Lessons of the Falls.

Yesterday, I met some super nice people with Trailhead Running at Pedernales Falls State Park, which is only about 20 minutes from my house in Dripping Springs. I’m pretty certain I’ve been there before, back in college sometime, but it was the first thing on my list towards rediscovering Austin. I got to do a beautiful 8-mile run with my friend Leary, and I met some really great women. I’d say the morning was a huge success.

Leary is way faster than I am, and he was sweet to run with me the entire time. He pushed me, which is always good, but he also got me thinking. In talking about how he and his wife Susan became active, he said that the smallest decisions can have the biggest impact on our lives. For him, it was a decision to set aside some of his interests to join Susan in her efforts running, biking and doing triathlon. Now, training and being active are a huge part of their lives together.

He’s right, isn’t he? We don’t always know how big an impact a decision will have.

When I took my first job at a law firm in 1996, indexing documents and drilling holes in plastic pipe, I had no idea the people I worked with would still be my work family and some of my best friends in 2013. When I agreed back in 1999 to train for the Austin marathon with my friend Teri, I had no idea that running would become a huge part of my life. When I agreed to do the swim leg of the Danskin triathlon for my friend Molly in 2002, I had no idea that I’d get bit by the triathlon bug and eventually go on to do an Ironman – or four. When I visited Toastmasters in 2007 to support my friend Rey in delivering her tenth speech, I had no idea that Toastmasters would become one of my favorite activities. When I visited Portland for the first time in 2010, I had no idea that I would love that area so much that I’d want to live there eventually. When I agreed to book a trip to Italy and Greece – my first international trip not counting Canada – with a girlfriend I didn’t know very well at the time, I had no idea how much travel would become important to me. Two years ago, when I left a job that clearly wasn’t a good fit, I had no idea that starting my own business and contracting with law firms, rather than being employed, would give me a lifestyle of independence and freedom that allows me to travel, pretty much any time I want to, with no guilt.

The outcomes can be unexpectedly positive. They can also be unexpectedly negative. I don’t want to dwell on the negatives, but I can think of examples in my life when seemingly small decisions had unintended consequences.

How do we know if our decisions will lead to good or bad stuff in our lives? Can we know? I don’t know. I think we just do the best we can. We do what seems right to us at the time and trust that good will follow. We trust that the people who are meant to be a big part of our lives will be there and things that bring us joy will continue to present themselves.

I left my run and my conversation with Leary with a sense of peace that I didn’t have when I arrived that morning. It was nice to run in a beautiful place, in the company of a kind spirit, and be given an opportunity to learn – or perhaps re-learn – that life really is wise and that my part is to just do the best I can every step of the way.IMG_5884

What I’ve Learned From Erin.

Last night, I went to a going away party for a dear friend and training partner. She’s moving to Dallas to work with a consulting firm, a position she earned while getting her MBA from UT. I’m super proud of Erin and incredibly grateful for all the things she’s taught me and challenged me to do during the last few years.

Though we originally met through work, as is often the case with my best of friends, our friendship really developed through training. We started running together when I was doing the RevFit program in the fall of 2010. She is faster than I am, so running with her is always a good challenge for me. But even better than that, by running with her, I’ve gotten to know her unique spirit, and she’s grown my world in a number of ways.

  1. Erin’s really great about listening to gripes and then saying, “So what are you going to do about it?” She won’t let you wallow in anything. She’s incredibly solution-oriented.
  2. When I was struggling with a job change, Erin was great about listening and helping me to take steps towards owning my own business and, even more so, owning my life.
  3. She introduced me to Elizabeth, who also has become a dear friend. Elizabeth cares for me, and helps me to get out and enjoy my city. Erin knew Elizabeth and I would get along, so she introduced us and said, “You two need to be friends.” I love that she did that, and I love that she was right.
  4. Erin took improv for a bit and challenged me to do the same. She knew it wouldn’t be easy for me, and she knew that I would benefit from giving it a try.
  5. Erin invited me to visit her in Barcelona this year. More than that, she found the Barcelona marathon for me, and set it up so that I could swim and spin at her gym while I was there so I wouldn’t feel guilty about taking a vacation in the middle of Ironman training. And if that wasn’t enough, she housed me the entire trip, which made it ridiculously cheap for me.
  6. When I went through hard stuff, Erin listened without judgment and challenged me to move forward, especially when I didn’t want to.
  7. Erin invited me to join her for a Pose clinic, which was something I’d been wanting to do for quite some time. That clinic led me to make some major changes in terms of my running.
  8. Erin recently reintroduced me to the 10 mile loop of Lady Bird Lake, a run I hadn’t done in probably a decade.
  9. Erin has encouraged my writing always. She reads and comments on this blog. She tells me to write and write and write, if that’s what I really want to do.
  10. Erin makes me a better person. She makes me believe that I have potential in all areas of my life, and she encourages me to find the best that’s out there for me. In terms of work, relationships, and how she spends her time, Erin doesn’t settle for acceptable. She wants exceptional, and she encourages me to insist on the same.

