I am in Long Lake, Wisconsin at my college friend Dan Brown's hunting camp. The docks have been pulled out for the winter. A thick coat of ice still covers the surface. I flew in after coaching at The Ten Saturday night. One of my girls broke 5:00 for the mile for the first time. Got up at 5 the next morning for the drive to LAX. On the way, I saw a shadowy figure on the darkened tollway and swerved at the last minute. It was an owl, of all things. Enormous. Gray feathers. Flew away just in time. I have a thing for large birds of prey. Hawks, falcons, golden eagles, and owls. I would have been devastated if I had killed it. There's been quite enough death in my life recently.
Dan and I are spending a couple nights here catching up and then driving back into Minneapolis for tomorrow's Springsteen show. I'm also going to the LA show next week with my good friend Todd Coulston. Then maybe the Thursday after with my sister Mary if I can score tickets. The Boss is 77 this year. Got to see him while I can. He and the E Street Band aren't getting any younger.
The Long Run comes out two weeks from tomorrow. I taped a podcast this morning with several more on the calendar in the weeks to come. I've tried to stay active the past few weeks in the hope of dropping a few pounds but grief and diet do not go well together. I've decided to give myself a pass for the next few months, just trying to maintain. My friends and neighbors continue bringing delicious meals to the house. Who am I to ignore this wonderful hospitality?
I am excited about the book and I urge you all to buy several copies as we enter spring marathon season and begin training for a fall marathon. My anchors, however, are my sister-in-law, my sons, my teams, and my dogs. I am loved, which is nice. I can't imagine what life would be like without them. When I ruminated aloud at a recent practice about the difficulty of taking off my wedding ring after 38 years, my girls team looked at me like I was befuddled and wondered why I didn't just keep wearing it.
So I am.
There is a Bergman-esque feel to staring out across an ice-covered lake and the barren forest on the far side beneath a gray spring sky. The quiet is deafening. I am a lucky man to be living such a full life.
And I'm really glad that owl flew away in time.