Today is the last day to sign up for this session of my How To Tell One Story online writing workshop! As of my writing this on Wednesday evening, there were still a couple spots available. We’ll open registrations again in August, but this is it until then. If you’re curious about writing, or want to write and just need a framework and some “kind and encouraging lessons” (as a past student put it), you can read more about the course and/or sign up at this link: semi-rad.com/courses

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Speaking of creativity and storytelling, I ended up really liking what this video had to say about “original ideas”—not that we shouldn’t chase original ideas (as the title says), but that your specific perspective and effort is what makes something unique, so you might as well try. (video)

Maybe you weren’t staring out the window this morning thinking, “You know what I could use today? A really beautiful poem about onions.” Or: Maybe that’s why you read this newsletter: the off chance you’ll encounter a really beautiful poem about onions.

Trust me: Take 60 seconds, or 90 seconds (OK, maybe more like three to four minutes) and scroll through the photos created by the winners of the Milky Way Photographer of the Year Awards (via Kottke.org).

This is not a new piece from newsletter sponsor Precision Fuel & Hydration, but I recently wrote about feeling lucky to have not had many major injuries in the almost 10 years I’ve been running ultramarathons, so it was interesting to go through Damian Hall’s bullet points in Ultra training: Is it possible to stay injury free? and see if I could find any similarities to my own training. Especially since he wrote it when he was 45, didn’t start running until his mid-30s, is a dad of two kids, and is really fast. (reminder that the above link gives you 15% off your first purchase at PFH)

I have a copy of cartoonist Jason Chatfield’s new book, You’re Not A Real Dog Owner Until… on my desk right now, and sure, I’d advise you to buy a copy for yourself, but I think a better piece of advice might be to buy it for someone on your holiday shopping list and just hang onto it until the holidays rolls around, at which point you will be feeling quite a bit more pressure to find a gift for a person who loves their dog(s) but also loves laughing their ass off.

I have read a lot of essays about AI in the past few months, and no one has made sense of it better than (no surprise) Oliver Burkeman, in this piece about “navigating by aliveness.” A snippet: “I have two things to say about that, the first of which is that I don’t believe it: that aliveness is so central to meaningful human experience that there’ll always be a market for those who can cultivate it, embed it in what they create, foster it in institutions and organisations, and bring people together to experience it.”

I thought the headline on this BBC story about “people stuck using ancient Windows computers” was intriguing, and it was interesting discovering how much important stuff in our world relies on super-old systems, but the real gem for me was about three-quarters of the way through story, in which I learned that Washington State University-Vancouver has an Electronic Literature Lab, which sounds amazing: “Founded and directed by Dr. Dene Grigar, the Electronic Literature Lab (ELL) contains over 80 vintage Macintosh & PC computers, dating back from 1977, vintage software, peripherals, and a library of over 300 works of electronic literature and other media.” As in, there’s no way to view the art pieces except on the computers preserved at the ELL.

I don’t think you need a reason to have holiday lights up all year, but this one is particularly, inarguably, heartwarmingly (is that a word?) valid.

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I have recommended the 1996 Geena Davis + Samuel L. Jackson film The Long Kiss Goodnight before in this newsletter, so it felt really good to have a YouTube film critic with a large following endorse it as “one of the most underrated and overlooked action movies of the 1990s,” as well as explain why it’s so good (and why Mitch is one of Samuel L. Jackson’s favorite characters he’s played!). (video)

Years ago, I was climbing a multi-pitch route with a French friend who was pretty fluent in English, and we paused at a belay to eat a snack and drink some water. Simon pulled a small stuff sack from his pack and from the stuff sack a few food items, including the most battered energy bar I had ever seen. He held it up and said to me, “Theese ees my friend. He goes weeth me everywhere.” I of course understood exactly what he meant, as I, like every one, had the one bar that I kept bringing on hikes and climbs, but never eating, because I had better options. It was like an emergency ration that I kind of knew I would never eat unless I was on the verge of starvation. If you know what I mean, you will love artist Cy Whitling’s latest comic, “The Eternal Granola Bar.”

I was clicking through Substack yesterday, wanting to find someone who wrote an actual story, a narrative of something that happened in real life. It wouldn’t have to be anything spectacular, just a story. And I found it. It was titled “I Agreed to Help Pick Up a Couch and Ended Up Participating in a Street Performance” and it made my day. If you read it, I am betting you will say to yourself, “Yes, I know or have met someone like Moonbeam.”

If you are from the Midwest or have just spent some time there, perhaps you might enjoy this short poem by New Yorker poetry editor and T.S. Eliot Prize winner Kevin Young, “Ode to the Midwest.”

I have spent some time over the past few months thinking about AI and how it’s going to affect (or is already affecting) our lives, and I am not sure I have much of a measure of understanding of it, except that I am trying to embrace things that make me feel human. And I think this piece, titled “The Who Cares Era,” captures something similar to what I’m feeling. (via Kottke.org)

Many of the links in this newsletter lead you to videos or articles that require a few minutes to fully experience. This Reddit post will take you six seconds to watch and will provide a small bit of wholesome joy.

I have mentioned before in this newsletter that I have been enjoying the live DJ mixes I often find on YouTube, but I think the production of this one might be my favorite yet: camcorder footage, a few different angles, a little bit of video editing, and a bunch of R&B tracks (and some live drumming). Plus the title is “the homies mixing R&B and chilling with a pineapple.”

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I have a million unread emails in my inbox and I’m doing this instead, I say to myself, as I try to not fall off the ladder—or at least remember to let go of the trigger of the circular saw before I do fall off the ladder. 

I also should probably clean the bathroom, start writing that thing for next week, research that other thing, put the new wheel on Jay’s bike, call an arborist about that tree limb, make an appointment for a haircut, and do a bunch of other stuff that would require me to actually sit down at my desk.

Alas. Today, I have chosen to make wood shapes. Or, more precisely, I am creating a small building.

At some point last winter or spring, Hilary and I had a conversation in which I believed she said it would be fun if Jay had a “playhouse” in our backyard. So, I started planning to build one—at first, in my head, and then in April I think, I made a crude sketch in a notebook with some measurements. I then lost the notebook somewhere. 

When I announced my intentions to begin building the playhouse, Hilary was surprised, saying that she thought we had talked about a “stick fort” somewhere in the backyard. Which is a much different project. You say to-may-to, I say to-mah-to.

Here’s what I have so far: 

In the course of owning our house and building lots of Unaesthetic But Functional Furniture in the past five years, I have hoarded accrued a rather large stash of leftover wood. Last winter, I realized that my collection of old wood has started to take up way too much room in our garage, and that I should do something about it. Inside me is a crusty old man who owns a box containing ten pounds of old mismatched screws he has saved JUST IN CASE, because you never know. Leftover screws are one thing, but leftover wood takes up a lot of space. 

So I’m building this playhouse. Jay can play in it until he outgrows it, at which point we can use it to store shovels and garden implements. (I’m building it tall enough for an average adult to stand up inside)

The playhouse looks the way it does because as a hoarder of wood, I am not allowing myself to buy new wood. I am trying to use up wood from my collection, and if I need wood, I can buy it from one of our two local reused building materials stores, Home ReSource and Waste Less Works. 

Am I just procrastinating my real work? Sure. Does this feel more like “real work” than what I do for a living? Physically, yes: My hands are tired, I get the occasional splinter, I get a little dirty. When I finish this project, a small building will exist, and that will be quite satisfying. The audience for the work is one person who is three feet tall. I will not be paid for this work, I will not keep track of “likes,” or any sort of “engagement” or ROI. 

A while back, I was talking to a friend who’s also a dad and he said he wished his kids saw him doing something more concrete—he was working for a startup tech company, when his kids saw Dad work, they saw him sitting in front of a laptop, doing Zoom meetings or clicking and typing. I think about this conversation a lot.

Jay is turning three years old soon, and he rarely sees me work, since his curious/chaotic presence near a computer or iPad is generally, uh, obstructive—and I also hope he grows up thinking life is outside of electronic devices, not inside them, however naive that might be of me. 

Another quote I think about often: My friend Forest saying to me, “No one likes to see someone they respect staring at a phone.” 

I don’t know at what age my job (what I do for a living) will really make sense to Jay, because a lot of days, moving words and shapes around on glowing screens of various sizes doesn’t feel that “real” to me either. But holy shit is he interested in hammers, and nails, and climbing ladders, and using clamps, and handing me screws. 

