Track season came to an end yesterday. I followed up my final high school track meet of the season by driving to UCLA and watching a professional meet with my friends from the USA Track and Field Foundation. I even got to hand Parker Valby her big fake check when she won the women's 5,000. That's what she called it. I liked that.
The shower in our Mammoth condo has the coldest water. Comes right off the mountain as snowmelt and blasts out of the faucet like a river of ice. A solid minute of that, followed by a quick turn to the right and instant hot water makes for an invigorating way to start the day.
That's not the only reason I'm driving to Mammoth tonight. The Southern Section track and field finals will go until 5:30 and then it's four hours up the mountain. I need to get away for a few days, go someplace where I can think and pray. Get the perspective that only distance can provide. This past week was just plain rough and I need to escape.
I'm going to church today. Haven't been in months, even before Calene passed. I don't really know why I'm going, to tell the truth. The worship music goes on too long, the message will be solid but my mind will drift, and it's a solid twenty-minute drive each way. Gas costing what it is these days, the trip almost seems like a luxury. But I will be around people and my thoughts will focus as I daydream, hopefully answering the questions troubling me this week. Perhaps I will run into someone I know and we will exchange hugs. That will make the journey worth it. In this world of fist bumps and high fives, sometimes the best thing is a solid heartfelt hug.
I am literally living under a cloud right now. It rained last night and the marine layer still presses down on Orange County. It looks like it will burn off soon enough. The sun will shine and I will head on over to the local to sip a couple IPA's and read a book. I won't really talk to anyone but I like being around the noise. We had our track banquet yesterday and I got several gift cards to Board & Brew as a coach's gift. No time like the present to put them to work.
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.
