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I run with a fanny pack. There’s really no other way to put it—I’ve tried to manufacture other names to call it like “runner’s belt” or “awesome pouch” but it’s a fanny pack. I wear it backwards and underneath my shirt so as not to draw attention to it and bring shame on my family. I need it to hold my iPhone and other things like a note that reads, “If you find me passed out on the side of the road, tell the world this is an ‘awesome pouch.’” I wore my fanny pack while running the PF Chang’s half-marathon recently in Tempe. In an effort to not have to check any bags, I was forced to put other things into my fanny pack, namely my car keys and driver’s license. The latter item was not for identification purposes should something happen, but specifically so that I had the proper credentials to acquire the post race free beer. After I finished, I happily arrived at a spot on the field to wait for my mom and father-in-law. That feeling of relief and satisfaction was immediately replace...

Note: This column appears in the 9/1 issue of The Glendale Star and the 9/2 issue of the Peoria Times After four years of blissful enjoyment of my outdoor desert surroundings, it was bound to happen. Last week I came face-to-face with a coyote. Granted, our faces were about 25 yards apart, but still. I had just finished a jog around the neighborhood, and was cooling down by walking around the cul de sac near our street that overlooks a barren desert that should have been developed years ago (thanks, economy!) when our eyes met. It was very similar to that time I was viciously attacked by bears (don’t know what I’m talking about? Buy the book !) in that I felt extremely vulnerable. He—I didn’t think to check the genitalia from afar, so let’s go with “he”—sized me up. I have heard that when confronted by a coyote, one should make lots of noise and move menacingly forward as a means of intimidating the great beast. But we were far enough apart that I didn’t feel overtly threate...

Note: This column appears in the 1/15 issue of The Glendale Star and the 1/16 issue of the Peoria Times The PF Chang’s Rock ‘n’ Roll Arizona Marathon & ½ Marathon is this Sunday. The question posed on the front of the packet I received in the mail one month ago reads: Are you ready to rock Arizona? Well, I don’t know. I’m not even certain if I will last 13 miles, and if I do, I am unsure whether that feat in and of itself will sufficiently rock the state of Arizona. We’ll just have to wait and see. As of right now, I have one more training run left before race day. In physically preparing myself to run a ½ marathon, I am left with one serious question: How does a person run a marathon? Honestly. I just don’t understand. I have been training to run, literally, half the distance of a full marathon, and by the seventh mile, I can no longer feel my legs, and I am left running on a cloud of self-admonition and artificial adrenaline pumping into my ears from my iPod. If someone were to...