Uncharacteristically I was up late the past two nights. Thursday I was up past midnight and last night/this morning I was up until well after 1 am. Fortuitously the barista overfilled my coffee this morning and I’m wearing most of it. She was pleasant though.
In the wee hours of this morning I wrote a haiku:
Limbs abuzz with itch, bees, and
It’s been a long time since I’ve been aware of my nervous system being on fire. I’ve not had insomnia in a long time. A few months ago I started putting all electronics out of the bedroom at night, and I’ve been careful to make sure I’m cooled down, showered, or relaxed before heading to bed. So I can’t complain too much. I’ve been getting good rest. I don’t feel too wrung out this morning. If I can soldier on through the afternoon I should be good.
My trailrunning training is underway. I’m scheduled to run 8 miles tomorrow. I’m shooting for a marathon length run on October 4 which is the day the Cloudsplitter 100 starts. That puts me at 18 miles on the day of the Rugged Red. We’re still discussing the Iron Horse. I’m torn. I kinda want to be there in support mode for Mandy, but I kinda want to run it too.
Matt Hoyes’ completion of the Sheltowee has me even more inspired to run. I’m confident I can be a normal guy in a cube and pull it off. Speaking of…
Last night we were talking about the kids going back to school. August 4th…I know…ridiculous. I jokingly complained that when I decided to go back to Leadville these early start dates would complicate things. Back to Leadville.
The book is idling. I need to crank that thing out. I need to be pushing it toward publication. I could hold off until I get one more shot at the buckle, but the reality is that the return for a buckle isn’t part of the greater story. It’s the sequel…the quiet post script. It doesn’t matter as much. So maybe it can wait.
My mountain bike is crumpled on the floor of the Bike Cave. It needs new spokes and a new rim. Jefry said he’d finish it if I got it all laced up and ready to go. I’m itching to ride. I’ve not had any dirt therapy in a few weeks. I’ve been catching myself daydreaming about the Mohican too.
It’s a sickness—this obsession with mountain bike racing—I need treatment.
How did I get over my obsession with rock climbing?
Oh wait, I never did.