Running Books

The ancient adage that medicine has to taste bad to be good for you doesn't apply in the case of Management By Running In Circles. It's a thoroughly enjoyable and enlightening read! I've been employed by many corporations throughout my life...some large and some small. Many times, in the transition from one company to another, I've found my new home in a track that was trailing my previous employer, and I watched in wonder as we blundered down the same path, making the same mistakes. It reminds me of the movie, Groundhog Day. How long must we continue traveling this circuitous path...until we get it right? For whatever reasons, and whether you're on top of the heap or on the bottom, you are sure to enjoy this book...as well as learn from it.

I bought this book because of the promise of an explanation of why things happen in business. Well, I certainly was not disappointed! Throughout the chapters, I saw that finally, someone had put on paper what was always known about business practices - but only on the INSIDE of the conference rooms. Mr. Smith has not really told anything new...fads have been coming back around and fading out again for years. However, in this book, the truth is told. Companies aren't coming up with anything new and innovative. They merely recycle the old theories and brandish them as "brand new", along with the promise that they will make the company a better and more profitable place. Inevitably, the company starts losing money and the whole cycle starts anew. I have recommended to my entire staff that they read this book, so that they can also understand what is going on.

As the book description states, this takes "The Peter Principle" and "Who Moved My Cheese" to a whole different level, focusing not on individual success and adaptation, nor on how people move up. Rather, this book focuses on the "whole" of the company, and how it affects everything in the operations of that company.

I have already started going over our own business plan and can tell you now that while changes are in order, we are not going to fall into this cyclic trap again. Thank you Mr. Smith, for being bold enough to bare the mistakes we make...and giving us the chance to correct them while there is still time!!

The Foyt's highly entertaining and unique novel contains much which is laudable, they are to be commended on creating a scenario which draws the reader into an atmosphere of pervasive trepidation and tension. The Foyts write with a deadly directness and the narrative is an excellent example of great subtlety and simplicity allowing the life of the characters to become the life of the story. Tautness and control are abundantly evident as they handle the highs and the lows, the miseries and rewards, peculiar to the life of a long-distance runner; the inevitable fusing of the psyche into the rural landscape and the splendid isolation encountered by the lone marathon runner: "Triggered by her physical effort and the magnificent view, Cotton's endorphins, those natural brain-induced opiates, raced through her mind and her body, elevating her being into the phenomenon known as runner's high...Alas, Cotton's feelings of elation lasted only seconds. Her nirvana, arching into a fragile glow, diminished as she returned to earth to run in arduous reality." There are many examples of lovely, fluent descriptive prose: "A boundless ocean of land, its hills rising in massive gray-green swells, its white rock outcroppings cresting, flowed before Cotton's eyes as she drove her pick-up truck along the state highway east from El Paso." And the truly horrific and graphic account of Burley's heart attack at the wheel of his truck is brought off with remarkable aplomb and ingenuity: "Without warning a sharp pain stabbed deep within his hulk. A rupture had occurred at the junction of a coronary artery and feeder vessel. Like a hose in an unserviced engine hardened by wear and tear, the artery wall burst open. In response, Burley's body automatically shifted into a state of alert, and summoned his 911 rescue squad--the platelets in his blood stream, whose mission it was to patch things up..."

The Foyts have a great understanding of modern-day dilemmas and mid-life crises and this is manifest in their handling of the central characters, particularly Lawrence Masterson, who wakes up, age fifty, in the grip of a particularly oppressive mid-life crisis: "After all, why had he gone to college, prepared and disciplined himself for life in corporate America, done his best, applied himself one hundred per cent. Why? To be shown the door and told he is through? At age fifty?" There is a lovely analogy in the manuscript which clearly illustrates Masterson's pessimistic state of mind and mounting feelings of despondency: "Tumbleweeds were blowing across the highway...He remembered looking at it and thinking how much he and the tumbleweed had in common--no roots anymore, no place to go, each of them bouncing along in any wind that blew." Reading Marathon, My Marathon, one senses that the Foyts are committed environmentalists because there is much talk of green issues, but the narrative is never hi-jacked in any way by such talk. And if the promotion of such issues is a hidden agenda within, they should be applauded because their treatment of such discussions is even-handed and carefully researched. And indeed, we should never be allowed to forget that the calamitous denouement is entirely plausible. Marathon, My Marathon is a brilliantly conceived story, eloquently delivered, which entertains and stimulates and raises pertinent questions which demand to be addressed.

