#57: Run Coyote Point, Edge To Edge.
Greetings from paradise! A runner’s paradise, that is. Sweaty, panting with staggered breaths, rain-soaked, completely butt-covered with pricklies from leaning up against a eucalyptus tree, I’m now wondering what the hell I got myself into this morning. I was craving a run at Coyote Point, a 620-acre national park and protected shoreline jutting into the Bay, south of the airport between Burlingame and San Mateo – an undiscovered haven for runners and early birds alike. Yet, despite…
#49: Tackle Apt Hunting Like A Full Contact Sport.
Tackle it with a helluva thick skin and chutzpah. Do that and you just might not end up in the Tenderloin. It’s taken me 4 weeks, 3 apartments, 202 emails, 47 miles, 646 [espresso] shots, 7 forms of public transit and 1 college dorm room to discover an inevitable fact about SF: If the apartment hunting process doesn’t chew you up into bite-size, San Francisco bedroom-size pieces, roll you around like fresh Sushi or spit you…