Sunday 5 a.m. -- wake up (at home), grab coffee, oatmeal. 5:45 a.m.-- throw shorts, shoes, shirt on, out the door at 6 a.m. Jog up to local soccer fields for 10 x 3/400meter pickups. LAX to Boston flight out at 10:30 a.m. Glancing at watch more than usual. I make it through workout with time to spare. No time to waste. Jog home to shower, see my wife, kids for a few minutes. Out the door for airport. 10:40 a.m. flight departs. 7 p.m. (east coast time) flight lands in Boston. 8 p.m. -- arrive at hotel near airport, eat dinner, 9 p.m. in bed, asleep. Monday 5 a.m. (yes, 2 a.m. pacific time) wake up, grab coffee, oatmeal. 5:45 – throw shorts, shoes, shirt on, out the door at 6 a.m. (3 a.m. pacific time). Jog through old town of Revere to the Massachusetts shore for 8.4 mile out and back run. 7:01 a.m. -- stop to crouch down for photo of large shell illuminated by the rising sun. Glance at watch. Time is tight, but I won’t let it control my mood. Seagulls screech over my head and on the sand around me. They’re emboldened by the ebbing tide. They embolden me. 7:10 a.m. I find my stride. Wow, my training is really working. 8:30 a.m. (5:30 a.m. pacific time) I’m off to my meeting. 4:30 p.m. flight home lifts off. 6:11 p.m. -- I write this blog, sitting on the plane, listening to Linkin Park’s “Numb”. It helps my mood. I think of tomorrow morning. It's 5 a.m. pacific time, I wake up, grab coffee, oatmeal. I crouch down at 6 a.m. to lace up my shoes, I pause.
My mind flashes forward. I can hear my foot steps, and a voice. I don’t know who’s voice it is. But it’s familiar. Its reassuring, and tells me something I’m beginning to understand, but haven’t fully grasped. It just tells me this matters.