Here I go again. Rambling about stuff in general because I have no Roundrock nooz for you.
On Friday I will observe my eighth anniversary with my current employer. My current longevity record is 11 years, and perhaps I’ll surpass it with this job. Or not. Work is insane. At least being a wage slave in a cube farm for an international company where change is the only constant is insane. But it pays the bills, and I can mostly leave it behind at the end of the day, so, whatever.
Monday runs are my speed work runs. I get out on the (nicely paved) trail and just run as fast as I can for as long as I can (generally about a half mile). And then I stop and gasp and question my devotion to this new mania of mine. And then I go again. On Monday this week I did 5.5 miles, and I was so pleased with myself that I drank
five four beers in recognition of my achievement. (Perhaps it’s not a coincidence that my Monday runs seem to always end at a brewpub where Libby meets me.)
Let’s not overstate my achievement though. My ultra-fast pace is just about stall speed for many of my running friends. But the nice thing about the running community is that everyone’s efforts and achievements are respected and celebrated. And the fact that I can say I have “running friends” at all is quite an achievement in itself given the person I used to be.
My lovely daughter, Rachel, and her fine husband, Travis, are in town this weekend for his sister’s wedding. As usual, I am the least informed about the schedule of activities, so until I’m told otherwise, I intend to get in my runs (naturally it would come back to running, right?) and then show up where and when required. They will then be in town again later this month for his grandmother’s 90th birthday celebration. (I may be 90 before I even have grandchildren.)
Rachel and Travis are putting a bid on a brownstone in Brooklyn. I’ve never understood the real estate market, much less the NYC real estate market, to know if they have a realistic chance of getting the place, but it will about triple their living space if they do get it, and it will make visiting them much less costly.
Number 3 Son, Aaron, and his lovely wife, Amber, have closed on a house in Lawrence, Kansas. They’ve been renting an apartment for several years after returning to the KC area after a stint in far western Colby, Kansas. Aaron will be a special ed teach in the Lawrence school district, so this will be convenient for him. It will add some miles to Amber’s commute, but she’s in law enforcement, so she can do her own kind of speed work on the highway and probably get away with it. I think.
The photo above is of the apothecary chest I recently awarded myself with to stow all of my running clothes and gear. They say that all you need to run is a good pair of shoes. But then there are the socks (a whole drawer devoted to them), and shorts and compression shorts (another drawer for them), and a closet full of shirts, and headlights and blinkers for early morning runs, and Gatorade (that’s fruit punch you see there, though I favor the lemon-lime — it’s all nasty, but at mile five in a hot run, nasty works). And all kinds of stuff you never knew you needed to get out and run but could never run without. The top three drawers are individual, but the bottom two layers are actually only two drawers.
I found this at a second-hand furniture store, though it turns out that this piece is new and was added to their inventory because it gets snapped up quickly by hapless buyers who are tired of scouring antique stores looking for exactly this piece. I paid more than I had intended for this, but I looked and looked for months and never found one (of quality), so everyone wins. Right?