Translation: my ·update. Just checking in to wish you happiness and let you know I'm doing wicked good.

Today I’m going to tell you a story about my total solar eclipse experience and it’s aftermath, and give you an update on my foot reconstruction surgery and my plans to return to the road and assume, once again, the role of “Steve Runner”. A Total Eclipse of the Sun is a spectacular convergence of Copernican alignment that demonstrates the power of science and our being present in a beautiful universe.

A quick "check-in" to update you on my right foot and plans to run again!

And there’s a hand, my trusty fiere! And gie’s a hand o’ thine! And we’ll tak a right guid willy waught, For auld lang syne.

Here's a little pre-Xmas message for you to ponder as I hop around my house with my new "FrankenFoot". Also, I'll read some feedback messages left for me on the Apple Podcast page. Have a great Holiday (whatever you celebrate, or not).

In the spring of 1958, a friend of Hunter S Thompson asked for advice on how to live his life.  What follows is a letter that Thompson wrote him, during the very early moments of his writing career.

The universe, of which I am a part, is experiencing entropy. Change is coming, and I’m committed to eventually lacing up my shoes and running again. Because although I’ll one day become nothing more than an unstable collection of positronium atoms that will eventually poof out of existence…that day is not today, and I have time.

I’m long past the impulsive need for an invisible flying spaghetti monster in space called to answer my wishful mutterings  - the palindrome for that imaginary entity might just be something I do require:   I don’t need "God".   I need a Dog.

Sit back, relax and enjoy a delicious podcast filled with cheesy goodness delivered right into your brain.

Dear Eva: You were my sweetie. You took after your Lemon beagle birth mother, Honey. Your father was a tri-colored beagle named Joey (also your brother Indiana Jone’s father). Born on May 28th, 2010: you were the scrawniest of the litter of seven. I first saw you in a cage where your brothers and sisters were stepping all over you: I knew you were “the one”.    You, little girl, were a “scootch”: always excited to go for a walk, constantly sniffing for bunnies but never really wanting to catch one. You’re the only puppy I’ve ever known who, when a toy was thrown, would run to get the toy and then run away in another direction. You were my “little girl” Eva, Jones Walker and you were never one to “fetch”.  You loved to play during treat time, where we would “dance around the treat” until you were able to grab it (and not sure if you noticed, but you always won the treat). You loved to sleep on the top of the couch and in the morning would always make the effort to “army crawl” on your belly, up from the bottom of the bed to see us. Yours was a life of a princess, and you were always the one in charge. I’ll miss you every day. You filled our lives with such incredible joy. “Hey, Sweetie? Wanna go for a WALK?”. Tree-si-so.