Regionals 5/18/2012

I love to travel. Currently, I’m at Mt. Tahoma… or Tacoma, Washington. Mt. Tahoma might just be the school’s name, for the Regional track meet with the High School athletes I’ve been working with.

I’m lying on a big soft comfy bed in a brand new hotel, where someone else is picking up the bill. Not bad. And I’ll be doing this for the better part of the next week. A lot of that time will be spent in buses, vans and it will be a lot of time spent away from home. But it’s nice to not be home. Sitting, working, sleeping.

I kind of with is had my camera with me. but I don’t and I’m enjoying joking with my athletes and getting to know them better after the past ten weeks.

I love traveling. And I love coaching. It’s fun when the two get together and party like this.

My athlete is hiding over there on the right in 7th. :)

And I’m proud of my kids. How hard they’ve worked. And how far they’ve come. I’m excited to see what the rest of the season will bring. I look forward to bring some part of it. And I will enjoy the comfy beds.

Oh, and this “build my own pizza” from Farelli’s blew my mind. $28?! Totally worth it.

My Life as a Hardened Criminal

In an effort to lead a healthier life, I’ve been making changes to my diet. Not cold turkey or anything. But instead small things, like eliminating soda.

Soda is how I get caffeine. The teas I like don’t have it, and I don’t like coffee. So it’s soda. I’ve fought the caffeine headaches pretty well. Combating it by chugging water, which has been helpful. I’m down to one can a day, and the headaches aren’t that bad.

So I try to go one day without soda at all. By 4pm, my brain was splitting. If I’d had other symptoms, I’d have thought I was ill. So I cave. I swing by 7-11 to pick up a Big Gulp, money in hand. The headache made it hard to see straight.

I hop in my car and drive away.

It was about 3 miles later I realized I still had a death grip on my money. I never paid. And I run the scene over again. I got my drink, walked out the door passing the clerk, into my car and I unknowingly fled the scene.

Now, something you should know: I have no stomach for thievery. In the three times I’ve stolen in my life, I have felt extreme forms of guilt.

When I was 3, I took gummy bears from those plastic bins at a grocery store. Mom said she’d tell the manager and they would have the cops take me away. I cried a lot.

When I was a bit older, I was in Sunday school and found an F1 racer matchbox car. I love it. Took it. And yes… that’s stealing from a church.

And finally, in kindergarten my Bucky O’Hare action figure was stolen just days after the arduous journey made by my parents to buy it for me. I was 5. I was pretty certain of who took it, so I took his Donatello Ninja Turtle Action Figure. I still feel terrible.

So yeah. 20 years later I steal a Cherry Pepsi. And when I found that money still gripped in my hand, sweat formed on my brow. I turned the car around and made the trip back. Walked in, cup in hand, and casually said: “umm… I think I just stole this.”

“Yeah, we were just talking about that. We wrote down your information.” He shows me a list: License Plate, Model of car, color, physical description, height, beenie, glasses, etc. Pretty good, considering I was there just a moment.

“Well, I apologize. My head is just killing me.”

“No problem. I’m surprised you came back. If it had been beer, we would have called the cops.” I laughed at this. “there’s nothing we could really do over a Big Gulp, except see if you came back. Next time, the drinks on us to say thanks for your honesty.”

Wait, what? I stole, came back and paid for it… so you’re giving me my next one free? I’m confused… and I won’t hold them to it as he wasn’t a manager. And yeah.

But my conscience is clear. The guilt is gone. And I walked around with my chalice saying “Here be my spoils!”