200 years too late

The pirate flag we fly from your background playset.

The pirate flag we fly from your background playset.

Dear Izzy, Max, and Kate,

This morning I didn’t want to run. I woke up and turned off my alarm that had yet to sound. I’m preprogrammed to wake up between 4:30-5:00am now.

I had 10 miles on the schedule for today.

But I didn’t feel like going.

I laid in bed and began to think too much about the future. Wondering why anyone thinks they’re above the grip that gravity has on us all. I walked softly with bare feet through the house and peeked in on each of you sleeping.

I tied my running shoes and set off for my run.

As I ran I felt the weight of change and doubt escape, through the thick humidity after a Tennessee summer shower.

I don’t know why, but I pictured myself gliding across the open water – looking for sights I had never seen. Or for something I’d lost long ago.

For dreams I had forgotten or never imagined.

Adventure isn’t meant to be safe. Real adventure can’t be, after all.

Real freedom feels uncertain at first, until you let it guide you back to your own heart buried long ago.

I don’t know yet where our ship will land, but my spirit rose as the miles passed. I was glad I got up and ran.

Started the search again for that X on the map.

In the thick wet air I felt like an old pirate again.

200 years too late, but still getting by.

Scars and all.

Drifting offshore, waiting for a breeze.

Soaking up the freedom of life with a keen eye and thirst, as the sea breathes beneath me.

X marks the spot beneath a lone palmetto. My hand on the rail. My heart setting sail.

I love you,

– Daddy


Wed: Rode 20 miles

Thurs: Swam 2000 / Ran 4 miles

Fri: Ran 5k for Oklahoma recovery via Samaritan’s Purse, plus 1 mile warm up.

Sat: Rode 42 miles

Sun: Ran 10 miles