If you asked Jay right now what his dad does, he’d probably tell you that I run, ride a bike, cook, wash dishes, clean up potty training accidents, and drive a car every once in a while. And if we’re really partying, Dad operates power tools (including Jay’s favorite, the vacuum cleaner), hammers nails, drills holes, cuts wood, and builds a few things. Including this playhouse, which I imagine will be kind of ugly when I finish it. 

But making it pretty isn’t the point. I’m not sure I know what the point is, but I heard this exchange between Austin Kleon and Ryan Holiday on Holiday’s podcast a few months back and I think it validates all the time I’m spending in the backyard with a miter saw, a bunch of old 2 x 4s, and a hammer and nails.  

Austin Kleon: I am just such a proponent of everyone practicing some kind of art form no matter how badly, because I always think that time spent doing something creative, on your own, or as a hobby or something like that just means you’re not out there on the street bothering someone or wreaking havoc. … 

I think you’re looking at a culture in which hobbies have disappeared. Like what do people do? 

Ryan Holiday: They spend it on their phone. 

Austin Kleon: They spend it on their phone, raging on Twitter, or like getting pilled on 4chan, or Reddit or whatever. … I’m just like really interested in this idea of hobbies disappearing. 

Ryan Holiday: Like imagine a world where Elon Musk got really into triathlons instead of Twitter. 

Austin Kleon: This clown needs something to do. My hope for that man is like, get him into woodworking. He’s a middle-aged guy—he didn’t figure out, dude, you’re supposed to go fishing now, or like get deeply into World War II books about history or something. 

Ryan Holiday: Because you still have that manic energy, that obsession, but it will feast on itself. Like you get to a point where it can’t go into more work. And if it doesn’t go into something productive or at least socially adaptive, it will destroy you.  

Obviously the fate of the world isn’t riding on whether I have a “real hobby” or if I spend most of my life online. But if Jay ever draws a picture of his dad, I would love it if he didn’t draw a stick figure staring at a phone. 

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If you enjoyed this piece, please consider supporting my work. 

This video is my first time seeing a sweep boat in action, and my first reaction was “DAMN that thing looks unwieldy,” so it’s really cool to watch someone expertly navigating it on Idaho’s Salmon River. (video)

I don’t know if I’ve previously mentioned the Rotating Sandwiches website in this newsletter before, but I have to believe that if you’re reading this newsletter, you know a) someone who would appreciate the Rotating Sandwiches website OR b) someone who would be somewhat confused but also entertained if you just sent them a link to the Rotating Sandwiches website with no context.

I’ve been enjoying literary agent Alia Hanna Habib’s Substack for a while now, but especially this post, Productive Terror: Ten Very Different Writers on How They Got Their Books Done, and especially this bit, from author Annie Hartnett: “I use a sticker chart and give myself a sticker for every 500 words written. It helps to have a visual representation of how much progress you’re making. We are big on sticker charts in the Accountability Workshops, and we’ll do sticker swaps in the mail. I also eat a lot of M&Ms while I write … I read a study in college that candy helps you concentrate and I haven’t questioned it since. Basically the tools I use to finish a book are the exact same ones you use to potty-train a toddler.”

We had one hot day in Missoula last weekend, sort of a warning shot/appetizer for summer. I am thankful that having a baby (and now a toddler) has precipitated a change in my running routine and made me a morning runner most days, but I’m still reminding myself that summer is about 100 days of warm temps. Two things I learned from this article about heat training from newsletter sponsor Precision Fuel & Hydration: a) your brain can basically rewire itself to make you feel more comfortable in the heat and b) heat adaptation can actually increase your psychological tolerance to heat.  I am using Precision’s PH 1000 packets in my water bottles on most of my runs since I tend to sweat a lot no matter what the temperature is, and if you’re looking for an electrolyte drink for running or biking or hiking without a ton of calories/carbs, I recommend them (either of these links will give you 15% off your first PFH order).

Did I read through this entire list of The 100 Best Sports Moments of the Quarter Century? I did not. I did make it through an embarrassingly high number of them, though, and I appreciate that The Ringer included the prompt “How would you explain this moment to someone who’s never watched sports?” for the writers explaining many, if not all of the moments.

This is a not that big of a deal but it is a very satisfying video of a new bike tunnel under Zurich.

Hilary and I have barely watched any shows since Jay was born (I’m not complaining), but we have made time for The Bear. Maybe because we both worked in restaurants for years, or maybe because it’s a good show? Anyway, Season 4 is coming soon (June 25) and the trailer dropped a couple weeks ago. (video)

If for some reason you want to read a deep dive on the technology behind and the history of air sickness bags (aka emesis bags), like I apparently did on Thursday, here you go. (Largest barf bag collection in the world, 6,290 bags, belongs to Niek Vermeulen of the Netherlands, but that number is from 2012)

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VERY IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT:
We’re doing a limited-run water bottle starting today. It has my “What Does Your Urine Say About You?” Chart printed on the side. Is it a reminder to stay hydrated? (yes!) Is it a pee bottle? (up to you!) Is it a conversation piece? (yes!) Can you get one after June 20th, 2025? No. Pre-orders start today, and will close next Friday, June 30th, so if you want one, or know someone who would love one as a gift, here’s where you can order one (or several). Orders will start shipping the first week of August.

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I happened to catch this wonderful short film about the women dory boat guides of the Grand Canyon when I was at Mountainfilm a few weeks ago, and it was one of my favorites. Very excited it’s now on YouTube. (video)

I’ve been reading Michael Estrin’s substack for a while now, and I often find myself laughing at the situations and characters he encounters while doing normal things like going to Chipotle, or in the case of his most recent post, trying to check in for his appointment at the chiropractor. As my wife charitably says whenever we encounter puzzling behavior, “there are many ways of being in the world,” which is way better than my reaction, which is more of a bewildered look, throwing up my hands, and muttering some expletives.

The video for the Talking Heads’ “Psycho Killer” came up in my YouTube feed last week, but I barely glanced at the thumbnail and didn’t click it. And then Hilary sent me the link to it a few days later, and I realized that it was a new video for a 47-year-old song. As one commenter put it: “They waited until Saoirse Ronan was born to make the video. Very professional” (video)

My neighbor poked his head over the fence a few days ago, when the high was in the low 90s here, and said he was surprised that something about me being outside in a long-sleeve shirt. I explained that yes, I am a huge fan of long sleeves in the summer since I spend so much time outside (running). They’re not for everyone, but if I have not used up my lifetime allotment of exposing my skin to the sun, I am damn close, so I prefer long sleeves to slathering on sunscreen (which, if I’m honest, I’m too lazy to do a lot of the time). So I own a lot of sun hoodies, which also protect my neck and ears. My most recent favorite is the Dunescape Mega print one I got from newsletter sponsor Janji—it’s stretchy, the arms are long enough for me to slip my thumbs into the thumb loops and cover my hands, and the pattern means I’m not going to trash it so visibly by wearing it for trail runs under my running vest. It’s available in a bunch of colors in a men’s version and in a women’s version (both M’s and W’s versions have the Dunescape Mega print if you’re into it)

She texted the wrong number asking for advice on what to wear on a first date with a guy, the wrong number guy responded and told her yes, green was as good choice, she wore green, the first date went well, they stayed in touch, and … well, I won’t ruin the ending for you.

I believe Japan does a few things (many things?) better than the United States, and creative manhole covers are one of those things. I was elated but not surprised to see that Major League Baseball collaborated with local artists to create custom manhole covers in honor of the 12 Japanese and Japanese-American players actively playing in the league right now. (thanks, Mitsu)

Look, I am not saying everyone should drink five or more cups of coffee per day, but I’m also not saying people shouldn’t. Anne Kadet, whose Substack is a treasure, interviewed a handful people who drink prodigious amounts of coffee, and it made me feel both happy, less weird, and less alone. And also validated in my choice to make a 9-cup moka pot yesterday afternoon.

Every once in a while—OK, probably every other week—there is a McSweeney’s post that captures my failure to function as a human being in a very specific way, and I read it and laugh, at the story, but more at myself. This most recent one, Welcome To My Well-Stocked Pantry Of Empty Boxes, really hit home just as I was pouring the crumbs of a box of crackers into my mouth while standing in my kitchen.

