I went inside for lunch, surely, and at night, of course, but otherwise remained flat on my back on the table.
He writes in a style like he's speaking.
24 Matching Annotations
- Jan 2019
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www.newyorker.com www.newyorker.com
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www.outsideonline.com www.outsideonline.com
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He was blunt
An equally blunt statement.
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We admire their monomania, and we distrust it.
I enjoy finding words to look up, plus, after finding out what "monomania" meant, I discovered this was also very interesting insight into hero and average Joe relationships.
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the french fries
See above
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french fries
Interestingly enough referenced to in the conclusion
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He’s got a wife who wants to sit on the couch with him and watch Game of Thrones
Ethos-he's just an ordinary guy
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nearly aerated with a screwdriver
Beautiful verb with a grisly image
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To watch these clips is to feel a bit like indulging in pornography
Fascinating simile, to what end, I cannot decipher
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while in the saddle
Almost like how a cowboy would care for his horse..."saddle"
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Bicycles have stories.
This and the following paragraph relay the fact that these aren't just bikes. They are ways of commuting, hobbies, lifestyles. Sometimes expensive hobbies and lifestyles.
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Batman returned 24 bicycles
Dropped the "Bike" from his name. This is justified by the statistics that follow.
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As the old joke goes, you don’t have to outrun the lion, you only have to outrun your buddy
Not even annotating, that's just funny
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Then, a) crystal meth, b) crystal meth, and c) crystal meth
Repetition emphasizing that crystal meth is the major driving force behind the robberies.
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Emerald City
Makes Seattle appear as a city a superhero would be defending
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I pulled on my shoes and ran for hours through the darkness,
Running is an escape, and without running, he must face the darkness he once ran through.
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Throughout the course of human history, 40 years was more than enough time for us to sire children, run down the meat to feed them, and wink at the grandkids before death by sabertooth
By evidence of history, middle-aged men are obsolete, no longer immortal in their own minds.
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I smell my father on me,
Another example that Colonel's fears and shortcomings were somewhat inherited by Solomon.
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He says he fears that he was not the person he wanted to be.
Solomon has similar fears.
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When I reach a small rise, even this modest challenge robs me of breath. It is useless, I think. I should give up. The wind sighs its opinion to the tall trees. The minute’s rest is over. I don’t know what else to do. So I run.
Choppy, broken lines compel you to absorb every word.
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When the wheels start coming off an athlete’s chassis at middle age, the big surprise isn’t that it happens.
Comparing himself to the old, beat-up Mercury
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As I circled the lake, it was hard not to think about the end of things—of long days, cloudless skies, and freedom.
Foreshadowing, as the end of his running career is also at hand.
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I saw physiatrists, osteopaths, orthopedists, and two vascular surgeons, who breezed in late, scowled at my legs, and left.
Doctors on doctors on doctors. The list tells us just how far he's going to restore his calf.
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Therapists scraped tendons with metal tools, as if I were an old hide in need of softening. Pints of blood were drawn and spun
Gruesome imagery
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I submitted to the needlepoint of acupuncture, the feather touch of Bowenwork, the spasm of strain-counterstrain technique
More lists, exhibiting further attempts for recovery.
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