I love this girl. I love her friendship. I love her energy. I love her spirit. I’m sad to lose her from Austin, but I don’t doubt she’ll visit and that I will visit her.  I don’t doubt that this friendship will continue to grow.

Safe travels this weekend, dear friend. I’m here if you need anything. Always.


A Whole Night’s Sleep.

Sleep has been escaping me lately. My body doesn’t seem to understand that the hours between 2:00 a.m. and 5:00 a.m. are meant for sleep. Currently, it thinks they are for staring at the back of my eyelids, reading, watching television, doing dishes, and otherwise thinking about the one thing I want most right now. Last night, in my wide-awake state, I noticed that my children were oddly quiet during those hours. I think even they feel compassion for my lack of sleep right now.

So what’s going on? I’m training lots. I’m eating well. I’m not stressing about work. I’m in the comfort of my own space. So what’s the problem?

To answer that question, I started thinking about the last times that I slept especially well. Most recently, I crashed hard the night after running Hood to Coast. I slept so hard that my right eye crusted shut. It was wonderful, but I’m not about to stay up all night and run in an effort to get one good night’s sleep. Before that, I think the last time I slept easily and well was last December on Whidbey Island where I did a Peerspirit writing workshop called “The Self as the Source of the Story.” Each night, I went to bed relatively early, usually before 10, and I woke with ease around 5 in the morning without even needing an alarm. The one morning that I “slept in” was the morning that we had the entire day to write on our own in silence. I think I was a little intimidated to start that effort.

I slept well on Whidbey Island because I was spending day and night doing things that meant everything to me. I went for walks, read, spent days in sessions with women I adore, and wrote. That was it. It was simple on the outside, though I was struggling with and writing about things that were anything but simple for me on the inside. What that tells me is that I don’t need things to be easy, but I do need them to be meaningful.

Right now, I’m trying to fill a void. I’m filling it with good things, like movies, travel and dance lessons, but even good fillers are fillers. And I don’t want my life to be about fillers.

My big boss at a law firm where I sometimes work likes to say that there are three choices every person needs to make: who you love, what you do, and what community you live in. According to him, some people only get one or maybe two of those right, and the people who experience the most satisfaction in life get all three of them right.

A year ago, I thought I had the love piece down. Now, I have an incredible community, and I’m mostly doing work I love. There hasn’t been a time when I had all three at the same time.

I want all three. I can’t control the love piece, and I think the community is, at least in part, something you build with the person you love, so, for me right now, that means focusing on the piece about what I do. That’s part of why I’ve been writing so much. Writing is definitely therapeutic for me, but it’s also what I love most, whether I’m writing in my journal, this blog, an essay, an article, or content for someone else’s business. I enjoy it with my whole heart.

I’m going to continue doing what I enjoy and trust that I eventually will find a person I can love with my whole heart who will love me and who will join me in building a community we can love together with our whole hearts.

I want a whole heart, and I think it feeling far away is what’s keeping me up at night. But I’m hopeful. With each passing day and each passing (sleepless) night, I’m more and more hopeful.

Missing Canada.

Three years ago today, I was preparing to race Ironman Canada for the first time. I was there with my mom, and my dear friends Erin and Rey showed up to help cheer me on. Two years ago today, I was spectating Canada in Penticton while Erin raced. She had gotten excited as a spectator and signed up when she was on site with me the year before.  A year ago today, Erin and I were driving from Penticton to Portland after I had completed my third Ironman. This year, I’m sitting in my office in Austin, Texas. I didn’t go to Canada. The race moved from Penticton to Whistler and rather than go to Whistler this past weekend to volunteer and sign up for next year’s race, I did Hood to Coast. I loved every minute of that event, but my heart did miss Canada in more ways than one.

