I am going to try something different this week.
Stay with me.
But first, in training news, I will quickly mention that I rolled over a thorn on Saturday morning during my long ride, (during a hard interval), got a flat tire, (front), about 200 yards north of the Big Rock near Pt. Mugu, and proceeded to fix it in the dirt just off of Pacific Coast Highway. I was relaxed, but slightly discouraged when the tire wouldn’t fit onto the rim, “Is my tube too small?” It wasn’t, I just took more time working it onto the rim, and soon enough it was in place. My trusty pump was lame, so I tried the foam sealant, and that worked beautifully. My tire quickly became engorged with whatever chemical substance they use for that stuff, and I pleasantly pedaled the remaining twenty or so miles south along the coast to my Jeep.
Next, I ran a swift four miles, not quite as fast as I wanted, but nearly. I rounded out that especially adventurous Saturday by swimming some laps just before the sun went down, and slept soundly to run long the following Sunday.
Thorny Saturday.
That was that, but this is something else. Following is a story, or rather an exploration of an idea I had last Thursday. Let me know what you think.
My favorite thing to do is stare at my dad’s suits and dress shoes hanging in my parent’s closet. I rarely get to do it. That might be why I love it so much, every time I get to, it feels like a special occasion. He has so many suits. And so many pairs of shoes. The shoes are all leather, either black or brown, most have laces, some have tassels, but all of them are shiny, and smell amazing, like achievement and success. His suits are black, grey, or blue, one of them has stripes, that is my favorite.
He has over a thousand neck ties. Maybe less? Maybe more? He hangs them on a rotating hanger, like a mini version of the one from the dry-cleaners that spins infinite options. He probably has less than a thousand, even at seven years old I realize that might be an exaggeration, still I don’t think I have ever seen him wear the same tie twice?
Most of his suits are hanging bare, some are covered in clingy plastic, and some are zipped up in sturdier hanging bags, but there is one suit he stores in a big black box in the back of the closet. I’ve never seen him open it, or wear whatever suit is inside? I have no idea what it is? I have always assumed it is the tuxedo he wore on his wedding day? What else could it be? What suit is so important that it needs to be protected with an impossible to figure out combination lock? (Yes, I am young, but also ambitious and good with numbers). I’ve never cracked the code.
“Bruce, can you drive Taryn to school today?” I heard my mom yell downstairs.
Shoot, I’ve got to go, my dad must be home from his early morning run, he’s always rushing out of the house when it's still dark out.
To be continued...
Back to real life. I will be heading to Tempe, AZ this weekend to attend the Outspoken Women In Triathlon Summit again, which I am psyched to be a part of, and report about next week.
The song and video choice this week is one of my favorite tunes from Paul Simon, (Simone’s namesake), that reminds me of my real dad. Enjoy.