When you think of wool clothing, what comes to mind? Cold weather? Bulky sweaters? Scratchy socks? Well, there’s a whole category of wool clothing that wants us to change our minds about wool – how it feels, how it looks, and when to wear it.

Case in point: Icebreaker’s line of merino wool activewear. I’ve been wanting to try Icebreaker’s running clothes since I first heard about them, so when natureshop.com contacted me to ask if I’d review some of their stuff, they didn’t have to ask twice. I sent them a list of the stuff I was interested in, and they kindly sent me three items to review: The SS Ace Crewe Tech T, the Tracer Run Short, and the Boxer Anatomica. Here’s the required disclaimer – they gave me the stuff for free to review, and I got to keep it.

I live about as far as you can get from the beach and still be in Los Angeles. It gets hot in the summer, so my typical running outfit is a Tech T and running shorts. That’s about it, not counting my GPS watch, heart rate monitor, hat, sunglasses, Road ID anklet and hydration pack for long runs. Although I often run barefoot, I’m not really a minimalist in any other respect.

I’ve done several runs now in my Icebreaker shirt and shorts. The boxer briefs I mostly just wear for daily wear. They could be worn under other shorts for running, but the Icebreaker shorts have a built-in liner, so they don’t really go together. Here are my thoughts on this novel approach to active wear.

This stuff looks and feels really good. The biggest thing I notice right away is how light, soft, and smooth it all feels. I’m wearing wool directly against my skin, and there is not a hint of scratchiness. It has a distinctly different feel to it than the synthetic tech clothing I usually run in. For lack of a more apt description, it feels more “natural.” It’s got slightly more texture to the cloth, and a tiny hint of “fuzz,” though it’s not actually fuzzy. It’s more like a slight nap to the cloth. Nap like suede, not like sleeping.

My favorite of all these pieces is the shirt. The SS Ace Crewe they sent me is a vibrant blue with nice details. I don’t look as smashing in it as the hot Kiwi they got to model it on their site, but it’s definitely one of the more attractive pieces of running clothing I’ve seen. It feels great on. There is a slight hint of the possibility of itch, but it never quite happens. And once I’m running, I almost don’t feel it there at all. It wicks moisture very well. The only thing I would say it doesn’t do quite as well as my synthetic stuff is dry quickly. When I’m done with a long run, the shirt is wet with sweat, and stays that way longer than some of my poly stuff. The shirt also has a cool little integrated pocket in the side that would hold a key or a couple gel packets.

The shorts are less visually interesting, being basically black running shorts. But they are simple, fit well, and look fine. There are two things about these that I like a bit less than some of my other shorts. First, they don’t have any exterior pockets. I don’t like loading up my shorts with stuff, and I usually run with a belt or hydration pack that I can put stuff in, but a pocket or two is nice. The biggest thing, though, is that the built-in liner is briefs instead of compression boxer briefs. I have two other pairs of running shorts – one from New Balance and one from Asics – with integrated boxer briefs, and now I either want those or to wear my own underwear instead of an integrated liner. On the one longer run I did in these – 10+ miles – there was some chafing. Enough said.

The underwear are really comfortable. As the name – Boxer Anatomica – suggests, they’re more, uh, fitted than what I sometimes wear, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. They look AND feel good. Second disclaimer – that is NOT me in the photo.

The one area where this gear wins hands down over anything else I own – odor control. They don’t smell bad. When I wear them, even after a 14+ mile run, they still don’t smell bad. I cannot say this about ANY of the other running gear I own. Usually when I finish a long run, I’m not fit to be around other humans until my clothes have been put into the laundry and I’ve been through the shower. My wife insists I put my running clothes directly into the wash because, in her words, she doesn’t want the bedroom to smell like crotch. But with these, it doesn’t happen. I can get home from a run and actually be around people without feeling guilty or clearing the room. I can hang them up to air out and wear them another day before washing. My wife even gives them the OK.

