Sorry the blog's a little late this week. Sunday was a road trip and Monday was an intense writing session. My editor correctly saw the need for three well-placed new chapters for The Long Run. Between morning and afternoon practice I found a sweet groove and wrote those chapters in one sitting. That's a lot.
Mammoth training camp starts one week from today. I normally leave a few days early to check out the trails and get settled. This year I'm leaving on Sunday morning, same as the team. Good friend Jim Poettgen is celebrating a big birthday and I'd like to stick around RSM long enough to wish him well before making the drive to the mountains.
I spent the afternoon cleaning the algae from my backyard fountain. Bought a Shop-Vac for a criminally low price, drained the water, scrubbed the green stuff that has been building since the heat wave began a month ago. Planted two sunflowers in the front raised bed. Their height gives the garden a look more in keeping with the elevated location. Watched Wimbledon yesterday and today. Did a Matt Wilpers ride on Peloton. Walked Sadie. Went to church….
I'm coming to the end of the running book. Two chapters to go. Maybe three. They seem to sprout organically. Maybe about 10,000 words, max. Weird things happen so close to the finish line. Sentences and words from a few hundred pages appear to me in the night, demanding I add a sharp fact or witty clarification. I pull out the Notes app on my phone and write them down then go back to sleep. But mostly I want to slow the pace and enjoy the last days of this project.
I got on the subject of coaches wives with my good friend Sean Zeitler this morning. Coaching is such an all-consuming passion that not only do we spend countless hours obsessing about the athletic performances of other people's children, we bring it home. It becomes dinner table conversation, morning coffee conversation, and one of those narratives that always lingers in our subconscious waiting to launch into a discussion.
Greeting from Copenhagen, home to tall men and beautiful women. Callie and I just ran into my good friend (and four-minute miler) Joe Fabris in the train station. Sheer coincidence. Travel and its adventures sometimes yield random moments of wonder like that. Pretty amazing.
I'm researching and writing my way through Europe….
I was going to write something political for Barack Obama Day but I just don't have the energy. I'm so sick and tired of being fearful. Tired of hearing the word "dystopian." So, with the words of "Long Walk Home" ringing in my ears ("that flag flying over the courthouse means certain things are set in stone; who we are and what we'll do and what we won't"), I think I'll just write about the signing I'm doing this afternoon. Because it gives me great joy, which is very much what I need right now.
I went to Disneyland for my birthday. It's the ultimate place to people watch. Calene and I go now and again just to walk around and enjoy the vibe. Ride the roller coasters. It's best in February on a rainy day when all the kids are in school. But even yesterday's sticky-hot, overcrowded Sunday had its moments.
