My friend Carol Reeve just joined the 100 marathons club. That’s L.A. to D.C. That’s Madrid to Moscow. That’s amazing. Carol is the most determined person I know. She once ran a marathon in which she ducked around police barricades and dodged police to finish a race that had been officially called due to dangerously
I’m sick and tired of being the good guy. Ever said it? Ever thought it? If you haven’t, just live longer. Liars win in courtrooms. Backstabbers win in boardrooms. Cheaters curry favor. Those living in chains take great lengths to make sure you do too. And there you sit, asking hard questions and picking up real
End of school tyranny had us under its thumb. Finals, papers, concerts, and cramming rained down on the Man Cub and writing deadlines had me in their crosshairs, too. “I’m off to the grocery store,” I announced to my then 15-year-old son. He nodded and I breezed out the door. Time was short, my list
“Start walking.” Those two words burn a hole on page 154 of “The Polygamist’s Daughter,” a chilling child’s eye account of life in a cult led by a 1970s self-proclaimed prophet dubbed the “Mormon Manson.” “The Polygamist’s Daughter” will take you on a 300-page journey from all that’s awful about this world to all that’s
My friend Carol Reeve logs a lot of miles. She has traveled all the way from L.A. to D.C., or for those with more European sensibilities, from Madrid to Moscow. On foot. And that’s only during the actual marathons she has run. Factor in her four to five days a week of training – multiplied
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