amy and her partner Sean O’Brien as both prepared to evacuate Vancouver at the end of April. I regret not getting to know both of them better. I knew [of] Amy from publishing her work in The Capilano Review, but I actually met Sean first. He and Amy hosted a lit gathering of sorts one September evening. I remember it well as Colin Smith had just approved the final typesetting and design I’d done for Multiple Bippies and gave to go ahead to send to press. Donato Mancini, CUE Books’ guest editor for the collection, suggested we go celebrate at a friend’s place nearby mine in the West End. Sean answered the door. Donato did his best tidsoptimist impression. A couple years later, and Vancouver’s loss. Such is life.

I’m on the taper according to the schedule and it seems from the people that I follow on Strava that seem to be gearing up for the same event that I am I am the only one. It’s become difficult to trust the training plan but I’m doing my best. And I’ve been trying something new: yoga. Not really yoga. Stretching. I don’t ever stretch but I’ve started so now don’t ever is a lie. I did a Google search for yoga for runners and I found this article 5 Yoga Poses You Should Do After Every Run in Women’s Running and I’m pretty fine with gender neutrality plus I don’t think Utthan Pristhasana knows or cares if between my left and right hip flexors there is lady or dude stuff. Anyway, I like it. It hurts and I am the least flexible but it sure feels good afterwards. I ended my run today near the corner of West Pender and Bute near what will in one week be the finish line of the BMO Marathon. It also feels good. I think I’m ready.