I am a hobbyist writer and currently publish on a personal Substack. I mainly share personal essays and recaps that round up interesting reads I've found.
Follow along:
During an ultramarathon, I prowl a deeper nature among the hills of southern Vermont. On half-light, defamiliarization, hidden giants, pickle juice, blood blisters, equestrian encounters, self-transcendance, our compulsion for self-destruction, primordial rites, true endurance, and Cormac McCarthy pastiche.
One year after spectating the NYC Marathon, I find myself on the other side as a runner. On listicle slop, the augurs of fall, a new fitness empire, poop eggs, wet hay, a brittle shin, post-hardcore punk, beet juice, the Bava Batra, an antithesis to war, platonic toil, commitment issues, and the meaning of greatness.
A creation myth about my first one thousand miles of running. On hypocrisy, simulacrua, paradoxes, gonzo journalism, evolutionary anthropology, athleisure, performativity, toy models of ambition, Olympian aesthetics, embracing the suck, midstride vignettes, crises of meaning, and momentary flight.
I document my journey from amateur shower singer to Carnegie Hall performer. On monuments in plain sight, victory laps, the methodical art of screwing around, gaming serendipity, a day of wrath, classical music criticism, a bungled tuba gig, romantic banalities, activities that don't scale, and aleatoricity.
A questionable race report and recount of a fascinating out-of-body experience. On tryhards, ruined watercolors, thick fog, reconstructed footage, an exercise in phenomenology, an invocation of Descartes, bad dreams, the Ides of March, post-hoc coping strategies, moral hazard, annihilation, and self-ridicule.
A micro-anthropological report on the bikes darting about the streets of NYC. On CitiBike abuse, selection effects, stuntmen, hustlers, a hunger for power, skin-tight spandex, grown-up toys, hotliners, slipstream conversations, visions of domination, mother tongues, dehumanized vermin, and the ouroboros.
I fall victim to the costly hedonism that has defined the contemporary downhill skiing industry. On ancient hydrology, Mormon exoduses, constellatory nights, orographic lift, gnar, gapers, frosty reveries, gargatuan snakes, a snowy bathroom break, Walmart murals, luxury opiates, and torrid visions of the future.
After my grandfather's passing, I return to my father's homestead in Hunan. On zhiqing, the middle of nowhere, wrinkles of Earth, submerged cities, abandoned villages, tourism bubbles, viscous humidity, estranged palates, canine standoffs, crab-catching, a congregation of insects, concrete harbingers, and living history.
My first fall living in NYC, I gallop around to spectate the NYC Marathon. On the Big City Marathon™, subway babble, ball lightning, dual parades, a cinematic evocation, senseless acts of kindness, collective bliss, missed connections, a fleeting gravitas, a resistance against poetry, and fifty-five thousand stories.