2023

It's time to say a goodbye to 2023.  New Year's Eve morning.  Sunday.  Portland Brew.  Jude and the boys are still in bed and I'm patiently waiting for my first cup of coffee.

I had Covid-19, again, to start the year.  Late January to early February.  Fortunately, I didn't feel as poorly as I did the first time around, in 2022.  

Work was, well, work.  More trial work or, at least, more cases that didn't settle easily.  A very difficult case that settled a week or so before trial, in mid-November.  Slightly few mediations, I think, because I had fewer available days on my calendar to mediate for others.

My partner's wife fought colon cancer, successfully, but it was a tough year for her, for sure.  A close high school friend was diagnosed with a brain tumor.  He won't outlive it but the news has been better lately.  He even started a text string about the bowl games yesterday.  My other partner has a second hip replacement right before Christmas. 

Sport, sports, and more sports for the boys.  

Basketball and baseball for JP in 8th grade, followed by travel baseball over the summer.  A trip with JP to the Tri-Cities in East Tennessee was a highlight for me, although not necessarily for the baseball.  Getting away with JP, on our own, was nice.  This fall, more travel baseball, cross country, and now, basketball.

Basketball and baseball for Joe last winter and spring.  Club soccer for Armada in spring and fall, which included a trip Joe and I took to Chattanooga.  It was enjoyable to spend some one-on-one time with Joe.  Travel baseball this fall for Joe wasn't anything to write home about in terms of how he performed as the youngest member of the team and the conflicts with soccer games.  The practices were great for Joe's development, though, and I'm interested to see how he progresses as a baseball player moving forward.  Joe ran cross country for the 5th/6th grade team at USN.  He came into his own as a full-time goalie for his Armada soccer team this fall and played particularly well at the last tournament of the season, in Murfreesboro.  In basketball, he didn't make a Stars' team after   three days of tryouts, which was intensely disappointing to him (and me), but life goes on.  

Baseball in spring was different, for sure, after Joe and his original Junior Dodgers teammates initially were left without a team as a result of the unexpected and inexplicable duplicity of Oliver Davis.  Our friendship was ruptured beyond repair because of Oliver's actions and, more significantly, the fact that he refused to acknowledge Joe or any of his teammates on the baseball field later in the spring and in the fall.  

In terms of individual performances, JP pitched a complete game in a 1 - 0 loss to David Lipscomb in the HVAC middle school tournament last spring.  Gutsy, dominant pitching performance and an all around great baseball game.  He smoked a base hit to left center field, too, in the bottom of the last inning, off Lipscomb's best pitcher, only to be forced out at second base.  Watching his teammates - most of whom were 7th graders - line up to congratulate him for pitching his balls off was a special moment for me.  

This fall, Joe put out the fire for the Dodgers, in a late season game we really, really wanted to win.  I wrote about it at the time but as I recall it now, I still get goose bumps thinking about his focus and determination in saving the game for his team.  

Jude and took the boys on a trip to California - San Diego and Santa Monica - for our summer vacation.  The highlight, of course, was seeing baseball games at Petco Park and Dodger Stadium.  I've written about that, too, but taking in two games at Dodger Stadium was a little like going to baseball heaven for all of us.  It was a trip all of us will remember, I think.

The entire cross country season for JP's MBA varsity team was, well, a dream.  It culminated in MBA's first ever trip to NXN (Nike Cross Country Nationals) in Portland, OR, after the team unexpectedly finished in second place at the NXR in Cary, NC.  We had a fantastic trip to Portland, OR, to watch the boys race.  

For me, coming out of retirement to coach Joe's Dodgers a final team, in fall baseball, was a personal highlight.  The experience was something I wanted, and needed, to bookend my baseball coaching career, as it were.  I will never, ever forget how special it was and how good it felt to be coaching my own team of Dodgers again.  Late practices on Tuesday nights with the boys and calling the shots at games on Saturdays were so memorable, particularly with the realization that it was the end of the line for the Dodgers, and for me as a head coach.  The fall season has a little bit of everything, just as I hoped it would. 

In terms of individual accolades for the boys, at the junior school graduation last May, JP was awarded best athlete fo the junior school.  That was big for him because he doesn't play football or wrestle for MBA.  To our surprise - shock, really - he also was selected as the best boy of the junior school, an enormous honor.  Jude and I had tears in our eyes as the retiring head of school, Brad Gioia, presented him with the award.  Amazing.