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We were interviewing a writer whose work I admire
and he mentioned that someone told him

that we now have the technology
that can write articles for you, super fast

And he said Wait, no, what I enjoy is writing the article,
not holding it in my hand and saying “this is the thing that I did”

I have nothing against minced garlic in a jar
but what I really like is when I have the time

to chop the garlic myself
when I tell myself that it’s important

Important enough to take two minutes
to get out a knife my friend Mitsu gave me,

And the cutting board my brother made for me,
and peel the cloves and cut them into tiny pieces

It is two fingers on my wrist checking for a pulse
and one small, symbolic middle finger

to optimizing everything we possibly can
just because we can

Chopping the garlic is of course objectively harder
than using the minced stuff from the jar

but maybe part of me likes it because I think
it makes the story of the meal I cooked better

Of course, not everything good in life is difficult
there’s eating pizza, of course

and naps and and looking at sunsets
that happen without any effort from me

But everybody has their own list of things
that are, to them, Worth The Effort

Like making your own coffee or taking a photo
or raising a kid or remodeling a house

I guess what we’re all asking ourselves
nowadays, in our Brave New World

(and isn’t it just a Somewhat Braver, Newer
World than last year, and the year before that)

is which parts of being human
we want to fast-forward through

and which parts of being human
we want to keep doing with our selves

I have put skins on skis and skied uphill
right next to a perfectly functioning chairlift

And I have hiked to the top of a peak
that has a paved road all the way to its summit

Climbing using only my legs and feet
and climbing using the aid of a machine

well, most people would say,
those are two different experiences

Or are they two different mountains?

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If you enjoyed this piece, please consider supporting my work. 

I haven’t listened to a Moth story in a long time, but I somehow found out The Moth had a YouTube channel, and this was the first story I watched. This guy isn’t famous or anything, but I love this story, and his mom sounds like a real one. File under: Suprisingly Emotional Stories About Baseball. (video)

It’s a good question: Is it possible to buy a Bob Ross painting? I mean, it should be easy, shouldn’t it? But no, in fact it is not easy, and it is possible, and there’s a reason it’s difficult. But my favorite line from this whole article is from the gallery owner who finds Bob Ross paintings and buys them from the owners, who are mostly regular folks. He says, “Most families that have these paintings are not millionaires, and the money is very impactful in their lives.”

I don’t know if someone might say this is “political,” but I kind of assume that if you read this newsletter, you probably a) think public lands are a good idea and b) would be opposed to selling them. I won’t type out the details in my own words, but the sale of public lands is essentially back on the table, and you can call your senators and encourage them to not support it. If you have never done this before, 5Calls makes it super-easy (here’s a link to their page on this specific issue: Oppose the Sale of Public Lands in the “One Big Beautiful Bill” Act). If you are hesitant or nervous about calling and talking to a staffer or leaving a message, here’s basically what the conversation is like when I’ve done it:

STAFFER: Senator _______’s office, this is _____.
ME: Hi, I’m a constituent and I’d like to leave a comment. Do you need my address?
STAFFER: Yes.
ME: My address is [street address, city, state, ZIP code].
STAFFER: OK, thank you, what’s your comment?
ME: I’d like to encourage Senator _______ to [oppose H.R. 1, the budget reconciliation bill, and any provisions that authorize the sale of our public lands].
STAFFER: OK, anything else?
ME: That’s all, thank you.
STAFFER: Thank you.

I don’t know how I found the Why Cheap Art Manifesto this week, but something about the typeface and the style and the very simple message of it really hit home for me, and perhaps it will hit home for you too. If you are really into it, there’s a link at the bottom where you can purchase a print of it, which, at $20, I guess is technically cheap art, which is very meta, to support artists by buying a print of a manifesto about cheap art. But of course you can just read and enjoy it for free, too.

I made a pie chart graphic for newsletter sponsor Precision Fuel & Hydration this past week titled “What’s In Your Water Bottle(s)?” and one of the pie chart slices was “stachybotrys chartarum (black mold).” Which reminded me of a trick I learned to keep black mold from growing in water bottles: Store them in the freezer. I’ve been using this method for years now, and I think it’s even more important considering the amount of PFH’s Carb & Electrolyte Drink Mix I am putting in them on a weekly basis. I get home from my run, rinse out my bottles with water, and chuck them in the freezer, and voila, no mold. (If you are interested in trying PFH drink mix, here’s a link that will give you 15% off your first order)

If you are a fan of Bruce Springsteen, or a fan of Jeremy Allen White, and/or a fan of music biopics, you might be excited about the trailer for Springsteen: Deliver Me From Nowhere, which just dropped on Wednesday.

I was talking to Mike Sowden last week (on a video call, since he’s in Scotland and I am in Montana), and I have no idea what led to this, but he told me about being obsessed as a kid with the Terran Trade Authority Handbooks, and the way he described them lit up some sort of nostalgia center in my brain and took me back to the library in southwest Iowa where I’d flip through books with illustrations of spaceships, tanks, cars, bridges, whatever, and within a couple hours of getting off the call, Mike sent me this link to a scan of the Terran Trade Authority Handbook SPACECRAFT 2000 To 2100 AD book. Maybe you might enjoy it too. Maybe you, like me, will track down a used copy of the book on a website somewhere and spend $45 of your hard-earned money to own a paperback copy of it (or maybe you’re smarter/less emotional with money than I am?).

This is a very short, very simple essay about how human beings maybe don’t need to be just one thing, and I think it hit home for me because I see a lot of media about “your personal brand,” and I admittedly haven’t worked too hard on that kind of stuff, but if I had to design a business card about my personal brand, I think it might look a lot like the business card in the photo at the top of this essay, and I’m guessing yours would too.

When I put together this newsletter, I try hard to make sure it is not all links to 3,000-word essays on Substack, and does include some stuff you can digest in a minute or two, which I think is necessary in life, even if it doesn’t make us feel smarter. With that, I would like to present this 87-second video this guy made using various martial art techniques  to close a refrigerator.

Perhaps you read this newsletter last week and read that we’re putting my “What Does Your Urine Say About You?” chart on a limited-run Nalgene water bottle? You still have a few more days to order one as a helpful reminder to stay hydrated, for yourself or for someone you know and/or love. They’re available for pre-order through this link in my online DFTBA shop. I put together this fun short video using the sample bottle we made, and the full chart is below the video.

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IMPORTANT FINAL REMINDER:

If you or someone you know/love would enjoy this water bottle because you/they struggle to stay hydrated (or just enjoy the chart on the bottle), we’re in the final days of the pre-order campaign. After June 30, you will no longer be able to purchase these bottles (even during the holiday shopping season, when you remember that you need to get a gift for your friend Jeff, who probably would have loved one of these). Here’s the link (you can also click on the photo below).

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I love these kinds of sports-adjacent stories, not necessarily about the usual sports topics we think about, or necessarily about the players and/or coaches—but this guy, who got really, really good at getting on the Jumbotron at the Barclays Center, and how he cracked the code. (video)

I don’t know how this was done, but it’s super-cool—a guy mapped the geographic movements/migrations of more than 4,000 of his daughter’s ancestors, dating back to the 1600s, and put together this map animation. It’s such a cool visualization of how many lives and decisions were involved in one person being here now.

The folks at Injinji reached out a few weeks back, and asked if I was familiar with their socks. And of course I have been, since 2019, when I battled the most painful blisters of my life for the final 30+ miles of the Hellbender 100, and my friend Canyon said, “Yeah, you gotta get toe socks.” So I did, and I’ve been wearing them for long runs ever since, each of my toes happily in its own little compartment. Injinji is coming on as a sponsor of this newsletter, which is great because it’s a perfect fit, but also because if you’re reading this newsletter, this link will give you 20 percent off a purchase at Injinji.com if you order before midnight PST July 11. (I am a longtime fan of the Trail Midweight Crew, if you’re looking for a recommendation)

I am increasingly interested in the American loneliness epidemic, and maybe it’s not the most uplifting content, but The Pudding put together this short video breaking down the data of who Americans spend time with, and it hits pretty hard—I think in a way that inspires me to try to reach out and spend more time with friends in person. (video)

If you have ever seen Christoph Niemann’s art and design work, you will probably not be surprised at how interesting and accessible this interactive piece he put together about artists and AI for the New York Times is—the first time I read it, I scrolled through it on my phone, which honestly worked just as well as viewing it on my laptop. It really covers some ground. Here’s a gift link to see it. (thanks, Fitz)

I don’t surf, but I loved William Finnegan’s Pulitzer-winning surfing memoir, Barbarian Days, which I think will be a far different book than David Litt’s new memoir about learning to surf as an adult, It’s Only Drowning. I mean, when your book has blurbs by Laird Hamilton, Judd Apatow, and the former U.S. Treasury Secretary, it probably comes from a unique perspective. This excerpt of the book on LitHub did not disappoint.   