I’ve spent the last couple of days debating signing up for Canada in 2014. I’m already signed up to race Coeur d’Alene in June of 2014. Canada would be on July 27, just over a month later. (They changed the date this year. Normally, Canada is at the end of August.) I’d already be trained and would just need to maintain my fitness between the two and try to keep healthy.

But then I asked myself why. Why do I want to race Canada next year? I didn’t have a good answer.

Right now, I want to race it because I want so much to go back to the experiences of 2010, 2011, and 2012. They were not easy times, but they were really good times in the company of people I loved. But just wanting to go back? I don’t think that’s reason enough to put my body through two races within one month’s time. So rather than race, I’m considering planning a trip to Victoria, Vancouver, and Whistler to do some sightseeing and to spectate. That way, I can see the course, be on site at the race to sign up for 2015, and see a part of the world that’s been on my list for a while.

I’ve been telling myself that 2013 has been such a year of travel that 2014 needs to be a year of being at home. Other than planning to race St. George and Coeur d’Alene, I was thinking I’d park my happy butt at home and just be. But now I’m thinking differently. It would be an adventure to see that part of British Columbia. I think I’m at a place right now where I want to continue having adventures.

A number of you have told me you didn’t believe I would stay at home next year. Turns out you were right.

Canada in July of 2014, anyone?

Hood to Coast 2013.

This weekend rocked. I had a ridiculous amount of fun doing a nearly 200-mile running relay from Mt. Hood, east of Portland, to the Oregon coast. My team of twelve consisted of Catherine, Lucinda, Jenn, Eily, Paul, Elizabeth, Eric, Jake, Fred, Mike, Jeanne and me. Catherine and I flew out Wednesday night. The rest of the team arrived on Thursday. We raced Friday and Saturday – as in we raced through the night. Then we flew home on Sunday.  This van decor from another team’s van captured the experience:

Hood to Comatose

Hood to Comatose indeed! I’m equal parts exhausted and exhilarated. And I learned so much.

  1. We had six people in each van, and everyone agreed that the vans reeked about mid-way through the 30-hour event. We had changes of clothes, but still, the stench was awful. And it didn’t bother us one bit because we were having so much fun. Turns out even a cramped and smelly car can be wonderful with the right people.
  2. Each member of the team ran three legs of varying distances and levels of difficulty. My first two were around 6 miles long and hilly. My third was four miles long and relatively flat. I ran my first leg early Friday afternoon, my second leg at 11 at night, and my third leg at 8:30 on Saturday morning. I could handle the running and actually did quite well on each leg. The biggest physical challenge for me was the being up all night aspect of the race. When I had moments to sleep, even 15 minutes here and there, I took them. And when we had over an hour to sleep on a high school gym floor, I passed out cold.
  3. After sleeping on the gym floor, we had the option to shower at the high school before heading back out on the road for our third legs. I took the option and paused momentarily when I realized that the showers were not stalls, but community showers – a pole with multiple spouts. I think I can safely say that never in my nearly forty years have I been willing to shower publicly. But in my exhausted and sleep-deprived state, I showered, and it felt damn good to be clean and feel somewhat awake for a bit.
  4. Oregon is beautiful. I’ve spent quite a bit of time there these past few years, but I hadn’t been since last October, and I caught myself in awe of the place once again. The rental house on the lake, the course through the country, and the beach were all incredibly beautiful. I love Portland and Oregon. They hold a very special place in my heart.
  5. I love hard efforts. This was a hard effort. Our team pulled together, powered through the night, and came out laughing and celebrating on the beach. No tension. No drama. Nothing but smiles and laughter the entire way. When we were done, we were celebrating, not just the effort, but our sheer enjoyment of the company along the way, despite the challenges of the event. There’s really nothing better than doing great things with great people.

Though it may take me a few days to recover, I loved this event. I loved the racing. I loved the company. I loved the environment. I would do this race again in a heartbeat. For sure.

Africa Is Happening.

In mid-June, I started thinking about a trip to Africa. Africa had never been on my list of places I wanted to go, but as I thought about turning 40 and doing so alone, I knew I wanted to do something grand for my birthday. I also knew that I did not want to spend New Years at home alone, so I started looking at REI’s website for adventure trips in late December. Almost immediately, I felt drawn to the thought of hiking up the highest mountain in Africa.

