It was early in the morning. The coffee shop I was headed for wasn't open yet, and I was jonesin' for a blueberry muffin from Starbucks. I parked across the road in a spot that, during business hours, is a loading zone. The traffic lights were still blinking instead of doing the normal green-yellow-red thing. The White Walking guy wasn't wasn't awake for the day yet, so there was no one in the little box above the crosswalk to tell me it was ok to cross the road. Guess I was on my own. Fortunately there wasn't much traffic.
They've changed the muffin wrappers at Starbucks. A square sheet of paper shoved into the bottom of a round muffin tin. The sides of the muffin go straight up, instead of mushrooming out like they did when they used the regular cupcake cup papers. They don't put as much of that crumbly stuff on them either. I think it screws up the ambiance. I don't like the change. Their coffee's still the best though.
I stood at the corner after leaving the coffee shop. The Red Hand telling me, "NO! Don't come across now. Wait for the little White Walking guy.
There wasn't much traffic. I went across the road. The Red Hand be damned!
I crossed the road. I didn't die. It's going to be a great day.
I have these moments that I break out into laughter. It's the total amusement with the coolness of my life.
I was hiking across the ridgeline in the Patriot Hills one time. Patriot Hills is a very small mountain ridge--maybe 2 or 3 miles long, that protects an ice runway in Antarctica. I was there for a marathon at the South Pole. While we had some time, a bunch of us were hiking across the length of the ridge. I suddenly started laughing. Doug looked at me and said, "What!?" I told him. "Right now, my friends are back home, going about their normal day, working, dealing with the day-to-day stuff, and I'm here, walking along a mountain ridge in Antarctica!"
Pretty freakin' cool, I think.
I was standing alone in the airport in Tromso, Norway, wondering how I was going to get into town, where the registration for the marathon was, where I was going to stay when I got there.
A guy there who seemed to be looking for someone spotted my Columbus Marathon shirt and figured maybe I was one of the people he was looking for. I wasn't. But while he waited for two other runners that he'd never met before, we struck up a conversation. He was a race staffer, there to pick up a couple runners from the airport. He offered me a ride, dropped me off at race headquarters, and pointed out the information desk so I could find out where a nice place to stay might be.
I was there for the Midnight Sun Marathon. Because it was so expensive to get an international funds money order, I decided to just wait until I got there to register for the marathon. So I showed up in Tromso for one of the northernmost marathons in the world, with no registration, no place to stay, and no advance notice.
My friend from the airport told his buddy at the local newspaper. He tracked me down at my hotel, interviewed me, and came out and took my picture. I was in the paper the next day--an American who had just showed up to run their marathon. I was getting quoted in Norwegian. I don't even speak Norwegian.
A sad moment this morning. My friend Susie's mom died this weekend in an accident. She was 80. My thoughts are with you Susie.
It's my responsibility in life to help move the human race forward. I don't know if there's anything after this--I'm thinking there isn't. But whether there is or not, it's my obligation to help people become more than they are--to help our species--my fellow human beings, actually move ahead. That, in my ideal world, is what I'm moving toward--to make everyone I come into contact with a little better, a little stronger, a little more capable, a little more confident. (From "Devotions for Athiests" by Jackson Timbers)
If you're not well fed, you're in no position to feed others. If you're not full of life, it's hard for you to fill other people.
It's important for us to do things to feed ourselves--not just physically, but spiritually. We need to have big dreams and goals and work toward them.
In the process of accomplishing big things, you bring other people along with you.
(Incomplete thoughts--I'll edit later)