I missed this when it came out—just before Father’s Day—but I now wish I had seen it and sent it to everyone I know who’s a dad and would laugh at it by the time they read the fifth sentence. So I guess belated happy Father’s Day to you if you click on this McSweeney’s link: Congrats, Dipshit, You’re A Dad Now.

This is not something I’d say has, uh, depth? But it had me laughing within a second of reading it in the replies of this post on Bluesky, and then I realized I couldn’t share it with anyone who wasn’t on Bluesky, so I tracked down this 2022 tumblr post, which I’m not sure is the original, but at least it’s visible, and maybe you’ll giggle at it while reading “Donkin Dunnts: Amurica Runn No Dundun” like I did. (Also, if anyone knows the origin story of this graphic, please let me know)

Finally: If you read last week’s newsletter and called your senators to encourage them to oppose the selling off of public lands, thank you. If you’ve been following the news, you might know that the Senate parliamentarian rejected the plan to sell 3.3 million acres of public lands, which is great news. BUT, a new proposal to sell off 1.2 million acres of public land is now on the table, so, basically, we all have to call again. Here’s the link to the public lands budget reconciliation page on 5Calls.org, which makes it very easy to call your congressional representatives.

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NOTE: I’m publishing this week’s post on Thursday since this Friday is July 4th, and lots of people/Americans do other things on July 4th. Please feel free to read it on Thusrday, Friday, or whatever day suits your needs.

This is a bit longer than the videos I usually include here, but I got sucked into this guy’s adventure on “America’s Worst Rated Train,” and honestly, it delivered. About halfway through, I wasn’t sure it was good press for Amtrak, but by the end of the video, I thought, you know, yeah, maybe it is good press for Amtrak. Kind of. (Although I do think it’s a little strange that he says “There is one train route that exists all the way from Miami to Alaska,” when the final, quite significant, leg of the trip is quite obviously on a boat?) (video)

I don’t know how I found this essay on youth sports (and also about parenting and coaching), but I kept stopping while reading and going, “huh, yeah,” and wondering if over the past couple decades, we have been (at least partly unintentionally) making sports less and less fun for the kids who participate in them?

When I mention newsletter sponsor Precision Fuel & Hydration in these posts, it’s usually some sort of personal endorsement from me, a 46-year-old mid-pack ultrarunner dad, which I hope has some value (and authenticity). LIke hey, I’m a regular person training and running, and this stuff works for me, not just for super-athlete types who bound up mountains and barely break a sweat doing it. I was going to do that again this week, but then I saw the results for the Western States Endurance Run come in over the weekend, and realized that five of the top 10 men were sponsored by Precision Fuel & Hydration. (Including four of the top five, which included Missoula’s own Jeff Mogavero). So I guess take it from me, this stuff works for super-athletes too. Here’s a link to the PF 90 gels, a favorite product my both myself and Caleb Olson, who won Western States.

We are pretty lucky in Missoula to have a great local coffee roaster in Black Coffee, and maybe even luckier that Jim Chapman, one of the co-founders, is a creative guy who loves writing and photography. So when I get emails from Black Coffee (besides the ones that inform me my monthly coffee subscription just shipped), I usually open them. The most recent one—“My 5 Favorite Methods for Camp Coffee”—was an easy sell, too, because Jim knows a ton about coffee, and isn’t a snob when he discusses it (I appreciate that he includes instant coffee in his list, because in my opinion, there’s a place and time for it). Anyway, don’t take it from me, a mere coffee enthusiast—take it from someone who’s actually an expert on coffee, and camping.

I can’t even remember the first time I bought a pack of Field Notes pocket notebooks, but I vividly remember the 15 or so minutes I got to spend talking to Aaron Draplin at an event we did in Chicago in 2017. Being charismatic is one thing, and being down-to-earth and funny in tandem with being charismatic is a whole other thing. I have been rooting for Draplin for a very long time, and it’s really cool to see this article about the phenomenon that is Field Notes (as well as this link to a page showing part of Draplin’s vast collection of vintage pocket notebooks).

It’s crazy to think that it’s been 15 years (!) since The Social Network came out, and I can’t say I think the material for a sequel is exactly uplifting, I am cautiously optimistic that Aaron Sorkin will make another good movie (especially if he can convince Jesse Eisenberg to participate again?).

I’m not trying to put a link about AI in every issue of this newsletter, but I knew when John Oliver tackled the subject, it would at least be entertaining. And of course he went at it from an angle—only talking about AI slop, which, in the span of this 29-minute segment, had me laughing, a little sad, laughing, disappointed, laughing, a little angry, laughing, and then applauding at the end.

Because that’s how the PhotoshopRequests Subreddit works, you have to scroll through the replies here to see all the wacky edits people did to this photo of this guy tossing his baby in the air, but I think it’s pretty rewarding scrolling per centimeter of thumb travel.

Last weekend, I was in Wisconsin for my niece’s graduation party, and the morning of the party, I ran down the street from their house to a county park and ran three 1.05-mile loops around the road that circles the park before heading back to the house to pick up my nephew to run a couple more laps around the park with me. To my great surprise and mild entertainment, I got an email from Strava informing me that the first three laps had given me the “Local Legend” title for the most reps on that loop in a 90-day period. I have always found Strava’s Local Legend feature to be humorous, because I every time I’ve gotten a notification that I’ve become a Local Legend of something, it’s always some obscure short segment that I’ve never consciously tried to run a lot of reps of. And it’s usually called something like “Unnamed Rd Climb,” which for some reason is really popular in the Missoula area (and I guess a few other places). So, that’s a long story, but: We made a coffee mug. For me, I guess, and you, if you’ve ever been a Local Legend of Unnamed Rd Climb or something else obscure. OR, even better, if you’d like a gift for your spouse or friend or running partner who would get a good chuckle out of having a dubious honor displayed on a coffee mug. Here’s a photo, which you can click on for more information:

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As I slither out of my sleeping bag an hour after “quiet hours” began at the campground, creeping toward the door of the tent to go ask the people at the next campsite to maybe possibly keep it down, you know, if it’s not too much trouble, I think: this is going to go one of two ways. They’re going to say oops, sorry, we’ll quiet down, or I’m going to have to engage in hand-to-hand combat with up to five men (which will be quick and painful, for me). 

Nobody wants to be that person, the killjoy who walks over to a campsite of people having fun—loud fun—to remind them that this is actually not their backyard, this is a public campground, and other people might be trying to sleep right now. But in the past couple decades, I have been that guy many times. I have used various techniques, have not been physically assaulted or maimed (yet), and have sometimes even succeeded in gently nudging the loud folks to, in the words of Adam Mansbach, read by Samuel L. Jackson, Go the Fuck to Sleep. Here are a few strategies, rated for their effectiveness. 

Denial
You didn’t hear anything. You just woke up. It’s totally quiet out there.
Effectiveness: 2/10

Vigilance
You listen intently, as if a predator might be approaching your tent. You stop breathing. Was that a noise? A car door closing, a camper door slamming shut, someone laughing, someone playing … a flute … at 10 p.m.? Did you hear it again? Yes. Yes, you did. Goddammit.
Effectiveness: 0/10

Earplugs
You put earplugs in your ears. In my experience of working in a loud factory, earplugs are great at minimizing the hearing damage one might suffer working in loud environments where the sound level is pretty constantly uncomfortable, but in a place where relative quiet is abruptly punctured by a loud noise every few minutes, they can be hit or miss.
Effectiveness: Best-case, 10/10. Worst-case, 3/10. 

Gaslighting yourself
That guy’s laugh wasn’t that loud, was it? I mean, it might have just woken you up as you were drifting into sleep, but you’re probably just a bit sensitive. That thump every 20-30 seconds? It’s pretty muted, honestly, and 11 p.m. is a perfectly OK time to split firewood. You’re just being oversensitive.
Effectiveness: 0/10

Anger
This strategy involves getting so mad you could spit, or do spit, or imagine yourself forcefully silencing the loud people, or pouring corn syrup into the fuel tank of their generator that’s been running since 7 p.m., or hastily packing up your entire camp and driving home/somewhere else while shaking your head in disbelief. Not effective.
Effectiveness: -3/10

Not being mad, just being disappointed
As effective as this technique was when I was a teenager and my mom used it on me, it does not work to get people to be considerate of others’ experiences.
Effectiveness: 0/10

Deploying chemical agents that will render them unconscious
Actually haven’t tried this one, but have fantasized about it many times.
Effectiveness: Who’s to say, really. Definitely illegal though.

