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.
Cross country season is over. Twenty-four weeks of training and racing came to an end yesterday at the California State Meet. My girls team took third place in our division and made the podium. It was a hard-fought conclusion to the double days, Saturday long runs, summer camp, and those many days in between that make for the consistency needed to become a champion.
The girls were ecstatic. I felt the glow of a top finish and did a little jig. Made it home from Fresno and downloaded to Calene about the great weekend until I was talked out. She listened patiently, then resumed watching SVU. My queen loves her murder mysteries.
My two weeks of solitude are over. Arrived back from Mammoth High Altitude Training Camp (I used to call it a "high altitude leadership seminar" for those kids looking for something high-falutin to put on their college resume) Saturday. Door to door from the condo to our front door in just under five hours.
Hey All. I'm back. Took a couple weeks off to do some fun stuff and focus on Taking Midway. Traveled to Las Vegas for a weekend with the neighbors. I'm not a travel-with-the-neighbors kind of guy but Callie and I had a blast. Last week was the Olympic Trials in Eugene. Also a wonderful time with my brethren at the USA Track and Field Foundation.
It's raining.
The good kind of raining where I make a fire, move my laptop to a table by the dining room window so I can watch the storm, and bundle up in cozy clothing. I went to bed adamant that my distance runners would have morning practice, rain or shine. But when I got up at five and saw the dark and wet, that felt a little obsessive. We can make up the miles some other time. I sent out a text canceling the workout and got back into bed, pulled up the comforter, and slept until eight.
Saturday night at the Great Park. America's biggest cross country meet raced under the lights. Arrived at 1 pm and stayed until almost midnight. Usually, the Woodbridge Invitational competes late to avoid mid-September heat. This year, the weather was cool and damp enough that I put on a sweatshirt at 3 and kept it on until the bitter end. As those who know me will attest, I will find any excuse to wear a sweatshirt.
