french roast

Anne and I have to get up at 4am on Sunday for the marathon, so all this week, we’re trying to reset our internal body clocks (notice I didn’t say ‘circadian rhythm’) a little bit earlier than normal,(so we’re not in a stupor at the starting line) by getting up earlier, and walking first thing.
Oh man, it’s hard. It was harder to get up this morning and walk three miles than it was to walk 13 miles on the weekend . . . but we’re doing it, and it feels very good to tell myself, “Look, man, you made a commitment to this marathon, and to Kris, and to Anne, and to everyone who has supported you. Get your fat lazy ass out of bed and walk.”
Anyway, I’m currently sitting at my dining room table, having a cup of coffee, and catching up on overnight e-mails. Anne just took the kids to school, but before they left, I asked them to hold a good thought for me at 10:50 this morning — as long as it didn’t disrupt their class.
“Why?” Nolan said.
“Because I have an audition.”
“What’s it for?”
“It’s a voice over commercial for Papermate.”
He grabbed his backpack, and while he was picking up his lunch in the kitchen he said, “Break a leg, Wil!”
That was so cool.
“Thanks, Nolan. I’ll do my best.”
“Okay! I love you! Bye!”
So now the house is quiet again, except for Felix crunching his breakfast behind me in the kitchen, and the chirping of baby birds in our breezeway.
I’m already tired . . . but it’s good tired, and I’m ready to face the day.