Complaining, in head
Effectiveness: 0/10

Complaining to tentmate(s)
Effectiveness: 0/10

Self-righteousness
Sure, you’re far from perfect, but you would never be an inconsiderate dickhead like those loud people are! I mean, the nerve. Don’t they realize there are other people here trying to enjoy the sounds of the breeze in the trees, or birdsong, and not a bunch of dipshits playing Wizard Staff and falling into the campfire? Oh, wait. You have been an inconsiderate dickhead, at least that one time. It was years ago, but still.
Effectiveness: 0/10

Approaching their campsite and politely asking them to quiet down
Awkward, really not enjoyable unless you happen to enjoy confrontation, but if you really believe someone has to do it, it might have to be you. You can accidentally shine your headlamp in everyone’s eyes on its brightest setting, but it’s not very diplomatic.
Effectiveness: anywhere from 0/10 to 10/10

Waiting for someone else to ask offending party to quiet down
True story, one time I was climbing at Red Rock Natural Conservation Area near Vegas and we camped there a couple nights, and there was absolutely no vegetation between campsites, so sound traveled pretty far. At like 1:30 a.m., I woke up to someone’s dog barking for a few seconds, maybe at a coyote or something. The dog kept barking, kept barking, kept barking, for a couple minutes. I sighed, resigned to the fact that I was going to have to get out of my sleeping bag, unzip the tent door, walk over there and … suddenly, I heard someone from another campsite scream, “SHUT THAT FUCKING DOG UUUUUUUUUUUUUPPPPPP!!!!!!” Seconds later, the dog stopped barking. I rolled over and went back to sleep.
Effectiveness: In the above story, 10/10, but results vary per situation. 

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I am a big fan of Luke Nelson, who is a dad, husband, physician’s assistant, sponsored trail runner, ski patroller, race director, and just a swell guy in general. I remember seeing his “Pocatello Round” come through my Strava feed in the summer of 2024, and thinking, “Well, of course he did that.” Luke dreamed up a 72-mile route around his hometown of Pocatello, Idaho, and ran it with friends, and this short film documents the effort and people that made it possible. (video)

(Also, here’s the Strava map and details of his run, if you’re interested in seeing what it looks like on a map)

The Hardrock Endurance Run starts about an hour after this newsletter publishes on July 11 (6 a.m. Mountain Time), and I wanted to share a couple relevant links—one is the interview Zoë Rom and I did with Katie Schide, the UTMB and Western States Endurance Run champion who is definitely favored to do well at Hardrock. We talked a little bit about her college job hauling giant pack loads up trails to the White Mountain huts in New Hampshire, how she has trained for Hardrock by spending time in Leadville, Ouray, and Silverton, and her PhD thesis. Here’s a link to listen on Apple Podcasts, and here’s a link to listen on Spotify.

Second: I loved this preview of Hardrock from longtime runner and writer Sarah Lavender Smith, who finally got into Hardrock this year in her mid-50s. It’s a great breakdown of how she’s prepared, what she’s expecting, and how she feels about running the race in her mid-50s as opposed to her mid-40s. If you’re following the race and want to root for someone, you can root for Sarah—and/or some of the other Hardrock women competitors in their 60s she lists in her Substack piece.

It’s sunny here in Western Montana right now, and f I am not wearing a sun hoody on my trail runs, I have been wearing the new Trekker Snappy Shirt from newsletter sponsor Janji. The high collar is great for covering the back of my neck on days when putting up a full hood is just too hot for me. The shirt is 10% off in the two remaining colors (I am a fan of the Reverse Paisley because I think it’s fun and also hopefully doesn’t show stains as much?). It’s listed as a “men’s” product but as you can see in the pics, it’s not necessarily just for men. And of course you could wear it for things other than running.

I wouldn’t say I’m much of a horror fan—I can’t say the last time I watched scary movie, and I’ve read very few horror books. But I am Patreon pen pals with Wendy Wagner, and got to chat with her at my Portland book event last May, so when I heard she had a new book coming out, I thought, “Wendy’s so nice! Maybe I should broaden my horizons.” She was kind enough to send me an advance copy of Girl in the Creek, and I am pleased to report that it was a fun, engaging read that didn’t give me nightmares. As I said, I don’t know anything about the horror genre, but if you had told me Wendy’s book was classified as something like “supernatural murder mystery,” I would say that sounds accurate too. It’s set in a fictional small town on the slopes of Mount Hood, and if you’re interested, here’s the link to the publisher’s page. If you’d like to support a local bookstore, here’s an affiliate link to the Bookshop page.

I have to agree with this sentiment, but I also don’t think I need AI to do my laundry and dishes, since I get a lot of good thinking done while hanging laundry and doing dishes.

I think I might have shared something about this a few months ago when I first heard about it, but Mustard, who was arguably made even more famous when Kendrick Lamar yelled his name during TV Off (and even more during the Super Bowl performance), now has a mustard collaboration with Heinz—Chipotle Honey Mustaaaaaard. (I have no financial interest or otherwise in this venture—I just think it’s entertaining. Also, did they argue about how many As they wanted to put in the name? “6!” “No, 5!”)

Why are frogs in kids’ books usually male? The Pudding did an amazing analysis of children’s books, and which animals we tend to characterize as male, and which animals we tend to characterize as female (including an experiment in which they asked 1,300 participants to finish a story that begins, “And then the bear said, ‘I must go to the river.’ Upon arriving…” to see which gender the participants assigned the bear.

Also, if you missed it last week, this is an actual coffee mug we just started making (clicking the link will take you to the shop page for the mug):

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I got quite a few responses to my post “A Regular Person’s Guide To Surviving An Ultramarathon” a few weeks back, so I decided to try to turn it into a YouTube video—which I just published yesterday. (video)

I might be a little late to the party here, but I finally finished Orbital by Samantha Harvey, and I was just telling a friend I regretted listening to the audiobook because it was so beautifully written that I wanted to spend more time with the sentences (which is kind of impossible unless you’re really skilled at rewinding an audiobook app). But if a short literary novel—ahem, award-winning, bestselling novel—about astronauts orbiting Earth sounds good to you, I highly recommend it. (Also, I have a theory that most books will eventually settle at about a 3.8-4.0 average rating on Goodreads, and I think I have to amend that to say that any book that’s nominated for the Man Booker Prize will settle at somewhere around 3.4-3.7, since just as many people seem to hate those books as love them). Here’s a link to the publisher’s page for Orbital, and here’s a link to the Bookshop page if you have a local bookstore you’d like to support.

There’s a lot of interesting info in this post from newsletter sponsor Precision Fuel & Hydration about how frequently you should take in carbs during exercise, including the breakdown of five different strategies from small, frequent doses to large, infrequent doses, but I was very excited to find my own strategy validated by a very fast runner: “Ultrarunner Robbie Britton hits 90g/h by consuming a PF 90 Gel in two separate doses. ‘My method is a big gulp initially and then I finish whatever is left in another hit by the end of the hour.'” [Reminder: Clicking the above link gives you 25% off your first Precision Fuel & Hydration]

I started laughing my ass off at the 00:09 mark of this video, and then thought, “this video is 63 seconds long, what else could happen in the next 50 seconds to make it better?” and I gotta tell you, I did not expect this lady to walk up to this guy, and get the reaction she got from him, which made me laugh even harder, and also sort of restore my faith in humans.

I have now known Ed Roberson for seven or eight years, and in that time watched him go from “guy trying out podcasting” to full-time podcaster and emcee/public speaker. He told me years later that the first time we met in person in 2018, at our little condo in Denver, that it was the first time he’d ever used the recording equipment he’d set up on our kitchen table to interview me. Ed has been visiting Missoula the past three years in advance of the Old Salt Festival, where he interviews people on stage and leads panel discussions, and before the festival, he stays at our house for a couple nights. Since 2018, he’s interviewed a lot of big (and/or big-to-me) names, including Nick Offerman, Kristine Tompkins, Hampton Sides, and others, so there’s been a lot of water under the bridge, so to speak, between that first interview and the interview we did at my kitchen table a few weeks ago. Which of course is just two friends chatting about the same stuff we’d been talking about while Ed was helping me build Jay’s playhouse in the backyard the day before—creativity, learning to teach, making my Seven Summits of My Neighborhood film, and the male loneliness epidemic.

