Sunday morning in the backyard. Six weeks and two days until The Long Run hits stores. It's going to be 90 degrees today. Now might be the best time to hit the trails and log a few miles before it gets too hot. But I'll ride the Peloton instead. Weekends are when the electric bikers and horse people crowd O'Neill. The solitude I crave is nowhere to be found. Weekdays I have the place to myself but Saturday and Sunday is for the masses.
My barber made small talk during a recent haircut, asking me which sports I favor. We proceeded to talk about the end of football season, the sorry future of the Lakers and LeBron, and a little bit about the Angels just to agree that the owner sucks and needs to sell the team.
We did not talk about the Olympics — the best thing in the sports world for sixteen days every four years. Some people just don't watch the Olympics. To them I say: you don't know what you're missing.
I left the Christmas lights up on the back fence this year, for no other reason than because they looked good and I had defied the laws of nature and my own mechanical limitations by putting them on an automatic timer. Leave Christmas lights up on the front of the house and you get a sharply-worded letter from the HOA. Leave them up out back and you don't get anything but a label as someone who is either lazy or eccentric. I am not the first but I'm definitely the second. Most of all, however, I am a romantic.
Shortly after the 1908 London Olympics, gold medalist Johnny Hayes and would-be gold medalist (he collapsed and was disqualified for receiving assistance) Dorando Pietri engaged in a match race to settle the score. Just two men. Racing neck and neck for an entire marathon.
Inside Madison Square Garden.
We were wrapping up the Saturday long run. The creek is high in O'Neill so we couldn't get across. What was meant to be ten miles turned out to be a little less than seven. But I threw in a few hill loops ("slopes") on Twisty and a hard uphill tempo Mesa finish. What we lacked in mileage we made up for in quality. I didn't love it but I was OK with it. The slow build as we approach track season means more emphasis on flexibility to prevent injury. Better to do too little than too much.
Calene had a CT scan on Thursday. You know your world is surreal when CT scans and PET scans are business as usual. I have become a waiting room connoisseur, knowing which have the best chairs and plugs for my laptop. We were running a little late so I dropped Calene off and went to park. By the time I got to the imaging center they'd already taken her back. I sat down and began to write. It was just me and some other guy across the room who was speaking loudly into his phone, using a foreign language I did not understand. I have been blessed with the ability to write anywhere, shutting out distractions as if they didn't exist. I credit being a detached introvert for this skill set.