This fall, Joe's favorite teacher, John Kleiner, sent Joe (and us) and e-mail that made my day, month, and year.  In his own inimitable fashion, John described Joe as an "influencer" in the classroom.  Not an internet influencer but as a true leader, because of the way he treated others, participated in class, and through his leadership and the example he set.  Also amazing and more evidence that Jude and I are blessed beyond belief to have the boys we have. 

I kept running throughout the year, although my total mileage wasn't what I hoped it would be.  I finished the year strong, though, and I'll hit 20 + weekly miles today for the last week of the year, something I only accomplished one or two times throughout the year.

We spent some time in Sewanee for fall break and Thanksgiving break and, as always, had a blast. 

JP, learner's permit in hand, drove throughout the year, mostly with Jude.  I felt like I was at Disneyland, on Mister Toad's Wild Ride, with no way off every time he drove my truck with me riding shotgun.  

There's more, so much more, but that's all for now.

Suffice to say, all of us are blessed beyond belief.  

Goodbye 2023.  Hello, 2024.

The Elf, Diehard, and the Joe of Being Joe

Sometimes I find myself at a loss for words when I try to describe Joe to someone who hasn't spent any time around him.  

He's whip smart, especially when it comes to sports.  His vocabulary is incredible, probably because he is a voracious reader.  Friends who meet him for the first time often remark that talking to him is like talking to an adult.  He's friendly and, in most situations, confident.  He's a leader in the classroom and on the athletic fields.  He's very competitive.  He can be stubborn, more so than JP, but not in a bad way.  He's more determined than stubborn in certain situations.  

Joe has a great sense of humor.  His laughs easily.  Great smile, too.  Joe has a light in him, I think, that shines brightly on all of those around him.  He seemed to radiate a goodness.  A kindness.  I know I'm biased but he's just that kid, you know?  The one that other kids want to be around.  The one that adults enjoy talking to in a way that's different from most other kids.  

I've written about this before but at least for now, there is still a childlike innocence about Joe.  A naïveté that, to me, is sweet and precious.  It's fragile, I think, because at almost 12 years of age, he's soon to begin to experience life - girls, friends, school, news, pre-teen angst - in a completely different way.  I thought that would begin to happen in his 11th year but to my relief, it didn't.  He's still Joe.  Happy go lucky, inquisitive, wide eyed, and innocent (that word again).  Relatively unscathed by the harder parts of life, like untrodden ground early in the morning after an unexpected night of heavy snow.  

For example, last year Jude and I assumed Cooper the Elf was visiting us for the last time.  We were wrong, thankfully, as it became apparent in late November that Joe was imbued with enough Christmas magic for Cooper the Elf to spend another December at our house, moving around from night to night.  To out delight, Joe began asking if December 1 was the date when Cooper the Elf returned.  He believed, which to be truthful, filled my heart with joy.  So, of course, Joe got up every day in December and roamed the house looking for Cooper the Elf, laughing at whatever clever place in which he hid himself.

Then, on December 23, Joe decided it was time to leave his Christmas list with Cooper the Elf, so he could take it to Santa Claus overnight.  Jude and I laughed and suggested that Santa Claus might like Joe to send his Christmas list a little earlier next year but Joe was undeterred.  Sure enough, the list was gone when Joe found Cooper the Elf on the mantle on the morning of Christmas Eve, as Joe pointed out to us with a satisfied look on his face.  

Here's the funny part . . . to me, anyway.  

JP, Joe, and I watched Diehard for the first time a couple of nights before Christmas.  Joe absolutely loved it.  Total buy-in and a spirited discussion afterwards about whether Diehard is a Christmas movie or not.  (Joe said "no," while JP and I said "yes.")

Completely undeterred by the violence in Diehard - or Mission Impossible or John Wick 1 and 2 for that matter - Joe loves action films.  

And, yet, he believes in Santa Claus (and Cooper the Elf), which is a beautiful thing.

That's the joy of being Joe and, I should say, the joy of being Joe's father.