So what if it takes forever to travel to Africa and I’ll be travelling alone? So what if the foreignness of Africa scares me? So what if I’ve never been in altitude? So what if I have to get injections or take drugs to keep from getting sick? So what if I’m sleeping in a tent and not showering every day? I can do this. More than that, I need to do this. I need to know that I can put myself in any unfamiliar and potentially uncomfortable situation and, not just survive, but enjoy it.

Someone recently told me that I’m not capable of change, and I cannot let that be true.

It’s true that I’ve lived in the same town for more than twenty years, that I’ve been in one line of work, mostly with one firm, the entire time, and that I’m a person who takes comfort in routine and familiarity. It’s also true that I hold tight to my family and friends. I have friends I’ve had since elementary school, middle school, and high school because I value people. Once I love them, I don’t let go easily. I email. I phone. I reach out regularly. If I cause hurt, I ask forgiveness, even when walking away would be easier. If I am hurt, I offer forgiveness where I think forgiveness is genuinely sought. I have a history of dedication and commitment to my work and the people I love. I think all of that is good and that to reframe all of that as a condemnation of me as unable to adapt is a mistake.

Then I worry. Is it true that I can’t change? I talked for three or four years about moving out of Austin proper into the country before I actually did it. It took years of thinking about writing before I made any externally visible efforts to actually write for magazines or other people. It takes me months to move myself mentally from the I’m-getting-to-know-you phase into the we’re-dating phase. I’m slow to make decisions, whether the decisions involve a major life change or buying a blender. I consider and debate and coax myself into action, big and little. And sometimes that means long periods of uncertainty and what appears to be inaction to the outside observer. Does my slowness mean I’m not moving towards change or that I’m incapable of it? I don’t think so.

So this Africa thing is about climbing Kilimanjaro about as much as my Ironman thing is about earning the M-dot status. It’s really about my life, who I want to be, and what I need to know is true about me.

I bought my plane ticket today. It took me almost two months, but I did it. I’m in. The plans are made, and the money is spent. I’m going to Africa.

The Way, Way Back.

I haven’t written since coming home from England and Germany where I spent time with my extended family, some of whom I’d never met. I’ve had a lot rolling around in my mind about the trip. How much I loved the travel itself. How much I enjoyed being in the homes of my aunts and uncles who cared for me just as they would their own kids. How strange it was to be around so many people who look so much like me. How much I loved learning about my mom and dad from people who’ve known them much longer than I have. It was an incredible trip.

What surprised me on this trip was that I felt alone at times even though I was surrounded by people I love and who love me. I realized that, for me, companionship isn’t just about being loved. It’s about being known too. Over time, I know that I will develop relationships with my extended family where I know them and am known by them. The trip gave me that certainty, and I’m so grateful for what I know will happen between and among us. But the experience with my family – spending day and night with dozens of people who would do anything for me but still feeling lonely – hit home for me how much I need to be known in order to feel genuinely loved.

That’s a hard thing. It’s hard for me to allow myself to be known. It seems weird to type those words on something I’m going to post publicly, but the reality is that the self that comes through on this blog is as artificial as the image I create for myself on Facebook. It’s not a complete picture of who I am or what’s happening in my life. You see the bits and pieces that I choose for you to see.

A truth about me is that I’m slow to enter relationships where I allow myself to be known. I’m slow because I’m fearful that people won’t like what they see or that they’ll take all the things I don’t like about myself and wrap them up and give them back to me as all the reasons why they don’t, won’t or can’t care for me. I have reason to be fearful. That’s happened a few times in my life in friendships and relationships. With each experience, I have wondered if I can be brave enough to try again.

But I think I found a little courage today. I saw a movie called The Way, Way Back. It’s a beautiful story about the power of one person’s belief in another.  I laughed and cried and responded, almost physically, to what was happening on the screen. And I realized that there is nothing more beautiful than two people bringing out the very best in one another by loving one another as they are. They didn’t enter the relationship trying to change one another. They just loved and believed, and through that love and unwavering encouragement, the changes happened.

