THE BARGAIN

THE BARGAIN

The chemo ward is open on Labor Day, which is probably a good thing for my cross country teams. I might have said some things I regretted, were I with them at this morning's practice. Instead, I'm here with Callie while they go through an early morning workout on our league course. It's going to be hot today so it's important to get it done early. That, and the fact that Central Park in Huntington Beach will soon be overrun by all manner of picnickers, including a volleyball league fond of setting up their nets right in the middle of our course.

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A KEEPER

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A KEEPER

I got on the subject of coaches wives with my good friend Sean Zeitler this morning. Coaching is such an all-consuming passion that not only do we spend countless hours obsessing about the athletic performances of other people's children, we bring it home. It becomes dinner table conversation, morning coffee conversation, and one of those narratives that always lingers in our subconscious waiting to launch into a discussion.

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BIG WEEK

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BIG WEEK

Taking Midway comes out tomorrow. I almost forgot. I mean, not really. I get paid on publication, which makes it worth remembering. It's getting great reviews. Also nice. But almost a year has passed since I finished. That's the nature of this game. You write a book. Make it the best you can. Then wait and wait and wait until it goes into stores.

That's not why May 20 crept up on me…

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THE IN-BETWEEN

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THE IN-BETWEEN

This week is Trinity League finals for track and field. Frosh-soph and JV race Tuesday. Varsity on Friday. I may have been enormously busy over the last four months, or maybe just distracted, but the end of the season is coming way too fast. May will bring the section and championship races but the majority of my runners will be done by Friday.

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TAKE YOUR MEDICINE MONDAY

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TAKE YOUR MEDICINE MONDAY

Somewhere in a New York City recording studio, a team of professionals is recording the audio version of Taking Midway. I receive periodic updates, mostly about pronunciations, though I'm on the other side of the country. I'm spending the morning doom scrolling in the chemo ward, wondering if I should wander over to the cafeteria for a bold cup of coffee or just drink the ordinary stuff from the machine. The wifi isn't so good, so I use my phone as a hotspot. In typing that last sentence I learned that hot and spot make one word instead of two.

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THE ESCAPIST

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THE ESCAPIST

In light of the shit show in the Oval Office the other day, the historian in me is tempted to write at length about Ronald Reagan rolling over in his grave. But that line is as close as I'll come. Instead, I'm watching Black Labrador reels on Insta, among them a very cute story about a dog who looks very much like my Sadie on her way to Starbucks for a pup cup. Just can't get enough of Black Labs. The algorithm knows this. I get constant Springsteen and Lab reels as I scroll, which lifts my spirits in these uncertain times.

Yes, it's escapist.