The Foyt's highly entertaining and unique novel contains much which is laudable, they are to be commended on creating a scenario which draws the reader into an atmosphere of pervasive trepidation and tension. The Foyts write with a deadly directness and the narrative is an excellent example of great subtlety and simplicity allowing the life of the characters to become the life of the story. Tautness and control are abundantly evident as they handle the highs and the lows, the miseries and rewards, peculiar to the life of a long-distance runner; the inevitable fusing of the psyche into the rural landscape and the splendid isolation encountered by the lone marathon runner: "Triggered by her physical effort and the magnificent view, Cotton's endorphins, those natural brain-induced opiates, raced through her mind and her body, elevating her being into the phenomenon known as runner's high...Alas, Cotton's feelings of elation lasted only seconds. Her nirvana, arching into a fragile glow, diminished as she returned to earth to run in arduous reality." There are many examples of lovely, fluent descriptive prose: "A boundless ocean of land, its hills rising in massive gray-green swells, its white rock outcroppings cresting, flowed before Cotton's eyes as she drove her pick-up truck along the state highway east from El Paso." And the truly horrific and graphic account of Burley's heart attack at the wheel of his truck is brought off with remarkable aplomb and ingenuity: "Without warning a sharp pain stabbed deep within his hulk. A rupture had occurred at the junction of a coronary artery and feeder vessel. Like a hose in an unserviced engine hardened by wear and tear, the artery wall burst open. In response, Burley's body automatically shifted into a state of alert, and summoned his 911 rescue squad--the platelets in his blood stream, whose mission it was to patch things up..."

The Foyts have a great understanding of modern-day dilemmas and mid-life crises and this is manifest in their handling of the central characters, particularly Lawrence Masterson, who wakes up, age fifty, in the grip of a particularly oppressive mid-life crisis: "After all, why had he gone to college, prepared and disciplined himself for life in corporate America, done his best, applied himself one hundred per cent. Why? To be shown the door and told he is through? At age fifty?" There is a lovely analogy in the manuscript which clearly illustrates Masterson's pessimistic state of mind and mounting feelings of despondency: "Tumbleweeds were blowing across the highway...He remembered looking at it and thinking how much he and the tumbleweed had in common--no roots anymore, no place to go, each of them bouncing along in any wind that blew." Reading Marathon, My Marathon, one senses that the Foyts are committed environmentalists because there is much talk of green issues, but the narrative is never hi-jacked in any way by such talk. And if the promotion of such issues is a hidden agenda within, they should be applauded because their treatment of such discussions is even-handed and carefully researched. And indeed, we should never be allowed to forget that the calamitous denouement is entirely plausible. Marathon, My Marathon is a brilliantly conceived story, eloquently delivered, which entertains and stimulates and raises pertinent questions which demand to be addressed.

A fine complement to the earlier book "The Martini" by Barnaby Conrad. This book combines the history and philosophy of the martini (the principal focus of the Conrad book) with a collection of interesting recipes.

This small book is elegantly packed with big information about the Martini, gins, vodkas, vermouths and more! A straight up read for the serious bartender thirsty for more.

Mr. Shapiro is a storyteller. The journey runner Bob Dylan. Slick Rick. Johnny Cash. His words captivate and affect. Brush strokes drawn from the experiencial pallete of a colorful character, they allow others to accompany him on a journey of self-exploration and realization. Having had the good fortune of knowing Mr. Shapiro - he was my grade school teacher, cross-country and track coach and remains my friend and mentor - I expected something deep and real from the record of his transcon run. As usual the modest poet and philosopher left me marveling at his feats of body and mind, inspired to rise to my own. Beauty at its essence, Meditations is like a clear pool on an overcast day. If you look at it long enough you will see not only the surface but what lies beneath. Look again and you may find that you too are dancing with the soft water. I highly recommend Meditations From the Breakdown Lane to any and all.

I have read Shapiro's book several times. It details the very dispute that goes through his head as he runs 40+ miles per day from Coast to Coast. His book helped inspire me to run across the country as well and his words were with me each day. An excellent book well worth finding.

As a yoga teacher, I am always searching for new and interesting tools for my students to use in class. I picked up this deck in the late 90's, before the many alternative "decks" started arriving on the book shelves. Even though I have purchased many other decks, such as the don Miguel Ruiz "Mastery of Love" deck (which is also fantastic), I always go back to this simple, sweet and non-preachy set of cards.

How to use this deck? Well, I like to make a "wishing well" out of these cards. Empty them on the floor in a pile. Sit comfortably with your eyes closed and focus on the question or issue that is most constantly in your thoughts. Ask for guidance from your guardian spirits/higher self/God. With your non-dominant hand, choose one card and sit with it, without judgement. The mind will always chime in before you have really taken the time to get the deeper meaning. The artwork and word shown on each card is meant to assist one in going deep inside and feeling from within the wisdom or message contained in the image. You can silently chant the word to yourself to further intice the soul to reveal your Truth. After you have the feeling of the card in your mind's eye, stop looking at the card and enter a meditative state for a few minutes, looking inward for the still and peaceful Self that is always there.

Even when at first sight I would panic facing the idea of approaching a new age book i have to admit i have surrendered to the beauty of >this< book that happens to be much more than the simple wisdom it promises. Though simple indeed, the unending reflections of each bare word through the limitless suggestion of the artist's craft makes it a luminous drill that happens also to be useful to clean the eye of vigil as the one under those eyelids. Twice a treasure.

