Ready to Run

I played half a game of pickleball this morning before I had to stop, my knee screaming. Pickleball—such a silly name for a sport I love so much; one that doesn’t love me back. I’m losing my left knee to pickleball, although basketball, softball, volleyball, and racquetball probably made their contributions long before pickleball became […]

From Pickleball to Pool

Dear Diary, Stroke, stroke, stroke, breathe left. That’s my cadence as I freestyle slowly from one end of the pool to the other. I try to choose my swim times when no one else is there. The pool opens at 9:00 AM, and that seems to work pretty well. By 11:00 AM, when the weather […]

Pickleball is Life

We women deal with the patriarchy and mansplaining and misogyny every single day of our lives. EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. Some of us deal with it from strangers, some from partners, some from husbands. We’re tired. We don’t want to deal with it any more.

It’s Not Cancer

Dear Diary, It’s not cancer. IT’S NOT CANCER.  I asked the ortho twice yesterday to be safe. Both times, he gave me an emphatic no. I’ll take that. As most of you know, my sister recently died of glioblastoma. Cancer—even the mention of it—scares the bajeezus out of me now. What it actually IS, however, […]

Moving into 2024

Dear Diary, The beginning of a new year is traditionally a time to think about how to become a better person, how much weight to lose, how much alcohol to give up, what kind of parenting to engage in, what career changes to make, how to be a better friend, a better human, a better […]

My Brain is Tired

Dear Diary, I’m new to Substack, and it feels a little bit like high school all over again. I’m already stressing about Chemistry. The cool kids are in one corner pegging their jeans, the jocks are in the other, flexing. The smarties are all bent over their books, and the nerds are taping their glasses. […]

A Pain Story

Dear Diary, My sweet mom lived with chronic pain. She was diagnosed with MS in her 50s and with neuropathy shortly thereafter. She wasn’t easily sidelined, my fierce and fabulous mother, but there were days she just couldn’t get out of bed. “My bad days,” she called them. “If you’re going to be in pain, […]