I usually write the blog on Sunday morning, so this is a departure. Just back from morning practice on the track, under the lights, at 6 am. I always love that moment when the lights flicker on at 5:50, bathing the blue track in illumination, even as everything all around us is pitch black. There's a feeling of purpose, knowing the rest of the world is sleeping while the teams do the hard work that wins championships. Sunrise is anticlimactic, beautiful as it might be. By then, everyone's pushing through their last rep and heading for the showers. Excellent way to start this new week.
LAMBEAU
Flew into Green Bay for the college reunion weekend. Spent the night at the Kohler Lodge, just across the street from Lambeau Field. The view out my window was the iconic Packers' stadium. I spent time in their merch shop, which is as large as a Target. Bought a nice windproof vest that I could wear year-round if I still lived in the midwest. In the morning I ran laps around the stadium in the absence of nearby running trails. Lambeau Loops, I called them on Strava, taking a page from the venerated Lambeau Leap post-touchdown celebration.
PTSD
GET HAPPY
I had my annual physical this week.
That's a loaded way to start the blog. So let me start over:
I broke my reading glasses yesterday. Had them folded into the neck of my t-shirt when I lifted Sadie out of the back seat of the Rover. I read that letting her jump down from the vehicle is bad for her joints and I want to prolong her life and health as much as possible.
BBQ SAUCE
The Astorinos held a BBQ last night. They were kind enough to invite me. We have a great neighborhood but I've been reclusive these past six months. It was nice to catch up.
Calene had a birthday last week, which I made it through without tears. I learned the hard way that paying tribute by kissing the gravestone may be a sentimental and heartfelt gesture, but is a very bad idea when the temperature is 103 degrees and the stone is polished black granite.
WORLD TOUR
I've written before about my morning ritual with the yellow legal pad. It's nothing unusual, me getting my bearings by writing down the events of the day. The same list is already in my phone's calendar app, but if I write it down on paper it seems to stamp the day a little more firmly on my brain. On Sundays I go one better, writing down the entire week to come.
SCARIER
I just finished A Gentleman in Moscow for the third time. I like the ending so much that I immediately reread the last forty pages. I've never read the great Russian writers, so next up is Anna Karenina. It's a big book. I have trouble with big books. Everyone raves about The Count of Monte Cristo but I couldn't get through it. Someday I will go back and start from page one with a different translation, but for now the Count is on my list of failed attempts to read classic books.
It mirrors my own failure to finish writing a novel.
FORCE OF NATURE
Home from Mammoth yesterday. I'm back in the splendor of my backyard, looking over at the mesa on the other side of Trabuco Canyon. The air is warm and smells of late summer. Light morning breeze. A vase of sunflowers to my right. A couple notebooks on the table. All manner of stone paperweights (from the soon to be late, great Stone Brewery) holding the tablecloth in place. a penitent Sadie curled up at my feet.
Penitent? We'll get to that.