I bought this voodoo doll for a friend who needed a little spicing up in her love life. She brought the doll home and immediately cast a *love* spell on her particular obsession and attached it to a personal effect of her subject. She came home the very next day and found that her cat had managed to remove the doll from the personal effect and drug the doll off to some unknown death. Rather than find the doll and try it again, she didn't do anything. Two weeks later.....her romantic interest has been null and void. Coincidence? Or voodoo? You do the math.

If you're looking at the reviews on this page/info on the book to just quietly think to yourself, "This is such crud, who could waste their money? You people need the power of Jesus!" then just leave. Subconciously, however, you are interested in the subject. Why else would you be here? Anyways, I bought this kit and was fairly impressed! My spells, no matter how simple they were, always worked. I also found that the doll can be used for more things than love+relationships, I cured my migraines. Believe it or not, I stand my ground.

I first picked this up as a gift for my niece--now I've bought them for all the kids I know. They're perfect little presents. The press really does work, even though it is tiny. You can't go wrong with this one.

Simply put, this book by Ms. Tiger is the most expressive piece of literary non-fiction I've ever read. Huzzah, huzzah!

This book is a great guide to the non-paved alternatives in beautiful Monterey. I like the aquarium and all, but...! The guide covers 17 routes which range in difficulty from warm up to real "sweaters". It would also help condition those not too familiar with trail running. The greatest part is that many of the runs are connectable, which gives you a great deal of variety (even though the author frequently uses them for laps). It's the only one of its kind - I highly recommend it and getting out there!

Monterey Trail Runner's Guide is an excellent and superbly presented "where to" book for anyone with interest in outdoor exercise and the picturesque Monterey Peninsula. Veteran runner Jeffrey Van Middlebook aptly describes seventeen gorgeous trail runs, all the better to encourage fellow runners to escape the noisy, smog-laden cities and experience nature while staying fit. Four Monterey Peninsula parks are highlighted: Point Lobos State Reserve, Jacks Peak County Park, Mission Trail Park, and the Garland Ranch Regional Preserve. With its locator map and general terrain descriptions for each park or reserve, and augmented with tips on weather and trail conditions, parking information, mileage, difficulty ratings, and directions to the trail head, the Monterrey Trail Runner's Guide is very highly recommended for outdoor running and jogging enthusiasts with endurance!

The book was spellbinding!!!! Once I started it I could not put it down!!! My husband and I both love it, everyone should read this book. It will show you just how blessed you are, and how GOD can heal every and anything!!!! God Bless the author!!!!!!

I think the journey of the character (Morgan) is one to be shared with anyone struggling in any area of their life. I would recommend to anyone he needs a healing with in their spirit.

How can one talk about such a book of poems? Using my own words to describe Wesley McNair's is like using crude tools to probe a machine made with gleaming, finely calibrated instruments. Even that sounds simplistic, since we're talking of art. What it's really like is trying to play a Les Paul guitar with gloves on.

What McNair has done in My Brother Running is truly a miracle. To make his brother's story/poem so real, so emotional and sensual an experience for the reader, McNair gets you first to love this man who sailed the football through the K-Mart and gave the finger through the sunroof of his old American car, so that you don't just sympathize with the speaker's loss and anguish at his death; you hurt from it.

And where to even start with McNair's The Town of No? Each poem can be a starting point but also an ending point. Or a complete organism unto itself. I'm thinking of his ingenious observations, such as the consideration of the consciousness of the clichéd thugs in a Superman episode in "The Thugs of Old Comics"; or entertainment of the antithesis of an American cultural value in "The Fat Enter Heaven." It takes either a poet or a sorcerer to look at life from these fresh angles in order to show us more of life, or to compress a concept such as human regret and disconnectedness, as McNair did with the brilliant image of a revolving door ("My Brother Inside the Revolving Door").

Reading nonstop through The Town of No, one has nearly the sense of a music video, replete with silos and cows (who had no idea they were lifting their legs but were walking) and farmers in bib overalls-all of them serving not only as the cast of characters, but also as the props on the set (conveying texture and mood), and as symbols of the pull and push of human dreams and losses. But it's one particular poem, "Breath," in which a betrayed man tries to recreate his life's dream artificially, that is the profoundly aching representation of the body of McNair's work, as well as a reminder to me (who has, in the past, been disenchanted with sterile and coded contemporary verse) of how wonderful a poem can be-of what a poem ought to be.

On a recent visit to the exhibition "Picturing Old New England: Image and Memory," at the National Museum of American Art in DC, I was reminded of McNair's voice in the context of a world that is often idealized. As the curators demonstrate, New England has long been romanticized by artists and writers. More recently, it has been reduced to Bert 'n' I coziness. By contrast, McNair speaks about the region without nostalgia or sentimentality. He gives us what many others have left out: real places and real people, including the disenfranchised, the disconsolate, the plump and the limping. Remarkably, he brings the region to life, in all its complexity, with tenderness and love that can come only from someone inside the culture. In "My Brother Running," McNair tells of the world of a solitary jogger in a long poem which expands to explore, among other things, the national psyche at the time of the Challenger shuttle disaster. This is a moving book. I promise you won't be disappointed.