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Lunchtime on the highway. You know, I spend a lot of time on the interstate, and this one in particular. There are four of these on this road covering the entire north-south span of the state. And it is impressive how often I’m near one of them around lunch or dinner.
I’m not sure who was more excited, the hoomans, the cat or the crab toy.
Tonight, laundry, repacking and, tomorrow, more traveling.
So we’re back at it again. Another late, late night in the newsroom. This was the view when it was still daylight outside. I did make it outside at some point. Some days it is difficult to know for sure, but here is documented evidence:
Sometime I think I should walk around to trees and just start yelling “Quitter!” at them. That wouldn’t be strange. Would that’d be strange? That’d be strange. Right?
A few more photos from the weekend. We ride bikes through here. It looks different at dusk and at different speeds. And it is dark enough and we’re fast enough here and I was maybe just hasty enough that it makes everything look soft and blurry and distant. But look at those colors:
We went to the movies this weekend. We saw Creed, which was emotionally impactful in ways that I wasn’t expecting. And no one saw that happen, either, since The Yankee didn’t glance over at entirely the wrong time or anything. It had nothing to do with an aging Rocky or mortality, but probably had something to do with thinking of Mickey Goldmill. (Did you know there’s a story about Mickey being written? You want this one to make it.)
Walking out of the theater this little girl saw this poster and walked up to it.
“What’s this movie about, Mommy?”
Mom walks over, reaches down for her hand and says “You wouldn’t like it.”
Don’t worry, kid, no one is going to like this one.
This weekend we also learned that Allie likes cupcakes, or at least the paper.
Yesterday I asked where you’d like to be right now? My first thought was my bike. Then I wandered off into some Homer by memory and my contractually obligated Publilius Syrus reference of the month. It was a solid idea and I stand by it.
But also, I have a few other options worth of considering. And this time, no poorly remember Greek
This one’s easy. Who doesn’t love the ocean?
This one is in Oregon, in the woods on the path to the ocean. This is the place I think about when I recall, with fondness, our trip to Oregon. The whole visit was terrific, as my travels usually are, but the views were spectacular. And Oswald West State Park was one of my favorites:
Some people are beach people. Some people prefer the mountains. I like the woods. And if there are woods going to the beach … well, that’s just not something we often have in my part of the world, but that’s two pretty great environments that I’m happy to enjoy. So Oswald West is always a contender in my “Where would you rather be?” contest.
And this one, which is more representative than specific. It is a simple pasture wrapped around a quiet country road in north Alabama. Just a pretty view. I was there on one Saturday, 2006, while The Yankee was teaching a class and I was killing time enjoying a spring morning. Once you look past the ditch, everything from the fence to that big lazy foothill of the Appalachians is worth taking in and visiting often:
So, where would you like to be?
We went to a wedding last night. A dear friend, a sister that should be. We’ve known each other for 12 years and she’s just about the sweetest, nicest, hardest working person you could ever hope to meet. I’d go on and on. She’d hate that. Anyway, Elisabeth and Chris said things in front of people and signed documents and now it is official.
They’re a sweet couple and they had a lovely wedding and a terrific reception.
Everyone just went on and on about it, as they do. And we all enjoyed meeting the people that helped shape the people we were there to celebrate. It was pretty much what these things should be. And delicious food. Also, there were rubber duckies:
Here’s the shirt from yesterday’s race. Awesome design, very yellow.
The race was fast. I was just slow.
We rode our bikes to the race from our nearby hotel. Rode across the state line, actually. And we did that in the dark, with little blinkie lights on our bikes showing the way.
We got there in plenty of time. Nice easy setup. Met race veterans and three people who were doing their first race. It was a nice relaxed pre-race morning, as opposed to the usual stress. This race was launched in age-group waves, so The Yankee went off earlier than I did, scorching people in the water and then burning up tar on the road.
When my group went off we pushed away and swam downstream 500 meters. You climb out of the water at a boat launch, run back upstream and swim it again. So the swim is short, just 1,000 meters, but that jog counts to your swim, which means I had my best 1,500 meter swim time ever. It still wasn’t very good.
Out of the water, finally, and up to transition where I climbed on the bike and settled in deciding that I would ease into the 20-something mile ride. It was a two loop course, roads with which I am familiar, and I figured that maybe I would be better served pacing myself early and going hard on the second time around. On the first loop, though, I felt my legs lock up. And on the second loop my legs said “No. This is what it feels like when your legs lock up.”
And after that nice little ride, where I didn’t get to hammer it much of anywhere, I was back in transition and setting off for a run. THis is the second time, by the way, I’ve run across a state line. (You don’t keep track of this sort of thing?)
The course offered three miles of river views:
And then there were three miles of downtown views. And somewhere right in between everything started going wrong.
You shouldn’t get chills two hours into exercise in the August sun, but I did. It seemed wise to take everything easy after that, and so I did. When I got to the end I wanted a blanket and calories. It was an unsatisfying race for me. But the weather was nice and the people were pleasant. And this one had a great race:
I didn’t see her until a few parts of the run course. She did this thing where she beat her goal and still wasn’t satisfied with herself. (Don’t race her.)
