Hello, dear readers. Many of you don't get my monthly newsletter, which is written to be light and motivating, as well as a blatant push for you to buy my books. As I sat down to write this week's newsletter I was in more of a dark and stormy mood (it's been a thing lately — I'm working through it). So this is the outtake. It's a little more heartfelt, with an edge not found in the normal newsletter (subscribe here). But this stuff is on my mind right now.
What I'm Waiting For
A leader. A uniter. A healer. A thinker. A diplomat. A selfless patriot.
What I'm Listening To
None of the above, from either side of the aisle. Pulling for the Truman-Eisenhower ticket in 2020. Or Eisenhower-Truman.
What I'm Torn About
Nike. I literally have been wearing Nike since they introduced their first shoes in America back in the mid-70s, so my loyalty to the company and product is real. I switched my shoe choice to ASICS about twenty years ago (then on to Hoka, but I don't like the way their midsole breaks down, so I'm happy to be back with the ASICS Gel-Kayano), but I still love their apparel and have been an unabashed fan of their financial support for track and field. They lost me a little this Fourth of July when they allowed Colin Kaepernick to state that a shoe based on the American flag was racist — then pulled the shoe from stores, which reeks of kowtowing. And I flinched again when Alberto Salazar's dependence on performance-enhancing drugs for his athletes led to a four-year ban. But after hearing Mary Cain's powerful comments about the abuse she suffered while a Nike athlete (and Nike's reluctance to renew contracts of pregnant female athletes), I think it's time to take a hiatus from the swoosh. Not that my little one-man boycott is going to change anything one iota, but it just feels good. Still the question remains: what do with all the Nike apparel I've got hanging in my closet?
What I'm Really Listening To
Went to see The Who at the Hollywood Bowl recently. Liam Gallagher, formerly of Oasis, opened. I have never knowingly listened to an Oasis song in my life, but I liked his set well-enough to download the album even as Gallagher sang. A little sonic fuzz, some Beatle-esque pop harmonies, catchy lyrics — the kind that get stuck in your head and make you hum along. Been playing it loud.
Morning Routine (Part I)
Studies show that a morning routine is vital to well-being and success. Basically, the process of taking control of the day empowers us and helps us dream. That's pretty cool. I have one for mornings when my team has cross country practice and mornings they don't. Non-practice mornings: up by 7 a.m.; make coffee, feed Django, read the LA Times, write down my goals for the day, catch up with Calene; in my office by 8 a.m. Practice mornings: Up at 5:30; drag a comb through my hair; drive to the school while watching the sun rise; coffee at Starbucks; home by 8. The point is that I don't do the same thing each morning, which means I don't really have a routine. But I have to say that the mornings I watch the sunrise as my teams warm up for a 6 a.m. workout is very special to me.
Morning Routine (Part II)
I'm halfway through the final (for now) book of the Killing series. The books are better than ever, and book #10 is right up there with the best (I think the Killing book due to be released in April is easily the best of the bunch). But as I sit at my desk each morning, door closed, no sound except fingers clacking on the laptop, usually barefoot and wearing sweats, I already feel a nostalgia for these freewheeling history books. Not too many authors get the chance to put 18 million books out into the world.
What's Next
Secret destinations. There are five more weeks in cross country, five more weeks in the writing class I'm teaching at Chapman University, and five more weeks left in the new Killing book. I'm having an absolute blast with all three, really living in the moment and working to be my best with all of them (a lot of mental compartmentalization there). But when they are done I will take Callie to a secret destination for a week, where I will do very little except short runs, long walks, and read. A lot of reflection happens in weeks like that.
And Finally...
That clip of Alex Trebek choking up during Final Jeopardy broke my heart. Truly, we all love you, Alex. Get well soon.