I’ve been isolating myself a bit. I’ve been trying to change all the things about myself that I don’t love. Generally, that’s a good thing. It’s good for me to lose weight and work on my speed and take dance lessons and be more adventurous in travel and put myself in environments where I don’t know people and where I have to adapt myself to an uncomfortable situation. Those are all good things. But I’m wrong to think that I need to fix myself before I can let another person see who I am. If I’m trying to prepare and present a “better” version of myself to the next person, then I’m going to feel lonely because they won’t know me as I really am. But if I am willing to step out and love and be loved as I am and make those and other changes with the help of someone who wants to love me through them, then I can become a better or even best version of myself and be known. I want those two things for myself, and I want to offer those two things to someone else. Obviously, I can’t do that in isolation.

I am good – really good – at believing in other people and offering them unwavering love and encouragement. I think I’m ready to look for someone who will offer the same to me. That doesn’t mean I’m going to stop the efforts I’ve been making in this period of isolation. I like what I’ve been doing. I’m back in the 120s in terms of weight. I am running and biking faster than I ever have as an adult. I’ve learned how to two-step and swing. I’m going to Africa of all places later this year. These are all good changes that I’ve made. But I’m ready to step out of isolation, even though stepping out is a bit scary.

I will proceed cautiously, trusting my own reservations if I have them.  But I want in my life the beauty that I saw on the screen. I believe in it. And if I tell you that I don’t believe in it, know that I’m lying to you out of my own fears. Because I do.

Traveling Again.

I realized last year that this would be a year of travel, but it has involved and continues to involve much more travel than I originally planned.

So far this year, I’ve been to Barcelona, St. George and Coeur d’Alene. This week I leave for my England/Germany family reunion trip. The week after I get back, I’m heading to Minneapolis and Ames, Iowa, to catch up with some friends from my childhood and a friend from my Whidbey Island writing workshop. A few weeks later, I’m heading to Portland to run Hood to Coast with some friends. In early September, I’m heading to Colorado for some hiking in altitude and to Connecticut to catch up with my high school doubles partner and hopefully one of my favorite former lawyer friends who moved up there with her husband a number of years ago. In October, I’ll head back to Portland for a marathon and possibly time with another Whidbey Island friend.  In December, I’m heading to Hawaii for another marathon. Then at the end of the year, I’m heading to Africa to ring in the new year climbing Kilimanjaro. And somewhere in there, I’d like to hit the San Francisco Bay Area to see my cousin who just moved there from Boston, and I’d love to make it to New York to see my high school roommate, though I don’t have those plans just yet.

That’s a lot of travel for me. I’ve made a point of trying to do fun and adventurous things to celebrate my fortieth year. I have to say that I’ve done a damn good job of it so far. Next year, I’ll sit my happy butt at home a bit more, but I’m loving the journeys this year has brought.

I’m particularly excited about connecting with family in England and Germany. I’m going to spend time with uncles, aunts, and lots of cousins, many of whom I’ve never met. Will they like me? Will we feel a connection? Will we communicate more going forward after a bit of time together? I don’t know, but I’m excited to find out.

It’s a short trip – just over a week long. When I made the plans, I was trying to be back for a weekend commitment I was expecting to have. Those plans fell through, so I’m coming back early unnecessarily. But still, it’ll be good to spend time in two countries I’ve never seen and to get to know family from all over the world. I’m even looking forward to good reading time on the plane.

I’ve decided against taking a computer, so I will be disconnected a bit.  But when I get back, I hope to report on good books read, many solid runs overseas, and precious time with family that I will not soon forget.

Post-Race Activity.

How do you spend the first weekend after an Ironman event? With no eight-hour bike ride on the schedule and no need to be home particularly early on Friday night, I made a point of having some fun.

Last night, Erin, Jeanie and I went back to trapeze. The idea was that we would do a release move – that we would do exactly what we did last time but that we’d be caught in the air by another person. The thought of that terrified me, but I agreed to try. When we Trapezearrived at the new location, we saw that the trapeze was set up outdoors rather than indoors under a tent like last time. We also had a different group of instructors and six other people who were there as part of our class. They walked us over to the low hanging bar to practice our moves before heading up to the apparatus, and I froze. I could not for the life of me convince myself to get back up there, so I didn’t. I sat in the bleachers and took photos and videos of Jeanie and Erin while they and others performed. That felt right to me. I felt calm as soon as I made that decision, and since I’m trying to trust myself these days, I went with that feeling of calm. But Jeanie and Erin did the new moves and did beautifully. I’m so proud of these girls and in awe of their bravery and ability. As for me, maybe next time I’ll give it another try.