  

Covid-19 Christmas (Part 2)

For the second Christmas in a row, Jude tested positive for Covid-19.  I hate it for her because she has been holed up in our bedroom - the Covid cave - all week long.  Like last year, she will be out of isolation on Christmas Eve but will have to wear a mask for five days thereafter.

Joe didn't feel well Wednesday morning but tested negative for Covid-19 when I gave him a home test.  However, when I picked him up from aftercare at school Wednesday evening, he was lethargic and clearly not himself.  I ran him over to the secret Vanderbilt Walk-In Clinic on Belcourt Avenue and had him tested.  Fortunately, he tested negative for strep, Covid-19, and the flu.  Sore throat, congested, and a cough.  Not fun for Joe but not Covid-19.

As a precaution and because he was only scheduled to have a half day at school, we decided to keep Joe him on Thursday and let him rest.  His class was watching a movie and not getting any real work done on the last school day before Christmas break, so we felt comfortable giving him the day off.

JP tested negative for Covid-19, too.  His last school event for the semester was a basketball game against David Lipscomb on Thursday afternoon.  The freshman team earned a much needed victory, although nobody played particularly well against a weak opponent.  Before the game, I told JP to do two things - have fun and play with confidence.  Actually, that's kind of my approach to life, as I told him.  I'm not sure he did either one of them during the game but it's all part of the process.  He's going to have a game, soon, where he lets the ball fly and gets shots up.

I passed my Covid-19 test when I ran 4 miles the last couple of day at slightly over an 8 minute/mile pace.  That's quicker than normal for me but felt good both days, so I pushed the pace a little bit.  It's nice to finish the year with reasonably strong runs, since I've had an inconsistent year overall with my running.  I dealt with my own case of Covid-19 last January, followed by a lingering head cold in February.  More low back pain than normal didn't help, either.  I never really found my stride - pun intended - and the long runs I had hoped for in 2023 were few and far between.  Still, brick by brick, mile by mile, I kept running. I also added in late night walking (and listening to podcasts), too.

Yesterday, after running errands and stopping by the office to deliver Christmas gifts to the staff and other attorneys, I drove home with plans to get a run in before dark.  To my great good fortune, JP was about to go for a run when I arrived home.  He waited for me to change clothes and stretch, then we ran together.

JP and I don't run together as much anymore, which makes the runs I get with him all the more special and memorable.  He inspires me to run harder and to push myself when we run together.  Yesterday was no different, as I set the pace, early, at 8:05/mile or so.  For now, that's on the upper end of where I can run comfortably, although I could get under 8:00/mile and be okay.  My point is that while I was working reasonably hard yesterday and running on the outside edge of my comfort zone, JP was running effortlessly.  Breathing easy.  Cruising.  

It's a beautiful thing, as a father and a longtime runner, to share a run with him.  As we ran up Belmont Boulevard toward the end of our run, I told him, breathlessly, I was stopping at 4 miles.  I turned left on Elmwood Avenue and he kept running down Belmont Boulevard, finishing later after 5 1/2 miles or so.  As I watched JP run down Belmont Boulevard, picking up the pace, Harry Chapin's classic tune, The Cats in the Cradle played in my mind.

My boy is just like me. 

My childhood friend, Greg Westfall, was in town with his wife.  In a telephone conversation a couple of days ago, he mentioned that he'd gotten our Christmas card.  Laughing, he told me that in looking at the cross country photos of JP on the card, he couldn't believe how much he looked like I did at the same age. Greg would know, too, because we have been friends for more than 40 years.  

The next day, JP and I were at the Walgreens pharmacy, picking up a prescription.  The pharmacist technician, who was ringing our order up, stopped suddenly and looked at us.  Smiling, she said, "ya'll look like twins!"  JP and I laughed.  

My boy is just like me.

R.I.P. Frank Wychek

Truthfully, it was hard for me to type the title of this post.  I can't believe Frank Wychek died on Saturday at the age of 52.  So young.  So very, very sad.

This is one of those strange times when I find myself profoundly affected by the death of someone I never met.  I've been processing this all week and trying to understand why Frank's death hit me so hard on a personal level.  I want to be clear, too, that I'm not minimizing the tragedy or the devastating impact on his  family, particularly his two daughters and three grandchildren.

