Posts that I don't post...

I have posted about 1100 times on this blog, but I have many that I never posted. Rambling thoughts mostly. Last night I wrote a post and didn't hit publish. But as I reread it I love it. I had a completely 'checkered' life from the time I dropped out of college until ~1996, there's things I won't ever tell. I have done some crazy things and been a lot of places. From spending New Years getting hammered with Eric Idle while 'his wife went shopping and spent all his Goddamn money' (he drinks extra dry martinis by the way), to having dinner next to Peter Gabriel who was on his honeymoon and ending up pulling a table over after dinner and drinking together. His honeymoon video has us doing shots together. I was a bartender in the most popular bar in St John on 3 of the biggest nights the bar had and would make $800 in an 8 hour shift and have served people from James Hetfield (beer) and Anthony Kiedis (beer) to Jimmy Buffett (dark rum with a splash). I've slept on beaches in Trinidad and Bonair and been to Haiti and Jonestown in Guyana. I've schmoozed my way out of surely getting killed by a gang of punk kids in the interior of the Amazon (with a pack of Marlboros and a lie that I was in the US military) and turned down an invite to the room (ya, THAT kind of invite) of a Canadian government official. Almost too many things to remember but I write stories to help. Here's my post from yesterday...

I may or may not have run today. But I spent 10 hours at my computer planning schedules and answering e-mails from as far away as South Africa. Not that far though in 'Kevin Bacon's 6th degree'... did I ever tell you the story about my friend (he lived on the boat next to mine in the Caribbean. I had coffee on every morning and he would row over and we would sit on deck and smoke (stuff) and drink (not always coffee) and watch the tourists float in) who used to steal boats from South Africa and sail them to Miami (sometimes Trinidad which is where I met him) and sell them? He died of a meth overdose. Hell of  a great guy. Meth head pirate that would give the shirt off his back for a friend. One of my early life lessons... I was 22 years old. Busy day for me though as my 'business' is at a high with 18 athletes. My brain is a bit fried so it's hard for me to sit here and write about the details of the kick ass run I may or may not have had. It was awesome though...
 We head to Seattle this week to visit friends and family and I'll be in Bellingham for at least a few runs, some of the best trails in the world if not the whole county. I cut my trail teeth in Bellingham with a guy that would go on to be a brother. Mike flew to Ironman Hawaii a couple of times to support me. My wife and I were living in a 600 sqft apartment in Seattle while she went to grad school at UW. I was a mechanic at a bike shop and we barely made the ends meet. As I was getting ready to fly to Kona one year Mike dropped by and gave me a pair of running socks as a gift for the race. I was genuinely thankful and wore them in the race. When I arrived in Kona I got ready to go out for a run and went to put the socks on and there were three 100 dollar bills stuffed inside them. That's Mike... can't wait to see him.
 Funny how we can look at hard times in the moment and they suck or we don't truly appreciate them in the moment. But years later you can look back at them with fond memories. Some of the best memories really. 'Hardship is the chisel that forms who we are'. And my friends. The people that come in to my life and make me think and teach me things. People that inspire me and interest me. Tom (the pirate), or Dennis the 'pepper' farmer from Puerto Rico or Dirty White Boy (another close friend. Also a boat neighbor... that's a whole nother few stories. But a damn good few stories at that! He was the care taker for a 70 million dollar house on a private island (people like J Lo, Costner, Jay Z have rented it) and he would call us when it was vacant sometimes and we would sail over and spend the night. DW had a checkered past but he was extremely intelligent and at his core a truly good person. He had lots to teach and a 23 year old kid and I looked up to him... but he was always fond of excess and died of a heroin overdose. Maybe that was the last lesson he taught me? Two guys in suits with badges from an 'international agency' came in to my bar shortly after he died asking questions. Funny though, I never knew his real name until that point.) or Mike. My trip to Seattle has sparked my nostalgia but I also realize that I have nothing like these memories from Colorado. Colorado brings me my sons and a whole new stage in life, a calm life ('the bear inside is sleeping' is an old Indian adage) but also a chance to teach my sons the things I've learned. Lots more to learn for sure, for my sons AND me.