So, a lot of ground to cover. Writing time is precious and I have been negligent. Notes here and there, but not taking enough time to put down meaningful words. So, trying to catch up, but still, it feels hurried. Work is busy. Not overwhelming yet, but busy all day every day.
I ran across an old friend and we had a drink and a great night. Ashley is to be married soon—sadly not to me, so we will remain good friends. But lovely to see her as always.
I have a full travels schedule for a bit. Cincinnati last weekend for the Flying Pig. This weekend to the farm for Mother’s Day. Next week in Missoula. The following week in London and then a weekend in Amsterdam with Sjoerd and Onah. Back for a few days and then to Chicago for work and then the weekend for fun.
Last weekend I traveled to Cincinnati for our annual family gathering to walk or run the Flying Pig. This year the crew was Larry, Martin, Pam, my friend Maureen and myself. I had not seen Maureen for more than 10 years or so, but she happened to be in the area for her work and so she joined us. Was great to see her again.
Since we were all in varying degrees of physical decrepitude or suffering from general aches and pains, we decided this year to all walk together. It’s the first time I have ever walked a race. It was interesting. A very different dynamic. We chatted while we checked out the old neighborhoods and strolled up and down the hills of the city; stopped for a few photos. It was fun. A nice day. My big mistake was I bought some cheap socks on Saturday during check-in and wound up with massive blisters on my feet.
On Saturday night, before the race, we had smoked prime rib sliders with horseradish sauce, fried jalapeños, and Irish Cheddar. For sides, chipotle Mac-n-Cheese. So a terrific meal before the big walk. After, Larry and Martin played guitar and we all sang. Pretty poorly I imagine, but with spirit.
A 13 mile walk still comes with consequences, especially when not in shape. When I played rugby, it was always the Tuesday practice after a tough tournament that was brutal. In most tournaments, we would play 3 games on Saturday, and if we were through to the finals, another tough match on Sunday. So it was a bruised and battered crew that showed up at practice on Tuesday. It was common to have black and blue toes from being stomped on in mauls and lots of minor cuts—bruises all over from tackling and being tackled.
So today, Tuesday, after a 13-mile run on Sunday, is also uncomfortable. My calves and thighs are pretty sore and of course the previously mentioned blisters. Getting old is not for sissies. I will try to get back on the bike at least by tomorrow and maybe a short run on Thursday or Friday. And then back to my normal routines.
After the race, we followed our other annual tradition, which is to go drink beer at Findlay Market.
Just before I left my old job at Vertiv, a colleague and friend found out through a LinkedIn post that I had written a book. He asked me about it and then he ordered a copy from Amazon. He also sent a check to me as a donation for MYO. We spoke by phone yesterday and he told me how much he enjoyed the book and wanted to make another donation to MYO.
This is cool for several reasons. One, every author loves getting unsolicited positive feedback about their work. So that is always awesome. Next, I had always envisioned a scenario in which the book and MYO created a symbiotic relationship in which awareness and interest in MYO may drive sales of books and people reading the book may have an interest in MYO and make a donation. So this has happened a total of perhaps 3 times in the last 10 years. Once this week. So, maybe it is a trend that will result in 4 or 5 books a year being sold by the time I die.
The Martini Tales 