It’s Halloween. Do you want to get scared? Take a glimpse inside The Fun Dome for just a few of my thoughts during a 20-mile rollerski along the shore.
- It’s nice to rollerski next to Lake Superior. All the leafpeepers are gone. Not too much traffic on the shore road. It’s a Monday after all. Just me and that laker and the overcast. Going out to beat yourself up for 20-miles is actually a luxury on a workday for most other people.
- Whoa, I think that scat might be from a wolf. It definitely wasn’t from a dog. Maybe from that lone wolf that was getting sighted there by Brighton Beach last year.
- I’m going to bet I’m the only person who rollerskied 20-miles next to a big lake in the Great Lakes region. Maybe in the whole world. Not fast, but unique.
- 500 miles of driving to Mankato in the last 48 hours to see Sam ride in the JV Division 1 Division of the State High School Mountain Bike Championships. He was around 13th of 60 riders or so. Something to see those kids ride 12 miles through the mud. Name another high school sport where the kids are “on the rivet” for an hour. Varsity did 5 laps instead of three. 20 miles. No big deal.
- I’m sore from the dirt sample I took when pre-riding the course the kids did. I remarked to someone that I was getting “too old for this shit.” They said, “No you aren’t.”
- This rollerski and the previous one are the first times this year that the road has “tipped down.” I can tell I’m finally getting in shape for running/cycling/skiing when the incline lessens and I actually feel acceleration as if I’m being pulled forward. It’s a subtle thing, mostly mental probably. But speeding up without meaning to is a symptom of good things. Just in time for Yellowstone.
- Fund raiser at the Grand Avenue Chalet last week for the Grand Avenue Nordic Center. Live band. Good times. New baseball hat. New Swix hat. DXC, baby. Great to be part of such a group of active people. As role models for my kids. For my whole family, really.
- I flew with a guy earlier this year who could barely get out of his seat in the cockpit. He was 52. Three years older than me.
- Wife’s cousin’s wife dying of terminal brain cancer. Won’t get to see their kids grow up.
- Friend I served with in Iraq is fighting off pancreatic cancer. A young wife and mother with little kids.
When I hit the turnaround and head back to town into the 15 knot headwind and it starts to rain at 45 degrees F, I’m grateful.