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THE ESCAPIST

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THE ESCAPIST

In light of the shit show in the Oval Office the other day, the historian in me is tempted to write at length about Ronald Reagan rolling over in his grave. But that line is as close as I'll come. Instead, I'm watching Black Labrador reels on Insta, among them a very cute story about a dog who looks very much like my Sadie on her way to Starbucks for a pup cup. Just can't get enough of Black Labs. The algorithm knows this. I get constant Springsteen and Lab reels as I scroll, which lifts my spirits in these uncertain times.

Yes, it's escapist.

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RETIREMENT

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RETIREMENT

Track season started yesterday. The weather was glorious, the sort of sunshine-y, not-too-hot-not-cold day that reminded me why I love living in Southern California. Mother Saddleback loomed in the distant background as runners circled the track in their new singlets and shorts. The race announcer backed out at the last minute so I was on the mic. This put me in the position of amiable commentator, calling out each race and its contestants while also turning off the sound so I could coach my runners as they passed. Tacos and Co. sold burritos for lunch, which meant that I bought mine at 10:15 to beat the rush. Carnitas with spicy red sauce.

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THE HANGOVER

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THE HANGOVER

Cross country season is over. Twenty-four weeks of training and racing came to an end yesterday at the California State Meet. My girls team took third place in our division and made the podium. It was a hard-fought conclusion to the double days, Saturday long runs, summer camp, and those many days in between that make for the consistency needed to become a champion.

The girls were ecstatic. I felt the glow of a top finish and did a little jig. Made it home from Fresno and downloaded to Calene about the great weekend until I was talked out. She listened patiently, then resumed watching SVU. My queen loves her murder mysteries.

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THANKSGIVING

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THANKSGIVING

My Thanksgiving week began Saturday at precisely 9:24 in the morning. I was standing atop Reservoir Hill at Mt, San Antonio College cross country course. My girls team was racing for their Southern California division title. The fifth and final scoring runner crossed the finish line at 32 seconds past the minute.

Reservoir is a lofty viewpoint, allowing coaches to not only cheer for their runners as they make their climb to the summit, but also follow their progress back down the hill into the stadium for the finish. I was frantically refreshing the Finished Results app to get a final score….

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SANTA ANAS

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SANTA ANAS

Our town backs up to the local mountains. Some cities have houses facing the sea. We have Mother Saddleback staring at our backyards. Fire ravaged the steep areas on the very edges of Rancho Santa Margarita a few months ago, burning all the way to the summit and up the slopes of the valley on the other side for miles. Last Wednesday Santa Ana winds roared through the pass connecting our town with cities on the other side of Saddleback.

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SIMPLE PLEASURES

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SIMPLE PLEASURES

I don't really put a lot of preparation into this space. I like to riff. But yesterday morning I had one of those breakthrough awarenesses that seems tailor-made for blogging. It is this: one of life's great pleasures is being the first to break the toilet paper seal in a newly cleaned porta-pottie on race day. So righteous. So pure. Then to step out into the first moments of a pale morning sunrise and see runners arriving to compete. Washing my hands at one of those portable outdoor soap dispensaries, then wandering off in search of a food truck for a breakfast burrito.

I mean, does it get any better than that?

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PEAKING

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PEAKING

I'm gambling on the October Surprise.

Every cross country season has two parts: regular season (first nine weeks) and postseason (final three weeks, leading to the State Championship). I've had a pretty good run these past twenty years, making the postseason almost every time with both the boys and girls squads. I love being in Fresno the Saturday after Thanksgiving. The atmosphere is electric, the racing is intense, and I get to see all my coaching buddies. Standing atop the podium is also pretty excellent.

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ORION

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ORION

Up at 4:40 this morning. Cross country practice scheduled for 6 in Huntington Beach, a solid 30 minute drive, so I needed the early start. Sadie wanted to go out, so I let her into the backyard and looked up into the southern sky, searching for an old friend.

There he was. Orion and his belt is missing during summer but reappears in the early morning just in time for cross country season. I'll track its march across the sky into late-November and the end of the season, the warrior constellation a timeless reminder that this is autumn.