Last Saturday morning was fun.


That’s all. It didn’t have to be glorious or extravagant.

It was fun and that was enough.

Life’s been all over the place for about 90 days. I’ve been searching for a job, which is tedious and emotionally exhausting, and ultimately leads to playing Candy Crush, doing puzzles, and getting overly excited when I beat characters with names like “All Beef Bernardo” on the Words with Friends solo challenge. I’m coming for you, Grill Master Gracie. Thankfully, I’ve been able to catch up on some books I’ve been meaning to read as well. Of course I started with a re-read of “The Goldfinch”, which is one of the best books ever written.

Also completed:

The Souls of Yellow Folk: Fabulous essays that make you laugh and think, plus excellent mic drop final lines.

Becoming: So relatable. Why we love her.

All the Money in the World: If anyone thinks their family is weird, check out this hot mess. I wish I would have kept a tally of how often I needed to reference the family tree at the beginning of the book.

Life of the Party: A Political Press Tart Bares All: Not sure that I got what I wanted, but it’s quick and readable. I’d like to have the Ari F. image removed from my mind.

Ali: A Life: One of the best biographies I’ve read and boxing isn’t an interest. A complex man who you think you know, but then you read the epilogue.

His Favorites: #metoo fiction that’s crisp and unapologetic.

Up next:

Behold America

There There

The Friend

Anyway, back to last Saturday morning. We did one of those 5K community races that I usually avoid like the plague due to the lack of organization or understanding of race etiquette among participants. I’m stoked people are out moving, but I’d usually rather be running the other way from the crowd.

But Saturday was different. Maybe because the last half marathon I did was such a colossal stink bomb. It was a mess—unorganized corrals, volunteers who didn’t have needed information, folks on the full marathon being mis-routed and missing several miles, lines stretching 20+ deep for bathrooms, and, and, and you get the point. I just couldn’t get anything going and finished almost 30 minutes slower than my usual half pace. Honestly, the only reason I didn’t pull off to the side and bag it was because I was running on the St. Jude Heroes team and figured I better suck it up because all those little kids fighting cancer sure weren’t giving up.

So Saturday I wasn’t sure what to expect. Dogs were allowed, so we registered Joey. Vonny went to Hydrant Club to hang with his friends while we ran.

The race?

The Las Vegas Great Santa Run.

Now, if you know me personally, you’d be shocked that I would don a Santa suit with a couple thousand other people to run a 5K through downtown Vegas.

But I’ll be damned if it wasn’t a good time.

Maybe it was the polyester.

Maybe it was the nice weather.

Maybe it was good friends, human and canine, hanging out back at the Hydrant Club, where we’d take pictures with Santa and eat cookies post-race.

Maybe it was running with Steve and Joey.

Whatever it was, I remembered that running is fun.