Halfway Through 2014

At the end of 2013, I wrote about how much running has changed my life.

Through the winter, I did not run very much because Washington is very wet and unseasonably dark at that time of year. Tougher, stronger runners can put up with that, but I am not one of those people.

My people tend to congregate on the couch and binge watch Hell's Kitchen and Orange is the New Black. We might look outside and notice the few, brave runners in dayglo orange, but that's only when we muster the energy to crane our necks away from the bright, LED glow of our televisions.

Turning Back Time

Dear 14 Year Old Shasta,

Greetings, young one! This is yourself about thirteen years into the future. I just wanted to check in on you and see how you're doing. You've been uncharacteristically quiet lately, like, really quiet and this is concerning because you typically have a way with words as evidenced by your parents' monthly phone bills and your endless journalling that would put James Joyce to shame (in terms of quantity anyway, though some of his work is a little willy-nilly if you ask me).

I Think I Can, I Think I Can...Swim?

"I just...."

"C'mon, go for it!"

"I don't know yet."

"Here let me show you, it's really easy."

"Wait a second!"

"No, we'll do it together! You'll love it!"

"Hang on! I'm not sure!"

"You don't have to be! Just try it!"

"Just hold on! I'm thinking first!"

"There's not much to think of - let's GGG-"

"WAIT!

"GGggggoOOOOOOOOO!"

One Day, I'll Drive a Ridiculous Car Too

Sometimes when I open my mouth, I hear my dad. Then I look around and Ben Lewis is no where to be found.

How did he manage to say something so quickly and leave? Where did he go?

Oh, it was me speaking. It's just that I am turning into my father.

Is this everyone's worst nightmare? Or is this everyone's eventual reality?

My dad and I are the kind of people who claim to be Type B, but we have so many Type A qualities that the latest edition of the DSM can't keep up with us.