Really, it's just a number... a large number. Twice the size of 20, yet only half of 80. Supposedly it once rained for 40 days and 40 nights. It's not as magical a number as "3". 40 minutes is a good time for a 10k. 40 minutes is the clock time for NCAA Basketball games.
40 is now my age. Fortunately, it is also NOT my waist size. If it was my inseam, then I'd be an NBA superstar... or at least sitting on the bench making millions.
My wonderful wife started off the weekend by taking me to Nordies for some shopping (personal shoppers rock!). She spoiled me there and spent a LOT on new clothes for me. I took off (kicked out???) early Saturday morning for Mt. Hood Meadows with some friends. A whole day of snowboarding on some great powder. I come home to find the front of the house decorated with balloons, a giant 40, and some streamers. The inside has been decorated, cleaned, food set up, lots of beer and wine. She'd spent the whole day getting the house ready for this surprise. No one has ever done anything remotely like this for me before. My mom was already there, my best friend Greg would soon arrive. Stinky Court, people that I am close to at work, my neighbors (the good ones), and the beer man. It was the right people, the perfect setting, and it was all done by Buff.
She's exhausted this morning, and has certainly earned some rest time. She didn't have to do all of that for me, but I am so very, very grateful for what she did. I feel special and am very grateful to have her in my life.
Buffy, I can't thank you enough for the wonderful, wonderful birthday!!!
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Changes in attitude...
It's winter in Oregon. Know how I can tell? Mt. Hood turns all white and the temptations of fresh powder overwhelm the urge to be a productive citizen and work. I gave into said temptations last Thursday and was rewarded with some great powder and a chance to clear my head of the latest drama.
For anyone that reads this, you'll note a change in the title of my blog. It's no longer the Road to Boston 2008, but now more of the Quest for Boston. I will BQ someday. It may be this year, or next, or some other year. Obsessing about it won't get me there any faster. I could run Valentine's (VM) and probably qualify, but the way I feel today is that the training to get there will interfere with the need to be in the snow. I passed on a great season last year because I felt I couldn't miss my long ride or long run on the weekend. Life is too short. Besides, VM doesn't excite me much. Eugene Marathon, however, does. It's where I became a runner. The route is one I could do with my eyes closed.
Back to the drama...
I have this not so unusual birth defect called a father. Everyone has one. Some of us have 2. Many have one that was never a part of their life. I had one that was great to me and was always a part of my life. When he passed away, it was hard on me even though he was my step-father. But on my birth certificate, he was my legal father. In many ways, he treated me better than his own, but not because he wanted it to be that way. His gravestone, and the way that I will always remember him says "Loving Father".
Enter the "sperm donor"... (thanks Nicole for the title!)
I have some memories of spending time with him as a child... 35 years ago. They were good. Since then I can say that we have not spoken 35 times. He's called on my birthday maybe a half dozen or so times. Basically, he's not a part of my life. Ever. And I would like to keep it that way.
Last week I got a call from his ex (#2) that he was in the hospital, possibly with cancer. Something that I should know at least... hey, guess what, there's a history of this shit in my family... great... They were supposed to call back, and I guess I could call, but I have principles. If you say you will call, then call... otherwise don't make yet another promise that you can't keep. I feel bad for my half brothers. They are close to him. However, even though I have tried in the past to be a part of that family, I am not.
My father, the man who raised me, the man who I respect greatly passed away in 2005 the day after fathers day. I wish this other person the best of health, but unless you actively involve me in your life, I'd rather stay out of it. LIfe's too short for your BS. I'm going boarding.
For anyone that reads this, you'll note a change in the title of my blog. It's no longer the Road to Boston 2008, but now more of the Quest for Boston. I will BQ someday. It may be this year, or next, or some other year. Obsessing about it won't get me there any faster. I could run Valentine's (VM) and probably qualify, but the way I feel today is that the training to get there will interfere with the need to be in the snow. I passed on a great season last year because I felt I couldn't miss my long ride or long run on the weekend. Life is too short. Besides, VM doesn't excite me much. Eugene Marathon, however, does. It's where I became a runner. The route is one I could do with my eyes closed.
Back to the drama...
I have this not so unusual birth defect called a father. Everyone has one. Some of us have 2. Many have one that was never a part of their life. I had one that was great to me and was always a part of my life. When he passed away, it was hard on me even though he was my step-father. But on my birth certificate, he was my legal father. In many ways, he treated me better than his own, but not because he wanted it to be that way. His gravestone, and the way that I will always remember him says "Loving Father".
Enter the "sperm donor"... (thanks Nicole for the title!)
I have some memories of spending time with him as a child... 35 years ago. They were good. Since then I can say that we have not spoken 35 times. He's called on my birthday maybe a half dozen or so times. Basically, he's not a part of my life. Ever. And I would like to keep it that way.
Last week I got a call from his ex (#2) that he was in the hospital, possibly with cancer. Something that I should know at least... hey, guess what, there's a history of this shit in my family... great... They were supposed to call back, and I guess I could call, but I have principles. If you say you will call, then call... otherwise don't make yet another promise that you can't keep. I feel bad for my half brothers. They are close to him. However, even though I have tried in the past to be a part of that family, I am not.
My father, the man who raised me, the man who I respect greatly passed away in 2005 the day after fathers day. I wish this other person the best of health, but unless you actively involve me in your life, I'd rather stay out of it. LIfe's too short for your BS. I'm going boarding.
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