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.
Laid my sweetie to rest on Friday. I hear there's war with Iran, gas prices are soaring, and March Madness is in full swing. But I've been in a different place these past three weeks since she passed. She's all I think about. I haven't practiced my guitar or worked on my Duolingo French. I walk. I run. I feed the dogs. Keep the house clean, always using Windex to clean the counters because she thought that was important. I'm not hungry often, which is a first. I'm careful with my alcohol because I don't want to become a cliche — that guy who loses his wife and goes off the deep end.
The Queen is back in her castle. All is right in the world.
Thanks for the warm wishes last week. The community that has sprung forth from this blog is notable for its kindness, for which I am grateful. It's also nice to see some familiar names that followed this space as far back as the Tour de France days still checking in. Say what you will about social media and the internet, but I lucked out with this readership.
Got a new book deal last week. It's equal parts running and history, which is all I can say right now. This is the first time in my career I've combined my two passions. I'm very excited. As I've traveled deeper into my career, I'm happy to be taking on projects that really test my creativity and storytelling. This is one of those books. Frankly, I thought Taking Paris was a challenge. Then Berlin and London. Taking Midway was so over-the-top demanding there were days I would sit here at the writing desk and wonder how in the world I was going to pull all the disparate threads together. I'm really excited to share it with all of you when it hits stores in May.
The lights are hung. Mantel decorated. Tree standing tall next to the piano, covered in ornaments, listing ever so slightly. Alexa playing Christmas music. Today, I'm going to buy a small tree for the courtyard and decorate it with the ceramic C9 lights I picked up at Lowe's. I couldn't believe they still had Christmas lights for sale after Thanksgiving.
We're not doing a card this year. Actually, we stopped sending cards once the boys grew up. I used to write a Christmas letter, believing that because I'm an author my Christmas letters were somehow less annoying than the rest of the world's. I keep them all in a file. Went back to have a look at them not so long ago. They are a snapshot of what was going on in our lives each of those years.
Django blew out his ACL and the vet says the surgery for an old dog is beyond expensive. So he prescribes pain pills and time, saying the joint will calcify. The doggie day care acknowledges his wound by putting a yellow band around his neck to indicate his limp is an injury. Combined with his normal blue collar it looks like he's wearing the flag of Ukraine around his neck. The place is now synonymous for anxiety, unpredictability, and complete What the Fuck.
"Charge system fault." That's what I googled in the waiting room. The warning light had just come on in the Rover. Red and important.... Google told me precisely what would happen next. One by one, my car's electrical functions would shut down. Then it would stop completely. Just a matter of time. Get to a mechanic immediately.
We got a little sideways news from the cancer docs that day. The kind that reminds you that the things you thought were under control have other plans