So, overall, I give this stuff high marks. There are two other things, though, in the “con” column. First, the underwear and the shirt have both had bits of stitching start to come unravelled. Nothing catastrophic, but having only had these pieces for a few weeks, I wouldn’t expect to see signs of them starting to fall apart just yet. And all the moreso because of the second negative – price. I got these pieces for free, and I’m very grateful. But even with natureshop.com’s discounts, these items are quite a bit more than the stuff I usually run in. The shirt is $63, the shorts $70, and the underwear are $50. I can’t really say what their long-term durability is. If they hold up well, I might say they’re worth the price, but I’m not quite ready to say that yet.

Yes. I’m probably over-generalizing. Pigeonholing them before they’re even in double digit years. But for the moment, it’s hard not to see them in the simplest terms, the most convenient definitions …

The scholar

The ladies’ man

Say what you like, they’ve both got great taste.

Wow, it’s been way too long.

Life has been so many things lately: busy, scary, fun, hectic, frustrating, daunting, exciting, painful, amazing … and more.

But none of that has made it here. For some reason I just haven’t been inspired to write, or felt I had time to do it. Even now this post is going to be very short, as I’ve just got too many things to do.

I'm not in this photo, but I did run between this huge inflatable dude's legs.

But I wanted to at least let you all know that after just over a year of running I completed my first half marathon! I did it barefoot, as planned. I did NOT do it in under 2 hours, as I’d hoped to. And I did NOT do it injury-free. You can see all the details over at dailymile. I’ve actually been much better about posting there than here lately, so if you want to catch up a little and don’t mind reading about running, have a look over there.

Until next time!

My big man turned five last week. I feel a little guilty about writing a full blog post celebrating Nicholas turning two, then completely ignoring Owen’s fifth for a week. On the other hand, the number of photos and videos I have of Owen’s first two years makes it seem like I lost my camera when Nicholas was born, so maybe it evens out.

After cohosting (with the parents of one of Owen’s best friends) what was generally considered by all in attendance to be the best fifth birthday party of all time, we took Owen and his friend to the circus the next day. Not some new fangled Cirque du High Concept Performance Art, but the O.G. Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey Circus. Yeah, I know, it’s not PC to keep elephants in train cars and make them do tricks. But whatever, it’s the circus, and it’s still pretty darn cool. Now, to be fair, they have made some changes since I last saw the greatest show on earth when I was a kid. They’ve taken a few elements from the Playbook du Soleil. They’ve mostly bailed on the three-ring format, and their costume designers have clearly been looking to make the spandex look a little more “now.” But despite the updates, some things are almost exactly as I remember them.

But this isn’t really a post about the circus. Or about Owen’s birthday. (Sorry, big man. You know I love you, and it’s crazy that you’re already five and starting Kindergarten. There will be more about that in other posts, I promise.). This post is about the circus as a metaphor for my life. Most of the circus wasn’t actually in three rings. It was one act at a time, allowing the audience to focus on that rather than splitting their focus trying to decide what to watch and not miss anything really good. But at a few points during the show, they did do more than one thing. There was some three-ring action. At one point there were FIVE acts at once. I tried to watch all five, but multitasking is a myth. You can only really pay attention to one thing at a time. I think I caught some good bits of at least the four performances closest to where we sat, but I’m sure I missed a lot, and I have almost no idea what that fifth act did.

Here’s the metaphor part. Sorry for the lack of slickness in the transition, but there are two or three other things I’m supposed to be doing at the moment, so the badass writer chops are not what they could be. A year ago I was jobless, overweight, drinking more than my share of margaritas, and trying to figure out what to do next. Oh, how things change. Now I have three jobs, of a sort, each of which I’m exceedingly grateful for, none of which yet pays enough to quit any of the others. Plus there are my kids, my marriage, and this obsession with running which I’d worry was a problem if it weren’t so beneficial to both my mental and physical health. Oh, and this blog. You may have noticed there haven’t been so many posts of late. And in case you’re curious, I’m off margaritas, but haven’t given up wine or chocolate.