Frank was an all pro tight end in the early years of the Tennessee Titans.  Along with Eddie George and Steve McNair, his every man, lunch bucket approach to football personified those Titans' teams that came within a yard of beating the Rams in Super Bowl XXXIV.  Blue collar, tough, hard to play against.  That was the Titans of the late '90's and early 2000's.

In those days, I never missed a Titans' home game.  It was still hard to believe, at that point in time, that Nashville had an NFL team.  My law partner, Mark, and I had season tickets in the club section.  With other friends, we tailgated before every game, in the heat of early September or the bitter cold of late December.  It was a production, too, with charcoal grilling, all kinds of food, and a lot of beer.  Often times, we tailgated again after the game as we waited for traffic to thin out so we could head home.  This, of course, is before most of us had children.  The Sunday noon Titans' games were a focal point of our social lives.  

After his career ended, Frank replaced Pat Ryan as doing color commentary on the Titans' radio broadcasts with Mike Keith.  He also teamed up with Kevin Ingram and Mark Howard on 104.5 The Zone for what became the most popular morning radio show in middle Tennessee for more than a decade.  The chemistry  between Kevin, Mark and Frank was easy and natural, like catching radio lightning in a bottle.  Because of what I believe was his declining physical and emotional health, Frank left both jobs with little fanfare and became somewhat of a recluse.  It was strange, to me, for someone who had been in the public eye for so long, and seemed to enjoy it, to virtually disappear.  

Although the details aren't fully known, what has been reported is that Frank died at his house in Chattanooga after a fall in which he hit his head.  The fact that he had dealt with significant health issues due to multiple concussions and head trauma during his football career was the worst kept secret in town.  Losing Frank Wychek at such a young age makes me feel, unquestionably, that the fame and fortune that came with being an All Pro NFL tight end were not an even trade for the pain and anguish he endured after he retired and, of course, his untimely death.  

I've thought about my mom a lot since Frank died.  She loved him as a player, for sure, and maybe loved him even more as a radio personality.  My mom often called me on the mornings, on her way home from working the night shift at Baptist Hospital, to tell me about an argument she had heard Frank and Mark Howard having on the radio.  She loved the Wake-Up Zone and Frank, Mark, and Kevin so much.  

For the first time in years, I tuned in to a local radio sport talk show so I could hear Paul Kuharsky talk about Frank Wychek for the hour he was on the air.  Listening to Paul and his stories brought back a lot of memories for me of a time when the sport scene in Nashville was completed different than it is now.  In those days, what sports columnists like David Climer, Larry Woody, and Joe Biddle wrote was important.  And what sports talk show hosts like George Plaster said on the air was important, too.  Not so much anymore, because the sports media landscape is so diffused. 

Those days are gone forever.  

R.I.P. Frank Wycheck

The Day After

Last night, I attended a meeting of 5th grade parents and athletic department officials at Joe's school to talk about 5th grade sports.  It turned into a productive discussion about USN's approach, generally, to sports and where sports fits in at a school that values academic and the arts the way that USN does.  I'm hoping some positive change comes out of the meeting.

The down side was that I missed JP's basketball game at MBA vs. Father Ryan.  I didn't miss much, as his former classmate from USN, J.D., went off for 20 + points in a 19 point loss for the Big Red.  JP didn't play a lot, probably because he has missed the last few practices as he and the cross country team prepared for the Nike Cross Nationals (NXN), then traveled to Portland, Oregon.  

When I got home from the meeting, I sat down with JP in my office upstairs to debrief about the game and to do a check-in on how he was doing.  He has a lot going on right now with cross country ending, basketball getting into full swing, and exams on the immediate horizon.  

What I hadn't really anticipated or considered was how big of a let down it would be for him to see the curtain fall on this cross country season.  The boys have been running together since mid-June when they began summer workouts.  JP missed the first week or two when he was on the school trip to Rome but attended consistently thereafter for the rest of the summer.  I think he feels like the season flew by from the first race at Oakland Indian Mounds State Park in Danville, Alabama to the Nike Cross Nationals last weekend in Portland, Oregon.

