Well, it's like this. I killed off Facebook and Twitter because of their political implications. I'm wrestling with Instagram, but I don't know how I could rationalize it. I have a blog that has been overtaken by a guy from Estonia. And yet, I need to write. Always, I need to write.
So here I am.
I have entered the third act of life. I'm still working, but out of a small sweatshop being run out of our spare bedroom, so I never have to wear pants, which is a bit distressing for Mr. Pants. I'm growing a Letterman beard and forcing the cat to stay awake for a second hour of the day. But basically I never leave the apartment these days, except to bask in the glory of the SCC track. So that's what I've been doing. I got in an even 20 miles this week, which is the distance I always tell my oncologist I'm running, except now I wouldn't be lying. Except I have no oncologist visits scheduled in the near future, forcing him to bill someone else so he can afford his exotic mountain bike equipment.
Mo has grown suspicious of my track obsession. I just walk, after all. What difference does it make? I don't know. It's just the feeling of the place. Some people love trails, some roads. Me? I'm at home in Lane 9. We've been talking about moving to Flagstaff. Does she pitch the mountains, the trails, the leftist vibe? No. "You know they have a really great track," she says. Mo is wise.
It's been 150 degrees or so here lately, so mostly I have the place to myself. But today there were football guys and burrowing owls. There's been a long snapper working out here forever. He takes a big trash can, counts off 8 yards or so, and smashes a football into it over and over and over and over and over. I have thought a lot about how it would be more efficient to have a second guy. Yes, that's what I think about when I think about running, Mr. Murakami.
Today, HE HAD A SECOND GUY! They took turns, one snapping to the other, then turning around, then going the other way, then back again, until they both pass out. This seems terribly boring to me, but then I'm walking in circles at a 14:50 pace. So ...
The OTHER thing that drives me nuts is wondering who these people are. This track has everyone from Olympic gold medalists to ummm, me, so I'm always curious, but too shy to ask. AND THEN! The second guy today had his backpack on the bench, which gave just enough info for an intrepid journalist to uncover. He's the starting long snapper for the University of Utah. Sophomore, apparently quite good. Now if I can find out who the wide receiver with the white gloves is, I can sleep tonight. Or maybe hard apple cider. Yeah, that second one.
Being a recluse makes the daily outing a huge deal. I'm pretty excited about the future. Miles is miles, yeah? I hope to get up to a decent weekly mileage and hope my body gives in and starts to speed up a bit. If not, that's OK. It's good to be alive on a sunny day.
And so I will write inaccurate headlines, go out for a daily jaunt, and file here on a daily basis. Yes, you can ignore me. I just need a place to write without fear of Estonian retribution. It's what the late Dave Schultz would have wanted.
It's good to get back on track ...