I’m fairly certain none of these endeavors is getting what amounts to my best work. That said, I’m pretty darn good, so even with split focus I’m holding my own. But there are times I’m not sure which way to look. Which act to focus on. And sometimes I slip up. I suppose more than anything I hope it’s not my marriage or my family that suffers, though some days I know my fuse is shorter than it ought to be and my attention isn’t where I’d like it. But the occasional slip is to be expected. The dude on the trapeze didn’t manage to hit the quadruple somersault, and the missed attempt was actually pretty exciting. If I do miss one of these days, I just hope there’s a net down there.

loving life, as usual

Nicholas is two years old today! Our littlest boy. Our baby. Our amazing, adorable, irrepressible little dude, with an unrivaled enthusiasm for all things that makes the rest of us look like we’re phoning it in.

It’s hard to believe it was two years ago you were born. Two years ago last night I went to the opera to sit through opening night of La Rondine, because your mother was the calling stage manager, and despite having had regular contractions since around 3:30 that afternoon, she was pretty sure she could get through the show. So, with the show clock on one side and the contraction timer on the other, she called the show.

meeting little brother

I went back at each intermission to check in, asking, “Uh, think maybe we should go to the hospital now?” But not until the curtain came down did she decide it was time to head out. Even then we didn’t go straight to Cedars, but stopped at Chris and Becky’s to make sure it was REALLY time to bother going to the hospital.

When we finally did get there, after waiting for a room, they had your mom lie down, which of course slowed the contractions. They were almost ready to send her home when the nurse convinced the OB on duty to check her. She was around seven cm, I think, so we weren’t going anywhere (thanks, nurse). About three hours later you were born.

no fear, and no stopping him

Life since then has been a bit of a blur. Watching you grow is a joy, if a maddening and stressful one. You aren’t the cautious child your brother is, slow to take any unnecessary risks. Instead, you hurl yourself into each new adventure with little concern for the inevitable facial bruises. People might think we abuse you if everyone you meet didn’t witness you whirling about, careening into any solid object slow or stupid enough to get in your way. You walked at 10 months, and ran at about 10 months and a week. You were a bit slower to talk, but now that you do you speak with the emphasis of a preacher. We believe, little man, we believe.

he's a lover AND a fighter

Bam Bam, you continue to live up to your nick name. We know you love us from the force with which you smash us with your fists, your toys, your head. It’s a good thing Owen adores you, since you make him cry far more than ever you get upset about anything he does to you. On the few occasions he does do something to upset you, it’s almost never intentional. You, on the other hand, whale on him as though he’s indestructible. I imagine in your mind, he is. As are we all. And you hug us with as much zeal as you beat on us, so we know there’s no lack of love.

If nothing else, your mother and I are certainly thankful you’ve survived your first two years. There were times we weren’t sure it would happen, the way you throw caution to the wind. I think it’s fair to say you’ve gotten a running start at the terrible twos, though I’m sure they’ll also be spectacularly awesome, in addition to terrible. You can be all four seasons in one day, little man. Who knows what you can accomplish in an entire year. We can’t wait to find out.

treasure

Happy Birthday, Nicholas. We love you so.

Today my wife and I celebrate the eighth anniversary of our wedding. Last year on this date I wrote a love letter to Lisa on this blog. I don’t usually try to one-up myself. I want to grow and improve, but I think each new experience should be embraced on its own merits. It’s natural to compare today to yesterday, this year to last year, second kid to first kid, but each one is unique, and comparisons only go so far to tell us what things are really about.

So, I don’t intend to try and best last year’s note. Instead I want to acknowledge this day for what it is. A celebration of another wonderful, challenging, growth-filled year. I knew 12 months ago this year would bring change, challenges, and surprises. It did. It’s been one of the hardest years we’ve faced, and one of the best. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times? Cliché, but fitting.

