It’s funny how quickly things change. Back in May and June of last year I spent a good amount of time complaining about running and if you asked me then, if I’d ever read a memoir about running I would’ve looked at you like your face just fell off. Needless to say, I’m still not enamored with running, but I can say I’m incredibly glad I read it and it’s made me think differently how I will approach the future (both running and normal).
I stumbled across this book randomly and once I got it from my local library I read it in less than two days. I requested it because Murakami’s fiction writing is some of the most beautiful I’ve ever read and I wanted to know how it translated to nonfiction. Not only did it translate amazingly, but this was the exact book I needed to read at the moment. I’ve been struggling to make it to CrossFit and to keep up my training/running.
For my first, and probably only, foray into James Bond this was definitely a good one. Compared to other spy novels I’ve read like 
Coming back to Maupin’s San Francisco is like going home after a really long vacation. There’s something comforting and something genuinely nice about being back on Barbary Lane. (See the first quote under Additional Quotes).