I'm coming to the end of the running book. Two chapters to go. Maybe three. They seem to sprout organically. Maybe about 10,000 words, max. Weird things happen so close to the finish line. Sentences and words from a few hundred pages appear to me in the night, demanding I add a sharp fact or witty clarification. I pull out the Notes app on my phone and write them down then go back to sleep. But mostly I want to slow the pace and enjoy the last days of this project.
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.
Woke up this morning feeling very good about The Long Run. Last Saturday I had lunch with a good friend who was a mover and shaker in the running business. He pointed me down a new line of inquiry for the book — one so novel and out of nowhere that I couldn't wait to weave it into the text. At last, after months laboring to separate fact from legend, a clear path forward.
I just finished Chapter Eight of the new book on Friday. Printed it out then headed to Board & Brew after practice to edit. Just me, the pages, and a pencil. Sitting in a crowded place and losing myself in the words is easy, having spent the early years of my career writing at the kitchen table when the boys were newborns.