We’ve all been there, clicking on one new (wrong) thing and then the algorithm makes all sorts of assumptions about our interests, and, well, “Now my feed is 50% dudes with perfectly groomed beards explaining why modern society has emasculated men, 30% videos of people blending vegetables while talking about ‘ancestral nutrition,’ and 20% ads for supplements with names like ‘Alpha Beast Mode’ and ‘Primal Warrior Stack.’” —Michelle J, “I Followed a Life Coach on Instagram and Now My Algorithm Thinks I’m a Men’s Rights Activist With a Juicing Problem”

This is a brand anthem video for HOKA, which I guess is essentially a sort of ad, but I gotta say, it’s fucking great. Made me think I actually do love running, partly because of exactly what they depict in the video: community. Anyway, it’s two minutes, and I’ve watched it three times this week.

I was talking to my mom a few weeks ago about my feeling that my brother and I had one of the last small-town/suburban childhoods in America where kids rode their bikes around to each other’s houses to hang out (which ended in 1993 when we moved across the state into a house on a highway with a 55 mph speed limit). So I’m probably the target market for this nostalgic collection of photos of kids jumping bikes over each other, many of which look like they probably ended with some scraped elbows/chins/knees. (via Kottke. org)

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Rich seemed like a nice guy, and although we only interacted for a few minutes, I remain forever grateful to him for the psychic load he unburdened me from, and took on himself, despite not knowing me at all.

Rich is a hero, but he’s not unique. He’s one of many heroes around the world who act probably on a daily basis, visiting strangers they meet via Facebook Marketplace or Craigslist, coming to their homes and agreeing to adopt a piece of neglected exercise equipment.

I don’t even know if we shook hands before he got in his car to drive away, which I regret. I think I was just so excited to have back the space in our garage that had been occupied by a NordicTrack ski machine for almost a year and a half.

I had bought it off Craigslist on a bit of an impulse during an August when the wildfire smoke in our town was really bad and I needed to exercise. Why didn’t I buy a treadmill? I don’t know. But I would have needed a pickup to haul a treadmill home. Plus the first real ultrarunner I ever met told me years ago that he did a ton of training on a NordicTrack, and that it really mimicked the motion of running well. Better question: Why didn’t I just pay for a day pass at the gym four blocks from my house?

Well, I didn’t. I bought a NordicTrack from a guy in an apartment complex a few blocks away, despite many red flags like a) I’m not really much of an exercise machine person and b) the fact that NordicTrack stopped producing the ski machines in the late 1990s.

I used it a couple times in our garage when the smoke was really bad, and then ignored it for almost a year and a half, watching it gather dust and sawdust, until I finally listed it on Craigslist for much less than I paid for it. Then, after it didn’t sell, I dropped the price. Then I dropped the price again, and finally, I just put it on Craigslist for free. Like just come and rid me of this goddamn thing, please. Within 14 minutes, a guy named Rich messaged me and said he was interested.

I grew up in what I believe was the heyday of infomercial fitness equipment: The Abdominizer, the Thighmaster (hawked by Suzanne Somers), the EZ Krunch, the Abflex, and later the Shake Weight, all of which sold millions of units on the promise of changing our lives, only to be debunked and/or ridiculed later. Suzanne Somers claimed they sold more than 15 million thighmasters, and the much less-famous Abdominizer apparently sold more than 6 million units in 50-plus countries.

Among all those gadgets that promised to give us abs, or muscles, or just fitness, but ended up in garage sales or charity shops or landfills, there must be some stories of people whose lives were actually changed by an infomercial-pitched exercise aid, right? Some folks who did, actually firm up their core by committing to workouts with the EZ Crunch, as endorsed by Price is Right model Dian Parkinson? Or someone whose lifelong fitness journey began with an impulse buy of the Shake Weight late one night while sitting on their couch, dusting Doritos seasoning off their fingertips to dial the 1-800 number on the screen of their TV? Surely this happened hundreds of times, with all the millions of these things sold.

Unfortunately, that’s not what happened with the used NordicTrack I bought from the guy in Missoula. I don’t remember what I originally paid for it, but I think it was somewhere in the neighborhood of $250, which means each time I used it cost me $125, which is almost the cost of a pair of running shoes, which I actually use, and even if running shoes somehow didn’t work for me, they could be used as walking shoes. The unused NordicTrack just sat there, taking up too much space in the garage—but taking up even more space in my head every time I walked by or glanced at it, a little ski machine-shaped spot in my brain colored with light shades of guilt.

Rich from Craigslist showed up to remove it from my garage within minutes of messaging me. I helped him carry it to his car, feeling the weight of the machine leave my hands as we set it in the back. I watched him drive away, hoping he’d get more joy out of it than I had. Maybe it would change his life?

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Wow did I love this 15-minute film about three L.A. cyclists who come from diverse cycling backgrounds and found each other to enjoy, as Dante Young puts it, “riding around in tight-ass clothes all day.” (video) (thanks, Brody)

This one-minute video was simply titled “Researchers react to first-ever photos” on the youseeingthisshit subreddit, and I watched it three or four times before I poked around to try to find more info on why these guys were so excited about this bird. The video is from 2022, shot on Fergusson Island, off the east coast of Papua New Guinea, and the bird is a Black-naped Pheasant Pigeon, which is a bird species that hadn’t been documented by scientists since it was first described in 1882—it was one of 20 “lost” birds that hadn’t been documented for more than 100 years. The guy with the camera is Cornell researcher Jordan Boersma, and he’s showing the video of the bird to local biologist Doka Nason. More info in this Audubon article, but the video itself is just a moment of joy. Like I am not what I would call a big “bird person” but I loooooove this video.

A few weeks ago, Zoë and I got to chat with Mike Ko, aka Kofuzi, for The Trailhead podcast, about his journey from regular guy to YouTube running celebrity, including the evolution from a “not that fast” runner (other people’s words, not mine) to sub-3-hour marathoner. In a move that was maybe kind of like wearing the band t-shirt to the concert or the bar t-shirt to the bar, I wore my “Non-Elite” hat for the video call (which was designed by Kofuzi and the folks at PATH Projects), which is still one of my favorite hats.
Listen on Apple Podcasts | Listen on Spotify

I am starting to increase the distance of my longer trail runs to prepare for a big 5-day-long effort in early September, and the folks from newsletter sponsor Injinji thankfully sent me a pair of their Ultra Run Crew socks, which I am loving because of the extra padding for those longer-mileage days here in Missoula. If you’re looking for socks for running or hiking, clicking this link will give you a code for 20 percent off your purchase at the Injinji website.

There are only a few instances of profanity in this Substack piece about a really weird Airbnb experience, but if I were going to teach a class on how to use a few rated-R words exactly enough in your writing to be funny but not *too much *, I would use this essay as an example. (I think being able to write dialogue with a Scottish accent probably helps too)

This My Modern Met story is really just kind of a summary of a CBS Evening News story, but DAMN. Molly Shafer, a high school senior in a small town near Madison, Wisconsin, had friends when she was younger, but lost touch with many of them during high school, as she became a “loner.” But during her senior year, she decided to try to reconnect with them by painting portraits of 44 classmates. She spent about 13 hours on each one. The news crew interviewed many of the classmates for the short segment, and Molly, who said: “You can’t go through life thinking that you don’t have friends because they don’t like you, because that’s not the case. People aren’t thinking that hard about you. It’s all in your head. You just have to try.”

Boy did this Longreads story end up being way different than I thought it would be—the headline “Eight Limes, No More: The Accidental Poetry of Found Lists” really doesn’t even hint at the depth than you get when reading it. I particularly loved the list writing/writing exercise the author describes near the end of the essay. Also this bit: “Lists are how we fight chaos with ballpoint pens.“

Jason Chatfield has a wonderful Substack newsletter called New York Cartoons, and it was an honor for me to do a Substack Live discussion with him last week, as I consider him to be a real cartoonist (for the New Yorker and others), a real artist, and a real comedian. Also a really nice guy, in my experience meeting him for a quick coffee the last time I was in New York, which turned into, if I remember correctly, a several-hour, multi-coffee discussion with maybe some lunch too? Anyway, hell of a guy, loves to create and dig into the creative process, and we talked about everything from self-publishing books to road trips (he’s on one right now, in an RV somewhere south of Portland), to failure. If you’d like to watch our chat, here’s a link (we both decided to wear glasses for the interview, without discussing it beforehand?).

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NEWS FROM ME: As of today, August 1, we are opening up 25 more spots for the next session of my How To Tell One Story online writing course. So far, 180+ people have taken the course, and I’ve gotten tons of positive feedback from them. It’s six weeks, two emails per week (Mondays and Thursdays), each email containing a lesson, short video, and writing exercise that takes between five and 30 minutes. You complete the lessons at your own pace, and you have access to the lessons and videos as long as you want them. We’ll close registration after August 8th, or when the 25 spots fill up. (and psssst, right now it’s $50 off the regular price). Here’s a link if you’d like to check it out. 

