Wow, this thing is still here. Who would've guessed stuff on the Internet has staying power? Sometimes I wondered if there was an eviction process, where if your blog stayed inactive long enough someone would come by with papers to sign and a truck to move your stuff out; I saw more evictions in the year at the prison block in Davenport, Iowa, then I ever had and learned way more about the process than any college-educated human should know.
So where to start? How do I catch up the six of you of on three months' worth of stuff when I've been good about updating my Facebook and Twitter feeds?
A week after the last entry, I headed out for a little three-day weekend to Georgia, where I watched two nieces and one nephew compete in the state cross country meet. I knew those kids had some ability but to have Lauren, Alex, and Ryan (Samantha, 11, is a couple years away from being there herself) running in the same meet was just amazing. Even my sister Diana (Lauren and Ryan's mom) said she thought it was nuts to think Starr's Mill would make it to state, and that Lauren and Ryan would run on the same day as Alex.
While pricing plane tickets, it crossed my mind that Lauren's a junior and Alex and Ryan are freshmen, so I have another year to see them all run at state. No, it doesn't always work that way. Funny things happen in sport, and I won't get into those things here. I've seen them happen. So thanks to 40,000 United miles left over from my days as a college basketball beat writer I got to see this:
Long story short, Alex got third, and Ryan and Lauren ran well. I'm trying not to be too proud and uncle because there's more to all these kids than their athletic accomplishments, but watching them all run in the state meet was an unmatched thrill. Ryan said he started out too fast, but acknowledged he was a little fired up for his first state meet, and that happens. Now he's a Prefontaine-quoting, bona fide high school runner with three years left to chase the dream.
Lauren observed "there are 112 other people in the state faster than me, and one of them is my cousin. Pretty cool." Even cooler is that Lauren, within the last year, had intoned that she hated running. Now she's giving up lacrosse to go out for track, and gave up swimming to run through the winter. No one saw that coming.
Alex attacked a hill with less than a mile left to move into third, wearing a scowl I haven't seen before; well, there was her early childhood where, upon her mom's request that she "give me a LOOK," she'd furrow her brow and purse her lips and wrinkle her nose and put her hands on her hips, and that way only 3- and 4-year-old girls can do. No, this time was serious. Later that same night she played trumpet with her high school marching band. Awesome.
After that, I went back to discover that my magazine was financially insolvent and the UW foundation hadn't delivered the funds they'd promised (they did, in fucking January). Then there was Thanksgiving, where I brought record cold to the Atlanta area. Then at Christmas, I brought record cold and snow to the Atlanta area. Even that place looks good with snow on the ground, trees, and rooftops.
In the meantime, I've been struggling at work, but not with training consistency. There hasn't been much keeping me from doing something every day — swimming three times a week, biking and running twice each. Tucson and its resultant sunshine beckons next week for my bike and I. My friend Gail, a triathlon coach, retail person, and camp counselor with TriSports, offered up a futon and spare room for a winter-weary soul and I took her up on it. Even offered to take on some of her brutal workouts, so I'll probably need a nap when I get home. The guillotine of California half-Ironman looms on April 2, but it has kept me training through the typically brutal Wyoming winter.
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