What is Pac-Man’s best stroke anyway?

Not sure how, really, but today I swam 3,200 yards.

The why has become easier. I remember, a year or two ago, topping out on a little ridge on my bicycle. The view was great, just a ribbon of road and one little white house and a sea of pine trees below me. There was something happy and peaceful in that view. Riding, I realized, was one of those things that I was fortunate to be able to do because I wanted to do it. And ever since, even when I take time off the bike, I’ve thought of myself as a rider.

I don’t think of myself as a swimmer, but it is something I can do just because I want to. I’m learning to take the chances you get, even if you think your arms will fall off, to do the things that are yours.

The thing about autumn is that you can’t share it. Is it the signature season where you’re reading this? Does it last for three days, as it seems to here? Whatever you have, you just have to be in it. No photograph really captures the air and the smell and the promise and the sometimes crest-sliding feelings that come with it. But we try:

fall

I walked under that tree on campus. And I pulled out my phone and thought, for about the 14th year in a row, that this isn’t even a snapshot of a season or a glimpse of a feeling. And I sighed at the shortcomings of cameras and smiled at the moment and pressed the button.

After my swim I saw this car while seeking out dinner:

fall

I stood there for a while, trying to decide what kind of person the owner must be. I decided they were pretty nerdy cool. You have to have a sense of humor about you. But they also have to be OK with never clearing the board. The thing about a painted Pac-Man is that you’re never clearing the board. But if you wanted to go classic video game, it is also a bit on the nose. Donkey Kong wouldn’t have made sense. Galaga plays the wrong direction. Centipede would have looked tacky. No one remembers Qbert, probably. Frogger, now that would have been bold.

Update: Today didn’t end until tomorrow. We were still in the newsroom at 3:20 a.m. on the 19th. Never let anyone tell you journalism students don’t work hard. It takes a lot to be that dedicated. And it takes a lot out of them to get it there. They must do it for a reason.

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