Thinking of our wedding, I recall a moment during our reception. We were married in Lisa’s hometown of New York City in June 2002. Many arrangements were already made before September 11, 2001, and we had no intention of changing our plans. Most of our guests were not from New York, and many had never been there, so we decided to have our reception on a boat circling Manhattan. It afforded the best possible views of the city, including a sobering moment as we glided past the site of the World Trade Center attack. Some might think such a stark reminder of recent, horrible tragedy would be the last thing you’d want while celebrating your wedding. For me, though, the only honest way to cope with loss is to face it. Sadness is a part of life. We lose things we love. On Sept 11, 2001, nine months before we were married, we all lost a measure of our innocence. For some that loss was deep and acute: losing a family member, a loved one, or a friend. For others it was remote and abstract, but still painful. Looking at the hole in the city where the towers had stood, still fresh with twisted metal not yet repaired or removed, was a reminder that there will be dark times. The best we can do is weather them together, and look ahead to another day. Each year is a new opportunity. Every day a little death, and every day, rebirth.

So, we begin another year. Our ninth year married, our 17th as a couple. This year we’ve had our own minor tragedies, and triumphs. I know next year will be the same. I am hopeful the bright spots will outnumber and outweigh the dark ones. Whatever comes, we will face it together, arm in arm, with our children beside us.

I love you, Lisa. Happy anniversary.

I’m training for my first half marathon. Or, rather, I’m supposed to be training for my first half marathon. What I’m actually doing is lying on the couch, where I dragged myself this morning from the bed, trying not to stand up too fast lest I get dizzy and fall on my face. It was not a pretty scene when I hauled my fever-adled self out of bed a little too quickly, sat down next to Nicholas on the floor, and promptly passed out. Good thing I was already near the ground. So yeah, I’m sick. This is day two of the great fever, sore throat and lethargy of May 2010. Thankfully, it does seem to be getting better. The fever seems to have abated, it no longer feels like I’m swallowing knives (just sharp rocks), and I can stand up for more than 30 seconds without getting lightheaded. Let’s hope this trend continues. [UPDATE: Found out the day after I posted this I have strep throat. Awesome, right? So I'm on antibiotics now, and hoping this crap goes away quickly!]

But back to that half marathon. I’m registered to run the LA Rock ‘n’ Roll 1/2 Marathon on October 24, 2010. It will be a year almost to the day since I started running, and it seemed a good milestone to hit at that point in my running life. Lots of people start running and almost immediately decide to run a marathon. I’m not that guy. Since deciding I want to run barefoot, I’ve consciously taken it slowly, building endurance and improving my running form carefully. It hasn’t actually been slowly and carefully enough to avoid all issues. I’ve had minor problems with my ankles, calves, achilles, and recently my knee, most of them directly related to pushing too far and doing too much, too soon. I guess it might be easier to start being physically active at 16 or 26 than at 36, especially since my soft choirboy history has meant I’ve done almost nothing athletic since my parents stopped making me play peewee soccer, which I truly sucked at.

But, I digress. I decided early on I wouldn’t consider running a marathon until I’d been running regularly for at least a year. So I signed up for this 1/2 at the one year mark, and figured after that I’d reevaluate and decide what’s next. I’m already thinking a marathon in 2011 might be in the cards, but I gotta get through this 1/2 first. So, I made a plan. I’ve been reading Daniel’s Running Formula, recommended to me by a sports doc friend and several others on dailymile. This Jack Daniels guy, in addition to making some kick ass whiskey, is also apparently a pretty good running coach. This book is about hard core running training, and he’s got programs for everything from 800 meters to the marathon. So, using the book, I mapped out my 1/2 marathon training schedule. Considering the way my life works, I knew I wouldn’t stick 100% to the plan. I’m sure I’ll shift a workout from one day to another and probably even skip one here and there. The plan I’ve created is more than enough to get me comfortably through the race, so I’m fine with all that. But I didn’t really expect to be taking the second week of my training plan almost completely off. Between this knee pain that cropped up last week and this knock-me-on-my ass sickness thing that started yesterday, this has not been a banner running week.