Then this morning, Jeanie and I met on Lady Bird Lake to walk. Yes, walk. I had my coffee and camera in hand, and we walked and talked and toured the newish boat house and took pictures and had a wonderful morning. Then we went to Austin Java for breakfast and more conversation. I love running and working hard, but I also love just being. This morning was exactly what I needed, and it was a treat to spend that time with my friend. Thank you, Jeanie, for spending the morning with me.

After my morning with Jeanie, I came to the office. I’m working a bit and then hope to catch up with another friend or two this weekend. Tomorrow I’ll gather with my Ironman crew for a post-race celebration poolside. All of this is good stuff for a first post-race weekend.

But I’m not just thinking about the weekend. I’m looking ahead now. That’s something I haven’t really done or wanted to do in a while, but I’m finally ready to think about what’s to come and how to make the most of it all.

I’ve mentioned before that I turn 40 this year. I’ve been thinking a lot about how to mark the occasion. My original plan had been a trip to Vienna, but I’ve decided to put that off for a bit. Instead, I’m going to climb Kilimanjaro. I’ve never been to Africa, and I’ve honestly never even had a desire to go to Africa. But I do love challenges, and I’m all for having new experiences and listening to my heart. Almost out of nowhere, my heart is telling me to go to Africa, so that’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to spend my new years on the mountain, and after the climb, I’ll do a brief safari before returning home.

To say that I’m excited doesn’t adequately capture what I’m feeling. For the first time in months, I sit in joyful anticipation of the time ahead and the experiences it will bring. That, my friends, is a lovely place to be.

The Before Trilogy Day.

I’m going to veer off the training track for a moment to brag about my day. Then I’ll return to it to brag about my day’s workout. Can you tell I’m in a good mood?

I spent the bulk of today at the Marchesa Hall & Theater watching Before Sunrise, Before Sunset, and Before Midnight, which are directed by Richard Linklater and star Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy. The third in the trilogy opens this Friday, so if you haven’t seen it yet, no problem. Just rush to the nearest theater on Friday. But if you haven’t seen the first two movies, what’s wrong with you? Go watch them now.

I use Before Sunrise and Before Sunset as a test. Do you hate those movies? Then I’m afraid we can’t be friends. Do you not love those movies? Then I’m afraid we can’t date. Sorry. I have my standards, and I believe that anyone who doesn’t love them lacks a certain sense of romanticism that I want in a partner and anyone who hates them is lacking a sense of humanity that I insist on in a friend.

Before Sunrise is about an American man who meets a French woman on a train in Europe and spends one night wandering the streets of Vienna with her.  (Want to know why I am gifting myself a trip to Vienna for my fortieth birthday? This movie is why.) Before Sunrise picks up nine years later in Paris when the man is on a book tour for a novel he wrote based on the one night in Vienna. Before Midnight enters the scene another nine years later. I saw the movie in March at South by Southwest, and I saw it again tonight. I’d tell you what happens, but I want you to experience the story for yourself. So please, watch the first two and then see the third when it opens on Friday.

I thoroughly enjoyed my Before Trilogy marathon today. The movies are perfect, but the best part of the day, for me, became about people.

First, Richard Linklater and Harry Knowles of Ain’t It Cool News did an incredible hour-long Q&A after the first film. Who has ever heard of an hour-long Q&A? Both men were so engaging that I felt like I was listening in on a private conversation. What a gift that hour was.


Second, I got to see Before Midnight with my dear friend Walter. We met at a movie and developed a friendship that grew largely around movies and music, but mostly movies. One of my favorite Walter memories is that, after a screening of Closer, we sat in my car for so long talking that we drained my car battery. (I think I had turned the key in the ignition just enough to start the heater but not enough to start the car. I thought we’d be sitting for ten or fifteen minutes, but we sat for hours. Oops.) He is also the friend who lovingly challenged me to travel – to take trips that involved being away from Austin for more than five or six nights. I love Walter, and I love his wife and kids. I’m grateful for the time with him and for the opportunity to talk about one of my favorite movies with a dear old friend.

Pretty great, huh? Did I mention that, between the second and third screenings, I did a track workout and ran a 4:11 800, which was 3 seconds faster than last week? I’m loving seeing my progress.

After a day like today, you’d think I’d be exhausted, and I am. But I’m also terribly energized. Today was a gift. There were lots of other things that I could have or even perhaps should have been doing. But I think I spent it perfectly.

Now off I go to sleep and perhaps to dream of love and being super speedy in races.