and exercise would be unusual, but it isn’t. When I started running, I’d sit down on the sofa afterwards and light up a cigarette. It drove my son crazy. “How can you do that?” he would ask. It was easy. Like my e-mail friend, in those days I was tied in ‘nots
I’ve admitted this before in my column. But I suppose if confession is good for the soul, repeating the confession can’t hurt. So here goes: I’m crazy about running shoes. No I really am and I’m not joking.I like to look at them, read about them