Running for the past 6 + months gave JP a real sense of purpose, particularly because he values so highly being part of a team.  He is such a selfless person that placing team over individual comes very naturally to him.  Due to the leadership of Coach Russ and the seniors on the cross country team, Samuel and Mitchell, and because of the makeup of the team itself, a strong, cohesive unit formed organically and allowed JP to reach his full potential as a freshman runner.  I think JP and Gabe, as freshman, felt seen, supported, and valued by their upperclassman teammates.  That meant everything to them or so I believe.  

There as an innocence about JP's running, I think, borne out of the fact that any leadership he provided to the team was additive and not a requirement.  In other words, he was able to fit in as part of the team - in important part, no doubt - but without the pressure of leading other boys in any kind of formal manner.  Certainly, he showed leadership at various times, because he's JP and that's what he does, but I think it was understated often times subtle.  Every team is different, of course, and my guess is that next season he will need to step up and lead in a more direct and deliberate manner.

My thought, though, is that it must be tough to go from playing such a vital role on a record setting cross country team that did something that had never happened at MBA in qualifying for Nationals to being a role player on a basketball team struggling to find an identity and, on top of that, preparing for exams that begin on Friday.   That, to me, is the day after.  

As I told him last night, that's part of life.  One day, you hit a home run, experience success, and the next day, you strike out with runners on base to end the game.  I think the lesson is not just to stay even keeled but, also, to really enjoy the moments of success - of sheer happiness - in the moment.  It's almost a Zen thing.

Don't get caught in the past, because the past is gone.  Don't get upset about the future, because the future is not yet here.  There is only one moment for you to be alive, and that is the present moment. 

So much of being a parent is learning from your children.  For me, anyway.  

I've learned so much from JP during this cross country season.  And I'll keep learning from him with an open mind as he puts the season in the rear view mirror, not without a tinge of sadness and nostalgia, and moves on to the next thing.  

  

Nike Cross Country Nationals (NXN)

This team.  These boys.  This season.

What a ride it's been, from Oakville Indian Mounds Park in Danville, AL, to the McCallie Invitational in Chattanooga, to the Coleman Midgett Invitational and State Championship meets at Sanders Ferry Park in Hendersonville, to the Metro Nashville Championships at Vaughn Creek in Percy Warner Park, to the Nike NXR Regionals in Cary, NC, to at long last and for the first time ever, the Nike NXN Nationals at Glendoveer Golf Course in Portland, OR.

That's a lot of racing for JP's MBA varsity cross country team.  A long season and a lot of miles covered, literally and figuratively, from practice this summer at Vaughn Creek, beginning in July, to today's final race of the season in rainy Portland, OR.  The boys put in the work, day in and day out, and it paid off with MBA's first trip to the NXR Regionals since 2010 and the first trip, ever, to the NXR Nationals.  

It's hard to put into words how proud I am of JP and his teammates for their accomplishments this season.  As I've written in this space several times, it's a unique and special group of boys.  Close knit and of the top 5, two seniors (Samuel and Mitchell), one junior (Jack), and two freshman (JP and Gabe).  Throw in two more juniors (Jack Farringer and Charlie) and you've got a solid cross country team, top to bottom, and a group of boys who have become close friends.  

Thanks to stellar coaching and mentorship from Roderick Russ and the leadership of the senior co-captains, Samuel and Mitchell, the 2023 MBA varsity cross country team is the most accomplished team in school history.  That's my take, anyway, and I think it's accurate as no MBA team has ever been to Nationals.

After a bit of debate about what time to leave this morning, Jude and I settled on 7:45 a.m., which we hoped would give us plenty of time to get to the parking area, hop on a shuttle bus, and get to Glendoveer golf course in plenty of time for the race.  It rained most of last night and it was raining as we left the hotel before sunrise this morning.  We caught a shuttle bus with no problem and just like that, we were on location at Glendoveer Golf Course a good hour and a half before the start of the race.

Optimistically and according to weather.com, I had predicted to Jude and Joe that the rain would lift before and during the race.  Ultimately, that proved to be true but when we walked in the front gate, it was chilly and drizzling.  Typical Portland weather in December or so I was told.  Fortunately, it never started raining hard after we arrived and after a few more intermittent showers, we go the break in the rain that I had foretold.  

While Jude and Joe got in line for hot chocolate from a coffee truck on site, followed by mediocre donuts from Voodoo Donuts, I walked part of the course.  There was standing water everywhere and the fairways were muddy.  Really muddy, which I knew would make for a slower and interesting race.  I'm not sure about the upperclassmen but I knew JP had never run a race in similar conditions.  

