Up Here on the Mountain

I know I say it every time we're up here but, for me, there's just something special about being on the Mountain, especially when we're staying on Sewanee's campus.

Our day, today.

While Jude and the boys are finishing up breakfast - scrambled eggs, fruit, and assorted pastries I brought from Meridee's Bakery, two doors down from my office in Franklin - I left to go for a run.  I ran through campus and downtown Sewanee, such as it is, an on to the Trail of Tears greenway.  Out and back for a nice 6 mile run.  Straight from the house we're staying in on Tennessee Avenue.

Jude and the boys hiked Abbo's Alley and just as they finished, I met them at the Sewanee football field.  J.P. and Joe tackled the blocking dummies while Jude and I watched, laughing.  Then, we played two-on-two football, switching up teams with every play.  Family time on the football field.

Next, back to the house.  Jude and the boys played scrabble in front of the semi-roaring - ok, not roaring - gas fire in the fireplace.  I picked up a couple of Christmas gifts at the bookstore, then ate lunch at the house with Jude and the boys.

After lunch, Jude hiked to Bridal Veil Falls, while J.P., Joe, and I went to look around at the pro shop at the Sewanee golf course (where we bought a pullover to give Jude for Christmas that she saw there yesterday).  The boys and I drove over to the baseball field and threw, then took some infield.  While we were there, the Sewanee baseball coach ambled up.  He was happy to see someone using the filed and after tinning the boys a tip or two, he and I chatted for 15 - 20 minutes.  He invited us back anytime and asked me to e-mail him next time we were coming up, so he could show us the indoor baseball facilities.

The boys and I played Blitzball on the softball field for a few minutes, then drove home.  While Jude naps, they're doing "30 for 30" - 30 minutes of reading followed by 30 minutes of iPad time.

Later, we may play tennis, under the lights, on the Sewanee tennis courts, then have dinner at the Sewanee Inn.

There's always so much to do for us here, up on the Mountain.  It's barely more than an hour away from Nashville, but it seems like a world away.

This getaway was what we needed.  Really, I think it was what Jude needed, since she's been working from home since March.  When your home becomes your office, to get away you really need to get away.

Eight Miles of Pure Bliss on the Mountain

This morning, up here on "the Mountain," I had a damn near perfect run.

We're in Sewanee for the Thanksgiving holiday, renting a house on campus on Tennessee Avenue.

As I walked outside the house into a beautiful, brisk Thanksgivng morning - temperature in the high 40's - I turned on John Hiatt on Spotify.  No playlist, just random Hiatt songs.  It turned out to be the perfect choice, for my mood and for the run.  It was cool, on my run, to hear so many of the old Hiatt songs I haven't heard for so long.  

I was a big, big John Hiatt fan a couple of decades ago - still am, really.  Saw him live several times.  I even went to his house for a wedding a lifetime ago when my friend, Sarge, married Jennifer.  As I recall, Jennifer's aunt was married to John Hiatt.  

Great songwriter and, in my mind, similar to John Price.  Great sense of humor but poignancy in his songs, too.

I wasn't sure, exactly, where I wanted to run.  I ran down to the intersection at the beginning of "downtown" Sewanee, by The Blue Chair and Shenanigan's and turned right, looking for the Trail of Tears greenway.  

What I found, instead, was a gravel road marked "private," with a purple (Sewanee's color) barrier blocking entry.  Like any good trail runner, I ran around the barrier and decided to see where the road would take me.  Boy, was I glad I did.

The gravel road narrowed pretty quickly into a large path completed covered in fallen leaves.  Orange, yellow, and red.  It was like running on a multi-colored, carpet of leaves.  Beautiful.  I loved it.

There's something special about running a route for the first time, sometimes for the only time.  I feel more alive and in the moment.  

I felt strong and fast as I ran down the trail, marveling at the beauty all around me.  The sun was shining through the trees, which made the colors of the leaves even brighter.  To my surprise, I ran by a waterfall on my left.  

In the end, I ran about three miles or so out the trail, then turned back.  My run was eight miles in all.  Maybe the best eight miles I have run all year.

It was just one of those amazing and memorable runs, the kind I chase all year long.  Perfect weather.  Perfect music.  Perfect route. 

Perfect run.   

Missing Mom

The holidays are upon me, officially.  As I left the office this afternoon, I saw that the City of Franklin had put up the giant Christmas tree on the public square.  I'm guessing it will be decorated tomorrow.  

Thanksgiving is next week.  Jude and I are renting a house in Sewanee, so our family will spend its first Thanksgiving, ever, away from home.  Given the uncertainty and, well, weirdness, surrounding the holidays because of the pandemic, it makes sense to do something different, I guess.  Hopefully, Jude's folks will be able to join us for Thanksgiving dinner on Thursday.

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about my mom and how much I miss her.  She loved the holidays so much, mostly because it brought our family together, I think.  Some of that has been lost and it makes me sad.  To be honest, the ties that bound our family together have unraveled more than a little since she died.  That makes me sad, too, because I know it would disappoint her.    

Even before her health began to fail her, so much or our lives this time of year seemed to revolve around her.  Planning for Thanksgiving and Christmas.  Christmas cards and the calendar of the boys I make every year as a Christmas gift.  Christmas lists for the boys and yes, me.  Every year, she'd renew my subscription to Sports Illustrated and Jude's subscription to Southern Living.

So much has happened in the almost two years since she died.  JP and Joe have grown so much.  They're such good boys.  So funny and smart, with such great personalities.  She would have loved spending time with them.  And, damn, would they ever have loved to spend time with her back when she still had her fastball and could dish it out and take it.  They would have loved her sense of humor, especially now, as they've gotten old enough to appreciate it.  