I watched this video and thought, “maybe too weird for the newsletter,” and then I thought, “nah, maybe I’ll just share it anyway and the weird people will like it,” and then I watched it a second time and noticed the end credit that said “characters (and trumpet) by my son,” and the source drawings, and thought, “OK, maybe it’s not so weird, and just sort of cute in that little kid way.” But that’s me assuming the son is a little kid, so who knows. (video)

I was aware that people hike to all 48 of the 4,000-foot summits in the White Mountains, and I was also aware that people do all 48 of the summits, each one in each of the 12 months of the calendar year, but I honestly was not aware that people hammered out all 48 summits in one push until Gary C. sent me an email with this link to Andrew Drummond’s write-up of his latest attempt, which he finished in just under five days (!!!). Apparently people have been doing this since Reverend Henry Folsom put a route together in 1970, and did it over 19 hiking days (not consecutive). Anyway, the numbers to do it in less than five days are jaw-dropping (especially the final day, 59.53 miles and 19,678 feet of elevation gain).

We’ve been having Black Sabbath dance parties with our toddler since Ozzy Osbourne died July 22, and I saw a Popular Mechanics story (paywalled) about Ozzy’s genome sequencing showing that he was predisposed to hard partying and also surviving said hard partying, AND that he had some Neanderthal lineage. Which was pretty interesting, but this Psychology Today article explaining why his DNA won’t produce “another Ozzy” was even more interesting. So, RIP Ozzy.

I have, until this week, sort of assumed that a blood sugar crash during exercise was the same as “bonking,” and it took reading this article from newsletter sponsor Precision Fuel & Hydration to realize that no, they’re not the same. If you take anything away from What happens when you ‘bonk’? (And how to avoid it!) by Andy Blow, let it be that you should not only enjoy eating more carbs in the days leading up to a big effort, but that it is actually, as my junior high basketball coach used to say, prior proper preparation preventing poor performance. (also note that clicking the above link will give you 25% off your first purchase on the PFH site)

I just realized this week that endurance cyclist Alexandera Houchin has a Substack, and the first thing I read—her reflections on her many experiences racing Tour Divide over the years—did not let me down. My favorite part: “In a society obsessed with finish line narratives, we mustn’t forget the starting line stories, too. For I believe the distance from the starting line is where the true spirit lies; where did you come from to get to that race start line? Now, maybe more than ever, I urge people to dream impossible things, to line up at starting lines, and tell their stories.”

I had such a blast talking to my friend Fitz Cahall a few weeks ago, and having a bit of a return to The Dirtbag Diaries after several years. This conversation, and what I guess is really my first poetry reading, started when I published the “Reminder To Touch Grass” poem back in February and Fitz messaged me and asked if I’d like to read it on the Diaries. (Which I of course said yes to)

Did I need NPR to tell me that the word “dude” is useful? No, but I did need NPR to tell me that scholars spent 20 years trying to pin down its origin, and published a 261-page book about it. Also, “even with the rise of ‘bro,’ “dude” still reigns supreme, according to a recent survey linguistics professor Scott Kiesling conducted.”

This is just a short video I found on the Maybe Maybe Maybe subreddit, of a guy being very good at his job, and having fun with showing tourists a good time, and also kind of showing off a little bit.

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This photo of me, running to the finish line of a race with my toddler, Jay, was about 45 seconds away from not happening at all:

Hilary had woken Jay up from his nap, driven an hour and a half from Lake Hawea to the finish line parking area, scooped Jay out of the car, hustled him and his strider bike to the finishing corral, and gotten there just in time to see me about 150 feet away, jogging toward the finish alongside a guy named Kyle, scanning the fence line for her and Jay. I saw them, slowed and stopped, engaged my core, and grabbed our 30-pound, bike-helmeted kid from Hilary as she lifted him over the fence, set him down and we ran across the finish line together. 

In an alternate scenario, I might have ignored my wife and son in narrowed vision tunneling to the finish, downshifted, gritted my teeth, and sprinted next to Kyle, racing him the final couple hundred feet through the red arch, in a battle for 85th place. That might have come as a surprise to Kyle, as we’d run together off and on for the final six or so miles, chatting and jogging fairly casually. 

Of course, that didn’t happen—Kyle ran to the timing mat, jumped in the air to click his heels for the camera, and crossed the mat 16 seconds ahead of Jay and me, finishing 85th. 

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Years ago, I was listening to a podcast with a runner who was also a race director. I don’t remember anything about the interview with this person, except the part where they made fun of people who held hands with someone while crossing the finish line—a spouse, pacer, a fellow runner. At the time, I remember thinking, Huh, weird hill to die on, especially if you’re a race director. 

I had recently finished a race while holding hands with my wife, who had patiently paced me the final 30 miles of an extremely painful 100-mile race. As we approached the finish arch, I remember feeling that there was no way I would have made it to the end of the race without her. 

Maybe I also remembered that Kilian Jornet, arguably the greatest ultrarunner of a generation (if not all time), had finished the 2016 Hardrock Endurance Run while holding hands with Jason Schlarb. And that was a race he could have won. But, he said, “It’s logical…not to make a sprint to finish one minute ahead.”

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I have, like everyone else, put the hammer down (as much as I could, anyway) to run hard in the final mile of a long race, taking long strides to sprint (OK, kind of sprint) across the finish, even if I’ve been barely jogging, not-so-powerfully power-hiking, or hobbling for the previous five or 10 miles. That is also not logical, and yet I have done it. It was how I felt like showing up, at the time. 

If you have also done this, a pace chart of your race might look something like this: 

I don’t know what other people think about in their low moments when they’re pushing themselves out on on a race course or in the backcountry, but I would guess I’m not alone in a) wondering why I make myself do hard things in the middle of nowhere b) thinking about my home, which is to say my family, and sometimes my bed at home. It’s a privilege to go out and voluntarily seek adversity in nature, and when I find that adversity, it reminds me to be grateful for what I have.

Running is who I am for most of the day on race day. And in a typical week, it’s who I am for about 6-8 hours. But I’m a lot of other things all the time. 

I have told people that the UTMB finish line in Chamonix is probably the best finish line in sports. This is not because it has some 100-plus-year tradition (like the Boston Marathon), or because the greatest elite runners in the sport routinely battle it out in the final 100 meters to determine who will be that year’s champion. It is because you get to watch people from all over the world feeling whatever emotions they feel at the end of a 103-mile odyssey around Mont Blanc. Plus, they can run through the finish corral with their pacer, spouse, kids, dog, whoever they want. Some sprint, some walk, but they all cross the timing mat, and complete one of the biggest efforts of their lives. 

But a finish line, whether it’s the UTMB, or the terminus of the Appalachian Trail, or a local 5K race, can represent one of the biggest efforts of somebody’s life. And no matter how we show up there, in a sprint that threatens to explode our quads, or hobbling next to a friend cajoling us to go a few more steps, or carrying a kid who maybe doesn’t understand what Mom or Dad just did to get to this point, aren’t we really just trying to say, 

I’m 

So 

Happy 

I 

Could 

Be Here 

Right Now? 

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Today is the last day to sign up for my How To Tell One Story online writing course! As of my typing this (Thursday afternoon), we still had eight spots available. Since I kind of messed up a funny video promotion I did for it on Instagram that had a discount code on it (long story), it’s $199 for everyone instead of $249. But, again, today is the last day to sign up, and the spots are filling. Here’s the link for more info. (We’ll open up another 25 spots the week of October 3-10).

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As a huge fan of independent movie theaters, I really enjoyed this breakdown of how they make it work financially—although no one featured in the video mentioned memberships, which our local indie theater uses to keep the lights on (I am of course a member). (video)

Great headline on this short piece from Steve Magness and Brad Stulberg’s newsletter: “The Most Underrated Performance Enhancer: Having Fun,” which is in the same vein of something I’ve told a lot of people when they mention the idea of starting writing a newsletter: have fun with it, or you’ll find yourself abandoning it because it feels like work. I believe Steve and Brad are writing more about success/winning, but I think we’re on the same wavelength (isn’t fun its own kind of success?).

I follow the PerfectFit subreddit, and it’s usually just mildly satisfying stuff that happens to fit together, but this photo delivers a whole story, and you can just imagine the relief: A woman lost her engagement ring on a cross country trip, found a month later in husband’s deodorant

I am sure there is more to this story of the late musician and Harvard mathematician Tom Lehrer writing a letter to representatives for 2 Chainz in reply to their request for his permission to sample his song “The Old Dope Peddler,” but I think the writing itself is just *chef’s kiss*.