JP surprised us by texting and walking about of "the athletes village" to give us a hug and say hello.  He was all smiles and appeared confident and relaxed.  I think I was more uptight than he was, although I didn't show it.  I choked up a bit when I saw him because, I guess, I'm so damn proud of him and I know how hard he worked this year to end up in Portland, OR, for the race of a lifetime.

It was an odd feeling in the sense that while the weekend was about JP and his MBA teammates, we never really saw any of them.  They stayed at a different hotel with runners from all over the country and had their own, singular experience, which is how it should be.  As parents, we kept up with the boys through the occasional text or photo we received from one of them, after which we shared what we had learned with the group.  For that reason, seeing JP before the race was an emotional moment for me.  

I split up from Jude and Joe, as is my custom, so I could watch the race from various vantage points.  After scouting out the course some more, I returned to the starting line in time to watch the team introductions, which were quite the production.  One by one, with parents and fans cheering and crowded around the starting line, the announcer introduced each team.  When MBA's team lined up in their black Nike NXN sweatsuits, I cheered loudly.  The announcer talked about their performance at the Southeast Regionals, called them underdogs (which they were), and pointed out it was MBA's first appearance at Nationals.  With two freshman running, they also were the youngest team in the field.  

After the team was announced, they jogged across the starting line and circled back toward "the athletes village," where they would take off their sweats, so some last minute stretching, then walk to the starting line.  I took a video of the seven of them as they passed by me.  Mitchell smiled as I yelled, "Roll Red!"  JP looked over at me, grinned, and flexed as he jogged by, slightly behind the rest of the team.  I'll remember that look on his face - that confident, youthful exuberance - for the rest of my life.  

At that point, I walked back out onto the course, in search of someone who knew his or her way around so I could position myself, strategically, in the best spot to watch the race from multiple points.  I happened upon Matt McMurray, whom I believe is the head cross country coach at Marist High School in Atlanta, GA.  He had a boy from his Marist team (Tommy Latham), running unattached, who qualified for the Nationals by finishing in the top 5 at the Regionals in Cary, NC.  He had run the course with Tommy on Friday, so he had a good feel for where we needed to be to catch the runners at multiple spots on the course.  He was super nice and agreed to allow me to tag along, as a result of which I ran behind him, slogging through mud and water, during the race to three or four different locations.

JP likes to run on the inside of course which, as luck would have it, is where Matt and I were standing, so I saw him twice.  He recognized me in the bright orange rain jacket I was wearing and heard me, both times, as I yelled for him.  He looked at me, expressionless, though he nodded almost imperceptibly.  

The finish line was too crowded for me to see JP cross it, so I settled for trying to find him in the mass of boys and parents immediately after the race was over.  First, though, I looked at the scoreboard and saw that he had finished in 16:24:08.  All of the times - including the winner at 15:16:05 - were about 30 second slow by my estimation.  JP has been running just under 16:00:00, so he was right on schedule considering the mud and standing water on the course made for difficult running.  I also noticed that for the first time this season, JP was the 2nd MBA runner to cross the finish line (behind Jack).  The order of the top five was Jack, JP, Gabe, Samuel, and Mitchell.  

In the mass of tired, muddy boys, milling around, I saw Samuel first and congratulated him.  Next, I saw Gabe, then Mitchell.  Finally, I spotted JP.  Smiling, muddy, exhausted, he hugged me.  I told him how proud I was of him.  Gradually, the boys and families assembled and we took photos of the group.  A lot of photos. 

JP, flanked by Mitchell and Samuel, seniors and co-captains.  Their leadership and friendship has meant the world to JP.  He will never forget them nor will I.  

JP and Coach Roderick Russ.  

JP and Gabe, both freshman.  I can't wait to see how they push each other over the next few years.

At one point, I asked the NXR winners - Miami Havana - to pose with our boys for a photo, which they graciously agreed to do.  It turned out that both teams had hung out together a good bit at the hotel, so it was nice to get a photo of all of them together.

MBA and Belen Jesuit Preparatory School after the race.

