“Today is only one day in all the days that will ever be.
But what will happen in all the other days
that ever come can depend on what you do today.”
— Barack Obama quoting Hemingway about McCain. Or something.
Today was only one day. I woke up early to watch John McCain’s funeral. I’m a die-hard socialist liberal, but I always respected the guy for reasons that have been repeated too many times this week. But in addition to the political maverick stuff, I appreciated that he loved the Arizona wilderness. We’ve stood and admired those same red rocks, the skies that go on forever, the mountains, the saguaros. I am not a big fan of Phoenix, but driving into the wilderness is pretty magical.
Just three days after he had gotten his death sentence, he went hiking with daughter Meghan. That’s her photo below. Um, I didn’t ask for permission to run it, but I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.
The reading from President Obama haunts me. What will happen in all the other days that ever come can depend on what you do today. Yikes. That’s a lot of pressure to put on my morning Cheerios. I added a banana. Just in case.
We went to see a friend in the hospital today. He expressly said he didn’t want visitors, a sure sign we needed to visit. He’s in a bad way. We’re fearing the worst. Mo points out that we’ve had too much bad lately; there’s no room. But what can you do? We brought him a sock monkey and pretended. You never know.
And then I went to run. They were painting numbers on the field. It’s bittersweet, because the school is killing the football program after this year. It’s sad, because they’re the Artichokes. How could you not love a team called Artichokes?
The run went OK, in a Summer of Muskrat what the hell was I thinking kinda way. The Townes shirt is a spectacularly bad idea, a cotton T-shirt on a 95 degree day. And the bird shoes are “running” shoes only in that somebody decided it would be a good marketing gimmick. But rules is rules. I shared the track with a couple running almost the same pace as me, a rare treat for a slow guy.
I ran along pondering mortality. I’m old. I never know if the daily run will be my last. 154 bpm when my max is 160? Don’t tell my cardiologist. But I’m at peace. Everyone dies. Friends, senators, teams. You never know when your time will come.
The important thing is today. Do something today. Today we gave a scared friend a sock monkey. Maybe that’s enough. Maybe.
SoM day 2
10 a.m., track, 95
3 miles, 41:49 (13:53, 132)
13:49, 13:55, 13:56
160, 0.73, 3.8, v34