I'm a procrastinator who writes books with such total focus that the rest of my life goes on hold. It's like being a double procrastinator. So now that Taking Midway's first draft is with the publisher and I am paddling back to shore, there are a few odds and ends that need attending....
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.
"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
My two weeks of solitude are over. Arrived back from Mammoth High Altitude Training Camp (I used to call it a "high altitude leadership seminar" for those kids looking for something high-falutin to put on their college resume) Saturday. Door to door from the condo to our front door in just under five hours.
Made it to Mammoth. The sky is clear and blue. Temperature borderline between wearing a sweatshirt for the hike I'll take when this is written, or just going in shirtsleeves. A few too many people for my taste, but this is peak season. I just need to abide.
I took a little detour on my way here. The plan was to leave Tuesday, board the dogs, then spend a few relaxing days writing in Mammoth while waiting for the team. Calene's in South Dakota so my time is my own.
Sunday morning on the back porch. Dogs at my feet. Looking out across the arroyo to the conical hill with the satellite towers on the northern edge. Yogurt with blueberries. A press of coffee. Yellow legal pad with a to-do list for the week ahead.
I ask you: is this the behavior of a man whose wife is out of town for ten days?
My stopwatch died the other day. Ultrak 495. Matte black. Capable of recording 100 lap splits. I've been using an Ultrak for about fifteen years. To my mind, the best stopwatch on the market….t is a comforting talisman, my fingers clicking start-stop-reset without my conscious mind noting. It is my grown-up version of Linus's blanket, a security totem that soothes in ways I am not prepared to publicly examine. On race day, when staring at a final result, the watch gives me a small endorphin rush.
