I Run These Towns

At the age 40 I've been running for 13 years, much less than half of my life. My knee surgery was a year ago, and I thought I'd be back to running right away. I did not account for the intense, crazy, insanely time consuming new job I'd be taking on two months after that surgery. The last ten months have been bananas in a good way. I have been at a conference the first few days of this week, and the rest of the week my schedule is nuts. It's entirely scheduled without a minute to spare from 8 am to 5 pm. If I need to do crazy things like go to the bathroom or read emails or prepare for a meeting...well those things either have to wait or I do them while in actual meetings (usually the latter.) Luxuries like running? I don't have time for that. While at the conference (CityLab in Detroit) I ran twice on the treadmill. My hips hurt, and I had a twinge in my knee, but I did it. In the last few months I've realized several truths: 1) I'm not in the shape I nee...

Dear Dad, It's been three years today since we saw you take your last breaths. Those moments were horrific and chaotic, and even though I was there and saw it, I recall it as if it happened to someone else. Even now, 1,095 days later, I don't entirely believe you are gone. It's been a weird three years Dad. A lot has changed. Life goes on, as you know. Remember when you used to tell us Mom wouldn't tell us when you died? And when we got home you just wouldn't be there? And you thought this was hilarious? It still sometimes feels like that happened. I always expect you will still be there when I go home, waiting up for us, watching some terrible TV show and drinking a Michelob Ultra. I have a confession to make Dad: sometimes I go days or even weeks without feeling sad. I get wrapped up in my own business and busyness, and I forget about the gaping hole in my heart and in our family. Then at other times it hits me like a ton of bricks...sometimes for days at a t...