FLESH AND BLOOD AND INK

When I announced I was writing Running: A Love Story, my family assumed the memoir would be in the same vein as what I wrote about running in newspapers and magazines at the time: that it’s a ridiculous thing to do, and that I loved it, with a lot of humor and possibly complaining about heat thrown in.

Then an excerpt ran in the just before the book came out. The excerpt was about how a horrible relationship with an alcoholic fueled my insecurities and led to an eating disorder