After a while, Jude, Joe, and I hopped on a shuttle bus for the ride back to the parking lot.  We drove home, uneventfully.  While Joe did some homework and Jude read, I went for a run on the paved trail that snakes along beside the Willamette River in downtown Portland.  Really, it was my first chance to get a run in and I didn't want the weekend to go by without lacing up my running shoes and getting outside.  

More importantly, I was inspired by JP and his MBA teammates.  I ran six miles - my longest run in a while - largely in the rain.  It was one of those runs I will remember as a "top 10 run."  

I ran to celebrate JP's accomplishments this season.  I ran for the simple joy of running.  I ran as a way to thank the Lord for the many blessings he has given me.  Family, boys, a healthy body.  I ran for life.  

I ran because it is what I have done for so very long and what I continue to do.  

I ran in the rain and I enjoyed every single step.

A Weekend in Portland, Oregon

So, as it turns out, Portland, OR, is my kind of city.  Great coffee.  Great food.  Interesting people.  Cold weather.  All of that and then some.

JP flew out of Nashville on Thursday morning, early, with his MBA varsity cross country teammates.  They connected in Seattle, WA, and had an uneventful and not time trip to Portland, OR.  Jude, Joe, and I connected in Denver, CO, where we suffered through a three hour delay before getting back in the air.  As a result, we didn't arrive in Portland, OR, until almost 8 p.m. PST.  

Things quickly smoothed out, though, as we had a great meal late Thursday night at Grassa, an Italian restaurant downtown.  Pasta made in house and red wine in small mason jars.  Just what the doctor ordered after a long day of traveling across the country.  Tarah, Jude, Joe, and I were the last ones in the restaurant before the manager politely ushered us out and back to our two bedroom cottage at the Kimpton Riverside Hotel.  

Today was a day to remember.  Coffee for me, early, at Cafe Umbria, where I drank a great coffee and read a long obituary written for Sandra Day O'Connor, who died yesterday.  

Later, we toured the Nike headquarters which was, quite simply, amazing.  What a campus, nestled on 250 + acres in Beaverton, OR.  Paul, our tour guide and a native Englishman, is a longtime Nike employee on the retail side who came to us through an MBA connection.  We learned so much about Nike as a company and got an inside look at the sprawling campus and the many buildings where approximately 10,000 employees work on site three day a week (home the other two days).  Afterwards, we stocked up on a ton of Nike gear at the Nike employee store.  

From there, Jude, Joe, and I went to Powell's Bookstore, a bucket list stop for me.  I've always wanted to go to Powell's in downtowns Portland, OR, as it's a book lover's dream.  There was so much to see and I saw it all, wondering from room to room and floor to floor, taking it all in on my first visit.  I restrained myself and left with five or six books.  

After stopping by Patagonia to get Joe a rain jacket, we drove to the hotel.  I parked our rental SUV and had a glass of wine at McCormick & Schmick's, a couple of blocks away.  Later, we had an excellent dinner there, too.  The calamari was to die for and all our entrees were fantastic.  

Tomorrow is the big day for the boys.  The Nike NXN race, which will take place in the rain on the track at a nearby golf course.  The big one - the Nationals.  It's been a great weekend for the team, who have stayed together in a hotel downtown, eaten their meals tougher, and attended various Nike sponsored events.  They had a practice run not the course this morning, in the rain.  

MBA is seeded 22 out of 22 teams running tomorrow.  The biggest of underdogs to be sure but I am thinking they will surprise some teams.  I would be beyond happy if the boys finished 15 or higher.  Realistically, that's a tall order.  Still, I'm anxious to see how they measure up against the competition from all over the country.  

MBA is hosting a watch party at school in the Burkholder Wellness Center Film Room, which is cool.  The school recognizes this is a big deal, which it is.  No cross country team from MBA has ever qualified for Nationals in the past.  So, this is huge for the school and the cross country program.

I think JP is ready.  He called Austin Weaver, a friend who won three cross country state championships at FRA and ran in college at Notre Dame.  Austin gave him great advice on running a big race like this in muddy conditions and, likely, in the rain.  It's great for JP to have a resource and a role model like Austin.

Whatever the outcome, JP and his teammates will remember this season, and this weekend, for the rest of their lives.  The bond they share will last a lifetime.  That makes me the happiest of all.