Usually when I go more than a week without posting anything itâ€™s because Iâ€™m either travelling without internet, or just so busy that I donâ€™t have the the time or energy to write anything. Not this time, Iâ€™ve had plenty of time, just no muse.
I did a talk last week with Raise The Bar, which was exciting. Thereâ€™s no story attached to that, other than having fun shmoozing with the big wigs of the local triathlon scene. I also spent a couple days in Federal Way (a town with the nicest pool in the country, but nothing else going for it) with my friend Phil Spencer. Heâ€™s been doing triathlon for way longer than me, and probably knows more about the sport than I do, but he has a chiropractic clinic he has to run (Spencer Chiropractic) which makes it too hard to win big on the international scene.
Meanwhile, my muse for creative writing took a vacation with Loren, in which he caused some oversized woman to clog an airplane toilet on takeoff (Iâ€™m actually happy not to be writing about that first-hand), placed sharp, race-ending rocks under the feet for both Courtenay and Chris Tremonte at Wildflower (say what you will about Oprahâ€™s Secret, but can you really tell me itâ€™s pure coincidence that two people can can room together at a race, converse for two days beforehand, have similar energies and attitudes going in, and they both suffer the same injury and have the same race. Iâ€™m not saying you can will a rock under your foot, but itâ€™s still suspicious to me.), and Manny Ramierez is terrifying fantasy fans who will have to suspend him from their rosters for 50 games.
Meanwhile, Iâ€™m sitting at home through a series of cold spring storms wondering how on Earth I am going to be ready for the 90 degree mid-western temperatures in Oklahoma City and Austin the next two weekends. Itâ€™s sure to be an exciting month, which Iâ€™ll write about, whether or not I can find the magical words of creativity and inspiration.