Woke up late this morning. Scratchy throat. Feeling rundown but not sick. Just needed an aerobic easy day, in training parlance. I define that to my runners as a pace slow enough to facilitate recovery. The dogs needed to go out and the house was too quiet. So rather than putter around in the silence I reached for the remote. Maybe there were some good sports on TV.
Then I remembered: today is the London Marathon AND the Liegie-Bastogne-Liege bike race….
Another beautiful spring morning. Writing on the back deck, vases of sunflowers to my left and right. I am drifting, unmoored. Grief comes in waves accompanied by audible unplanned sighs. I should do something today. Maybe just go for a walk in the woods. I normally knock out this blog in 30 minutes or so. I've been sitting here now for a couple hours.
I'm settling into this solitude thing. The trick is not to be alone. Not all the time. I've seen three Springsteen shows in the last ten days. Coached practice every day. Headed over to the local with a book just to be around noise. I'm recording podcasts about The Long Run — no need to tell all of you that it comes out this Tuesday. Pretty sure I've stated that one too many times in this space. I also recorded a great interview with NPR's Morning Edition yesterday. Day Two of the Arcadia Invitational track meet is going on as I write, though I won't be attending. I didn't go last night either. When it's a choice between driving two hours each way in traffic and then fighting for a parking spot or watching a live stream before a roaring fire, I will take the computer every time. I know this breaks the thing I said about not being alone but I've only got so much emotional bandwidth. Getting back from Springsteen at midnight twice this week put me in no mood to make yet another drive to LA.
If you are in Orange County (California) in a couple weeks, know that I have a signing at the Aliso Viejo Barnes & Noble on April 25 at 1 pm. Give a little talk, sign a few books, pop to the brewery around the corner for a small after party. It's in between Boston Marathon week and Orange County Marathon week, so running will be in the air. It's also the start of track and field's postseason, meaning no lack of running/runners/strategy discussion.
A lot happening between now and then.
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.
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.