Her love of sports, which I inherited and, of course, passed down to the boys, would have delighted them.  I wish she could have seen JP and Joe playing baseball this fall.  She would have been so into the games, so proud.  Sometimes I feel haunted, in a way, by what might have been as it relates to the boys' relationship with my mom.  

What to do?  For me, appreciate holidays, as I always do.  Take time to enjoy them.  Live in the moment, in the here and now.  Stop, for just a minute, and appreciate the little things.  

And that's what I'll do.  

  

I Am a Runner

A quick one while I sip a latte at Honest Coffee Roasters - in my usual seat at the table in the middle of the shop - before I head home for the evening.  

It's dark outside, cozy and warm here in the coffee shop, music playing quietly in the background as people wrap things up for the day.  

I left the office a little after 4 p.m. and went for a run.  Beyond beautiful for a fall evening in Franklin, as I ran the grass trail at Harlinsdale Park.  I ran the complete trail last week for the first time and I love it.  All grass, hilly in places, particularly on the back side, and a gorgeous run.  

Harlinsdale Park is a little bit difficult to get to, right now, due to the road construction project on Franklin Road.  It's all but eliminated the shoulder on both sides of the road, which makes it a bit dicey to run on Franklin Road in 4 - 5 p.m. traffic.  It's doable, though, if I'm careful, and the run is easily worth the effort.

I had another special run this evening.  6 + miles.  Fast and strong.  I had a moment, as I ran down the last grassy hill on the back side of the park, 4 miles or so into my run.  I felt so alive, so blessed to be able to run like  that at age 54.  I don't take it for granted, not for a minute.  Every run is a gift, for sure, at least the way I see it.

I've said it before, I think, but running is like meditation for me.  It clears my head, literally.  Often times, on a really good run like tonight's, my mind is empty and I think about . . . nothing.  

I breathe in.  I breath out.  I run.

Just like that.

"Why doesn't everybody do this?" I wondered, as I ran through Harlinsdale Park this evening, watching the sun set ahead of me.   

Running keeps me young or, at least, it keeps me feeling like I'm young.  I feel closer to my creator, to God, when I run.  I feel blessed.  Happy.  Blissful, even.

So fortunate.  So lucky to have found running or for it to have found me.  So many runs over the past 30 years or so.  Miles and miles.  Every single one a gift.

     

October Surprise

So, we have a new president elect, Joe Biden.  Sort of.  

While Donald Trump continues his quixotic quest to overturn the results of a fairly contested election - one he lost - hundreds of thousands of Americans test positive for COVID-19 every day.  In fact, yesterday, a record - 124,000.  Hospitalizations and deaths, nationwide, are on the rise this fall, an eventuality that was predicted by virtually every epidemiologist who commented on the pandemic.

It's saddening and depressing in many ways.  It's anxiety inducing, also, to those of us who live in fear of catching the virus.  Or of the virus catching us.  

Strangely enough, although statistically things are worse than they were last spring, when the economy was shut down, many people - including several standing maskless right in front of me as I write this at Honest Coffee Roasters - act as if the pandemic isn't occurring.  This is especially true in Franklin and Williamson County, where I work.  

Across the country, the governors in several states are imposing, or re-imposing, lockdown measures designed to curb the spread of the virus.  Restaurants closing at 10 p.m.  Limiting the size of public gatherings.  Closing gyms, nail salons, and spas.  The Los Angeles Lakers announced yesterday that when the 2020-21 NBA season starts in late December, there will be no fans at the Staples Center.  

On the home front, Jude and I pulled Joe out of fall basketball last week, before his first practice.  First Presbyterian Church in Nashville canceled the fall league he usually plays in,  so we had signed him up for a league based out of the Brentwood YMCA.  The games were to be played at a multicourt facility in Franklin and he would be playing for a coach we didn't know and with boys we didn't know.  In the end, we decided the juice wasn't worth the squeeze, so we pulled him from the league.  He was disappointed but it was the right decision.

JP is playing basketball this fall - for the first time - for my friend, Isaac Connor.  It's a great opportunity for him to play for and learn from a different coach.  I have coached Isaac's sons, Cyrus and Elias, in baseball for years, and I know Isaac well, so I am as comfortable as I can be with JP playing basketball during the pandemic.  At his first practice last night, though, I deliberately stayed out of the gym at Brentwood Academy where he was practicing.  It's an auxiliary gym - small, no where to sit - and I just didn't feel comfortable lingering in it and watching practice.  

At work, I have 13 or 14 mediations scheduled between now and Christmas.  In mediations, I spend as much as eight or ten hours shuttling back and forth between two conference rooms in my office, meeting with the parties and their attorneys.  In the end, that's where I'll get the virus, I know, because it's really impossible to properly distance in a closed conference room during an eight hour day.  I can't really mediate with a mask on because it's just too hard to connect with people.  Zoom mediations just are not effective either.

So, the show must go on and, in fact, it does go on.  I don't see the economy shutting down again.  I think COVID-19 will be with us through the winter months, at least.  My law partner, Mark, laughed in my face last spring when I told him 1,000,000 Americans might lose their lives.  241,809 deaths to date, according to the New York Times, and climbing.  I hope he's right and I'm wrong.

Dark times, in many ways.  It's important, I guess, to enjoy the little things.  A late afternoon run.  A good book.  A family dinner.  Watching American Ninja Warriors, the Mandalorian, or All or Nothing (Tottenham) with the boys.  

And try not to let the virus catch me.