pizza always 🍕
it’s official: i'm running the 2027 tokyo marathon. sub-3 is the goal, 70-mile training weeks will be the price. i’m doing it in honor of billy and a japanese juvenile diabetes charity. training has already included dehydration, a bee sting on my foot, a pulled hamstring, and a new weird stride issue. so, a pretty smooth start.
modern dating rewards keeping a roster. i tried it, built a spreadsheet, and hated what it turned people into. i’m too chalant for that. for me, dating is binary: one or zero.
spent a few sundays rebuilding the old backyard pond while trying to make this house feel more like mine after years of building spaces for other people. now there are six shubunkins, a waterfall, one annoyed groundhog, two bee stings, and still somehow all the mosquitoes in west philly. walden, but with deet.
after more than twenty years of fundraising, setbacks, construction, and stubborn belief, friday night’s gala felt like the true celebration of the lansdowne theater’s return. for me, it was about more than saving an old building — it was about helping bring a piece of lansdowne’s soul back to life, honoring my dad’s hometown memories, and seeing a dream finally become real.
2026-03-28: i randomly found this old article/interview that was published on a running blog about my first (and so far, only) marathon in 2022. as i begin my training for tokyo marathon 2027, i thought this was a fun re-read.
went to italy for culinary school and came back with a different realization: the life i built at home works perfectly… but might not be the one i actually want to live. a month of cooking, running by the sea, making friends, and putting the phone down reminded me that the best parts of life are the ones you participate in, not the ones you consume.
my uncle harry passed away this week. he was the person my dad sent me to when i needed the truth about money, risk, and life. this is a memory about generosity, bad advice i ignored, and one last night of pizza and laughter.
a goal on my whiteboard since 2018 was to write a christmas song, but lacking musical ability kept it stuck for years. after diving into suno ai, those lyric ideas finally became music — and instead of one song, i ended up with a full christmas album built from childhood memories. i’m conflicted about the ai part, but also really glad the work finally exists. 🎄
fed up with apps, i tried somatic dating — a weird, hippy-dippy, eye-gazing experiment in real connection.
after a long night of limping and hunting for food in a half-closed town, i ended up in a locals-only pub, got adopted by a guy named kevin who kept handing me guinness, and then caught the early bus back to dublin. there, i slipped some of my dad’s and bill’s ashes into the crypt at st. michan’s, swapped my heavy pack for lighter gear, saw friends, and heard live trad music — and decided it was time to get my wrecked leg checked before pushing on.
SERIES REPOST 2022: day six (~22 miles; ~103 total) hurt like hell — my left leg was blowing up, every step felt like a knife, and i still pushed to finish the wicklow way, score a secret pub pint, and get my completion certificate from an older couple who’ve been blessing hikers for decades. i limped into bunclody swollen, borderline broken, and made the call to bus back to dublin, drop weight, and face the fact that my body might be done, even if my head isn’t.
SERIES REPOST 2022: day five was tinahely: soaking wrecked legs, eating a full irish, and stumbling into this tiny wicklow village’s real heartbeat — a holy well tied to st. patrick where i left some of dad and bill’s ashes, and a rowdy pre-wedding pub night where strangers adopted me as “the yank.” i suppose i didn't rest much, yet i refilled everything that mattered.
SERIES REPOST 2022: day four (~21 miles; ~73 total) pushed me to my limit — no coffee, scarce water, and a grueling final descent into tinahely. between a fox at dawn, worms in my rainwater, and aching legs begging for mercy, i learned that sometimes survival looks like a hot soak, a burger, and a well-earned pint.
SERIES REPOST 2022: day three (~15 miles; ~52 total) was slower and social, then a crowded glendalough lunch before a long, less-scenic climb to an empty adirondack hut. i slept open to the night, visited by animals of varying sizes, and drifted off thinking about bill — his strength, the weight of what we couldn’t fix, and the small peace of some loving final words.
SERIES REPOST 2022: two grueling days and nearly forty miles in, the weight of my pack—mr. osprey—felt heavier than ever. between endless climbs, slipping on trails, sharing laughs with fellow hikers, scattering ashes for dad and bill, and stumbling upon a heavenly campsite just in time, i learned that exhaustion, luck, and small kindnesses all travel the same road.
SERIES REPOST 2022: day one of the coast-to-coast trek began at poolbeg lighthouse, adding nine miles through dublin before even reaching the wicklow way. a kind cab driver, a few lessons in irish hospitality, and my first night wild-camping marked a humbling, unforgettable start to the journey.
SERIES REPOST 2022: a reunion years in the making — i landed in dublin to stay with my old friend mick, whose chance meeting with my sister years ago sparked a lifelong friendship between our families. over pints, memories, and laughter, we remembered my dad and brother bill, and the book that first inspired this coast-to-coast walk across Ireland.
SERIES REPOST 2022: as a tribute to my dad, brother, and our shared love of Ireland, i attempt to solo hike 387-mile from Dublin to Dursey Island to honor their memory, celebrate movement, and raise funds for the Pulmonary Fibrosis Foundation. Along the way, I’m seeking connection with nature, my roots, and myself. Part 1 of 9.
