Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Type Casted?!? (copy)

I must be in a rut. Lately, when people stop me to talk about a good book, they qualify the book as either right down my alley or something I wouldn’t want to read. Hey, a good book is a good book, but I have noticed the right-down-my-alley books are Southern genre, Mississippi authors or readable nonfiction. When did I get in this rut?

Looking back at last year’s work, I do favor these types of books. I steer away from self-help, romance and inspirational, but I thought I read a variety. In my mind it would be hard for anyone to recognize a pattern. Ha! I even had a co-worker say I never book talk self-help titles.

I have an unproven or unstudied theory about self help books. They appeal to the early 20s through middle 30s reader. The person who is looking for a relationship, tweaking a marriage, seeking a better career, going back to school, having a baby, saving money, etc. Those people who have come to the realization that they do not know it all and could use some sound advice.

I did read self-help books, but at some point I became the advisor. I would take what I read and spit it out as fact. Can you say annoying? Now, I go to self help when I have a specific problem. I read everything I can and then try to make a master plan to follow. I do not talk about the books read because I consider them personal.

Here is an example of my latest reads that you know nothing about: 4 Months to a 4-Hour Marathon by David Kuehls, Brain Training for Runners by Matt Fitzgerald, What I Talk about When I Talk about Running by Haruki Murakami, and Run Fast: How to Beat Your Best Time Every Time by Hal Higdon.

Okay, stop laughing those of you who have seen me run. Who am I kidding, right?!? Slugs lift up their back tails to wave at me as they pass by. I have to take a shower when done because moss has grown on my north side. Why, slow-motion action looks speedy alongside me.

I am no runner. At my 13 minute mile pace, I will be lucky to finish a marathon in 6 hours. I can dream though. I can pretend these books might make a difference. When the wind blows my hair back, I can imagine it is because of my speed. The pain I endure is from my athletic prowess and not old age.

So, now you know. The ruts I am stuck in are our Mississippi roads.

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