This is maybe not “inspirational” in the typical mostly-positive sense this newsletter usually embraces, but I have been thinking about it since I watched and saved it on Tuesday—I sometimes wonder if in 10 years, we’ll have retreated more into digital living, or if we’ll collectively say, “wow, this kind of sucks,” and rebel against it, doing more things in the “real world.”

Sometimes I look at certain pieces of art and wonder if they’d be as well-known if they were, you know, smaller—like Picasso’s Guernica, but 11 inches by 25 inches, instead of 11 feet by 25 feet. I’m not saying this hyper-realistic pigeon on NYC’s High Line is Guernica, but it is huge. (via Kottke)

The morning of my friend Nick Triolo’s book launch party at the library in Missoula a few weeks back, I invited him to join me on one of my twice-weekly runs on Mount Sentinel, since he hadn’t been in town for a while and we were due for a catchup. I of course totally forgot that a) his new book, The Way Around, was about circumambulation, which is kind of the opposite of summiting a peak, and b) my regular run route goes to the summit of Mount Sentinel. I of course remembered during the Q&A when he mentioned it in a sort of “hey, nothing against peak bagging” joke. We had interviewed him a few weeks prior for The Trailhead podcast, in which we talked about his book, and his 30-plus-race-finish ultrarunning career. Links to listen here:
Apple Podcasts | Spotify

Speaking of the Trailhead podcast, if you’ve been listening the past few months and would like to help us out by taking a quick 2-minute survey and share your opinions and/or recommendations, here’s a link to it.

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Did you know that you can respond to this newsletter (or recommend something for next week’s Friday Inspiration) by clicking “reply”? It’s true. I love getting replies, and I am able to read them all, and try to respond to them (but sometimes I can’t, which is a bummer, so thanks for understanding). (If you received this email from a friend, and would like to subscribe, please click here.)

I had a lot of fun figuring out how to make this 2-minute YouTube video about “the creative process,” which involved a) digging an actual hole, b) rigging a ring light in our shower just to shoot 10-seconds of GoPro footage of my feet, and c) spending way too long hand-writing all the subtitles. But I hope it hits home. (video)

 I was talking to a friend the other day about writers who can create great writing out of the smallest events. I was thinking of Bill Bryson, in one of my favorite passages he wrote, where he’s on a road trip, staying in a hotel in a small town in South Dakota (I think?) and he makes this incredibly funny essay about all the restaurants in town being closed, as well as the hotel dining room being closed for some private event, and he ends up just buying a bunch of candy bars from a vending machine and eating them on the hotel bed. And then yesterday I read this essay on Substack, about a barista writing someone’s name on a coffee cup, and the reaction the writer had, and it’s the same exact skill. So, my hat is off to Michelle? for this one. (Also, this video was mentioned in the comments, and I somehow had never seen it before.)

My friend Ed sent me this short blog from Seth Godin, Scarcity and Abundance, and it partly captures something I have been thinking about often, which is a mindset of scarcity vs. a mindset of abundance, and how much more I gravitate toward other people who believe they can “win” without other people having to “lose”—and of course, vice versa, how I’d rather just avoid people who think the only way they can be happy is if they somehow “beat” other people. And how we should all think about that sort of thing more (especially when driving automobiles?).

I am starting to make a packing list for a bigger adventure I’ll mention here in a few weeks (and in my next update for Patreon supporters), but I am psyched to be going somewhere I hope to have to pack a layer or two, including this 4.4-ounce wind jacket from newsletter sponsor Janji that I have scarcely worn all summer but am excited to potentially pull out of my vest when a cool mountain breeze picks up, fingers crossed. (Here’s a link the women’s fit version)

A while back, I started looking more and more to Reddit for interesting things to include in this newsletter, and I am not sure why I like it so much more than social media—maybe it feels more likely that I’m goign to find weird stuff, instead of things the algorithm(s) decide are successful? Anyway, it seems like every few weeks I find a new subreddit that I think is hilarious, and I can’t believe this is the first time I’ve encountered the WhyWomenLiveLonger subreddit, which appears to be mostly comprised of videos of men doing dumb things (which seem like they must quite often end in personal injury), but also this screenshot of a post that I think is hilarious, and doesn’t need a trigger warning.

Maybe you’re not in the space today that you want to look at a bunch of breathtaking astronomy photos in the shortlist of the Astronomy Photographer of the Year competition, but I’m going to share the link here and mention that a) experiencing awe is good for you, b) the universe is incredible, and c) people who have mastered their craft to the extent that they can photograph things like comets, blood moons, and solar eruptions are inspiring.

I am not a running streak person, but I’m impressed by people who are, and even if I wasn’t, I think I’d have to admit that the presentation of the data of this person’s 10-plus-year running streak is kind of amazing.

Is this level of research about the best way to dice an onion necessary? It is absolutely not, but I love it when people go this hard on math and science for something as non-essential as dicing an onion, and then put some love into the presentation of it.

Finally, I posted these two poems to my Strava a few days apart, then realized that together they kind of made a fun little saga, so I created some image slides to put on Instagram. I thought I’d include them here, just in case you’d like to read about my attempt to get rid of an old radiator that had been partially buried in my backyard (which is the kind of content I assume everyone needs nowadays).

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I saw this video somewhere on Reddit a few weeks ago and would have shared it here but I couldn’t verify that these folks actually went and retrieved the tire afterward—but it appears they answered that question in the comments on YouTube, so please enjoy this very satisfying three minutes. (thanks, Hannah and Dan) (video)

Hilary is a huge fan of Blackbird Spyplane, and I am a fan of the writing voice and general presence, although I am not as regular a reader as she is since it’s more about fashion. But this piece from two years ago, The End of Cool Small Cars, really resonated with me, as the owner of a 1979 Toyota Pickup and a person who has tremendous nostalgia for the old Chevy S10s and Ford Rangers of the late 1980s and early 1990s (not to mention my piece-of-shit two-door manual transmission Pontiac Sunbird). Especially this line:  “We can of course sense that, whereas road trips do rock, when it comes to daily commutes, etc., cars are prison cells masquerading as tickets to freedom.”

I am very susceptible to the formula of “Topic X written in the voice of a famous author,” and this piece, which published the same day Dune: Part Two was released, is right up my alley (and I don’t think you need to be that familiar with Bukowski’s work to enjoy it?): Charles Bukowski’s Dune

This is the third month of Injinji sponsoring this newsletter, and I am thankful for their financial support, but more than that, I am grateful for the many pairs of toe socks they sent me, which I have now subbed into my regular running sock rotation, which has increased morale on my long runs as much as a pair of socks can. The most recent addition was the tie-dye Courtney Crew socks designed by ultrarunning GOAT Courtney Dauwalter herself, who will be running UTMB starting next Friday and looking for her fourth win there. As far as these socks go, my thinking is, good enough for the GOAT, good enough for me. Here’s a link to the socks, and the code SEMIRADUTMB will get you 20% off all Injinji toesocks through September 5th.

I love artist Mike Monteiro’s newsletter—in every post, he answers a question from a reader, in an essay, and I don’t read every post, but for whatever reason last week, the subject line “How to Stay Hopeful” grabbed me. And I was delighted to find that his answer had a lot to do with walking, bikes, neighbors, and cities.

This is a long read, but I found it incredibly thoughtful, interesting, and insightful: Piers Gelly, an English professor at the University of Virginia, designed a course around the using AI to write, let his students decide and debate whether to use it in class, and to also decide if they’d rather learn from an actual human-taught class or by AI. A couple of the quotes from the piece that really hit home:

“We depend on a calculator to produce identical results no matter who uses it, but identical results in a writing context are boring at best.”

“ … because it’s exhausting to give a shit. My point wasn’t that they should give a shit, only that they could. The choice was theirs, as always.”

—Piers Gelly, What Happened When I Tried to Replace Myself with ChatGPT in My English Classroom

The point of the DiWHY subreddit, you might assume, is to question why (some) people would spend time creating things that are (maybe subjectively) ridiculous, but I’d argue that all creative works could be viewed as ridiculous, and certainly a ridiculous way to spend one’s time. But come on, look at these customizable ripped jeans and tell me they were a waste of anyone’s time.

I believe I found Matthew M. Evans’ Fog Chaser substack a few weeks ago through a post by my friend Anna Brones, and I was just thinking about how much I liked the last song he’d put out, when I saw the new one from last week, and the story behind it: night sketch (for jd)

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