Missing a week of training, especially with the race still many months away, doesn’t worry me. What does worry me is the thought that my body may not let me do what I want to do. Until now, my running has been pretty free form. I’ve run when I wanted to, and when I could make time. I never had an an official weekly mileage goal, and I certainly never had a training plan. Now that I do, it bothers me when I can’t at least come close to sticking to it. Though it builds up slowly, the plan maxes out at 40 miles a week. I’ve never run much over 20. What if my body can’t take that kind of mileage? Though it mostly focuses on pretty easy running, the plan includes some tempo runs and speed work. What if things break down when I try to run fast?

None of this is worth losing a lot of sleep over, I know. If it turns out running 20 miles a week is as much as I can take and stay injury-free, well, that’s a hell of a lot more than I was running a year ago (0 miles a week). And if running distance races isn’t for me, that’s OK too. I like running, and I’d keep doing it even if I could rarely make it into double digits in a single run.

The reason all this bothers me as much as it does, I think, is that for the last few months,  running has been the part of my life that’s been going really well. It’s fun, my friends are inspired by it, and it’s helped me get really healthy for the first time in a while. Other aspects of my life, particularly on the work front, have not been so great. There have been some glimmer of hope there in the last few days, but it’s still a source of worry. So, to see a crack in the plaster of the thing that has really been helping me hold it all together, that worries me. But I’m not gonna let it stop me.

I’ll get over this illness, I’ll work out this knee thing, and I’ll get back to running. And working. For actual money. And not worrying so damn much. On that note, I give you a photo from the XTERRA Malibu Creek Trail Race a couple weeks back. It was a tough race, and I ran it well. Despite the fact I think it was the beginning of my knee woes, I was certainly having fun when this shot was taken. I’m sure I’ll get back there soon.

I missed my own blogiversary. This blog is now one-year old. Yay blog!

I started badassdadblog on April 14, 2009. That first post was titled “stuff that’s hard,” and in the 12 months since, I think I’ve done my share of that sort of stuff. I’m not sure a full recap of the last year is worth the time to read (or write), and much of that you could get by going through the archives, if you wanted. But I do want to share a few things on this auspicious occasion.

March for Babies 2010. Photo by Megan Hook.

I’m very proud to have walked in last weekend’s March for Babies with Heather, Mike, and Annabelle Spohr (who is clearly slacking off by not having her own blog. I mean, you’re three months old, kid! What are you waiting for?). This blog was largely inspired by the amazing courage, resilience, and support I witnessed from and surrounding the Spohrs when they lost their first daughter, Madeline, just over a year ago, because of complications related to her premature birth. I discovered many wonderful things through those events. An amazing community of parents and others, an enjoyable and valuable outlet in writing, and the power of social media to bring people together in very real ways.

Another thing I’m proud and happy about is my health and fitness. I’m in better physical shape than I’ve been at any other time in my life. I’m wearing pants the size I wore in high school, and I ran 10 miles last week. In a row! That’s huge for me. I’ve been running regularly since October 2009, and the benefits have been amazing. Weight loss and fitness are definitely among them, but so has been finding yet another wonderful online and real life community: runners. Much of that has been through dailymile, which has been a constant source of motivation, support, and inspiration for me as a new runner.

Here’s how many miles I’ve logged so far:

Better yet, here’s how many donuts I’ve burned:

Other areas of my life have been less rosy. OK, to be fair, there’s really just ONE area I have any reasonable right to bitch about: work. Or, more specifically, lack of work. Or, if we’re being REALLY specific, lack of income. I’ve certainly been busy for most of the last year. Between working with a close friend on his startup business, building web pages for small businesses with a former coworker, and many days being full-time dad, there’s been no shortage of WORK. There’s just been a shortage of monetary compensation. I think one day I’ll look back on this year, a year where I have been able to spend more time with my boys and my wife than ever before, and think how lucky I was. But that will be much easier once I am again gainfully employed, and not worried about the steadily sinking waterline of our savings.

I’ve written less often here recently. I don’t know if that’s good or bad, or whether I plan to do more or less in the future. I intend to keep writing, and I expect I’ll go through periods when I’ll write a lot, and others when I’ll write less. Whatever the case, I want to sincerely thank you. All of you who read, comment on, and share this blog with me. It’s been a really exciting, challenging, fun year. How about we go for two?

I run for me.

To be healthy. To feel better. To look better. To live longer. To be able to eat and drink more of what I want and still be fit. I run because both my grandfathers and my father had heart attacks before they turned 60. To paraphrase Christopher McDougall in Born To Run paraphrasing George Bernard Shaw, “You don’t stop running because you get old. You get old because you stop running.”

I run for my wife.

To have more energy. To be hotter. To be better in bed.

I run for my kids.

To play more energetically with them. To show them being active is good for you and fun. To survive long enough to see them move out and build their own lives.

I run for my grandkids.

To meet the grandkids I may one day have, and be able to play with them, too.

I run for you.

This came later. I didn’t start out running for you. No offense. I like you. But you’re not why I started to run (unless you’re listed above). But as I’ve been doing it, and sharing my experience here, and on Twitter, and on dailymile, I’ve found it feels great when people tell me I inspired them to run, or walk, or get off the couch. And that, that sense of community, that evidence that doing what’s best for me can inspire someone to do what’s best for them, that is by far the most unexpected benefit of running. So for that, thank you.

See you out there.

This is a companion piece to one the nice folks at dailymile graciously allowed me to post on the dailymile community blog, where I talk more about running barefoot and in Vibram Fivefingers, and about becoming a runner in general.

Do you smell something?

Lately I’ve been talking a lot about running. Talking, writing, chatting, emailing, tweeting, and conversing about running. If you missed the memo, I’ve been running for the last few months. By my previous standards, which were not running ever, at all, except after my kids to prevent certain death, I’ve been running a lot. For the last month I’ve averaged over 20 miles a week, steadily increasing since the beginning of this year. My longest run to date has been seven miles, and I have an eight mile run planned for tomorrow morning. (EDIT: That eight mile run didn’t happen today. Sorry, Eminem. Stupid daylight saving time. It’ll happen another time.) If you’re reading this on my site, look to the right and you should see a dailymile widget showing my latest run. Click through and you can see my recent running history. If you run or do any kind of regular exercise, I highly recommend dailymile, by the way.

But this post isn’t really about running. Well, not entirely, anyway. It’s about what I listen to while I run, and other times.

In running, as in most things, people tend to fall into camps. Factions. People like to take sides. I’m sure there are more of these groups than I even know about. These aren’t necessarily rival camps, but they are distinct groups, with different points of view on various issues.

One divide is between barefoot/minimalist runners and the traditional running shoe crowd. In fact, this can be even further divided. Diehard barefooters would claim a camp unto themselves, and would likely want nothing to do with the minimalist footwear folk. I straddle the line between barefoot and minimalist running. I may eventually go fully one way or the other, but for now I do both, depending on a variety of factors. Most of my miles to this point (roughly 230 of them) have been in Vibram Fivefingers, with about 30 miles run completely barefoot. I fully believe traditional running shoes don’t do much to prevent injury or improve performance, and aren’t really necessary. But I’m already going deeper into this than I meant to here. The point is, I’m on one side of this debate, and there are a great many more on the other.

Another fairly sharp divide is between runners who listen to music when they run, and those who don’t. I don’t. Lots of people do. While I know I’m in a clear and distinct minority when it comes to barefoot running, I’m not sure about this one. I think this split is closer to even, but I’d wager more folks listen to music when they run than don’t, based on what I’ve seen and heard. Some of my reasons for not listening to music while I run are similar to the reasons I don’t usually wear my iPod when I walk on city streets, don’t listen to music while I work, and why I ALMOST NEVER text while driving. It’s distracting. For someone who’s spent his life making and studying music, the amount of time I spend listening to it is fairly small compared to many. The degree to which I’ve devoted my life to music is in part the REASON I don’t listen to it that often. For me, music is immersive. I can’t ignore music while I focus on something else. If it’s on, I’m listening to it. Really listening. If there were music playing while I was writing now, I’d be all kinds of distracted, and would most likely either stop writing or turn off the music. The same applies when I run. It could be cool to have a soundtrack while running. But it would take me out of the moment, and away from the experience of what’s going on. There’s a safety factor here, especially since I run mostly on the streets of Los Angeles, but it’s not entirely about safety. Part of it is about focus.

Running for me, a bit like music, is a fully engaged activity. In part because I run barefoot (or almost), the sound of my footfalls matters to me. The quieter they are, the more correct my form. If my feet are slapping the pavement, something is wrong. But beyond that, I want to hear the world around me. Wind in the trees, birds, creatures of the world, other people, cars. These things are all part of the experience of running. If I were running on a treadmill (which, by the way, I have yet to do since I started running regularly), I would very likely listen to something. But out in the world, I want to hear myself, and the world.

I said this post isn’t about running, and it’s really not. I want to tell you about what I listen to when I DO listen to something besides the noises going on around me. The fact is, most of the time, what I listen to isn’t music. It’s words. Spoken words. More specifically, radio shows and podcasts that are mostly speech.

My favorite podcast (actually a radio show on NPR which, like pretty much everything else I listen to, I can’t bother to structure my life around being available while it’s actually ON the radio so instead download and enjoy the podcast whenever the hell I like) is This American Life with Ira Glass. If you do not listen to This American Life, you are missing some of the best storytelling around. Not just on radio, but anywhere. For me to describe it doesn’t really do it justice, but it is a mix of fiction and journalism, art and real life, that to me is one of the best things going.

In a similar vein, but with a rather more scientific, existential bent, is Radiolab. Jad Abumrad and Robert Krulwich do something similar to This American Life, in that they pick a theme for each show and tell stories around that theme. But theirs are generally focused on science. What is time? What is music, and how does it relate to language? What does it mean to be self-aware? What’s the difference between humans and animals? Cool stuff, very well done, great show.

More recently, at the suggestion of Will at betheboy.com, I’ve been listening to The Best Show on WFMU with Tom Scharpling. This is basically a traditional talk radio format, with a comedy writer for  a host and a fairly liberal bent. It’s three hours long, and while not every minute of every show is amazing, there are some really wonderful moments. I have to say, I muse on the title now and then. Is it The Best Show of those currently on WFMU, or is it actually The Best Show of any available, and simply happens to be on WFMU? Perhaps we’ll never know.

Another regular download for me is Dan Savage’s Savage Love Cast. I first became aware of Dan Savage through his occasional appearances on This American Life. He’s a gay sex advice columnist based in Seattle. To be clear, he’s gay and gives sex advice. The advice itself isn’t necessarily gay, nor is the sex about which the advice is given. Savage Love is his sex advice column, and the Savage Lovecast is the audio version that column. He’s candid, direct, uncensored, and often bitchy, and I find him hilarious. Your mileage may vary.

So here I’ve said most of what I wanted to say, and in the end I wrote more about running than I did about the topic I claimed this post was about. That’s actually rather typical of my life lately. I start off talking about work, family, music, whatever, and end up going on about running. I hope this means I’ve found something I truly enjoy, which, for a change, is unequivocally good for me. Hopefully me going on about it doesn’t drive everyone around me crazy.

So, runner or not, what are you listening to?