Mao Mao Speaks

 Candy got her name from the fact that her mom craved orange skittles during her entire pregnancy. Just the orange ones. So it could be a coincidence or it could be science that Candy is a redhead. She was also really sweet. Maybe not Skittle sweet, but sweet enough. And that's the thing about names. They are important. Vital. A name can determine who you become. For instance, you don't meet many CEOs named Halo. But step into a yoga studio on a Tuesday at 11 and you may find a guru or two named Halo. It has so much bearing on your path and you don't get to... well at least in the beginning...you don't get to choose. This thought is what got Candy considering the fact that she was in a simulation. This thought got her mind going to places it probably shouldn't have been traveling. This thought was the beginning of Star.  Candy found herself at the beginning (or was it the end) after about 3 joints with her friends on a Friday that started so much like the other Frid

 Hanging from my ankles, neck deep in an ocean of caramel-colored water. Or maybe running through a muddy field in only socks. Perhaps...perhaps it is like being punched in the same eye, once a week. But on different days. Waking up to find that your bed has been stolen and you are late for a flight you forgot you booked. I think that is how I'm feeling. But I'm not sure because, even though it's been a month, it is still too new. And I'm not processing. Not like I should be. But what else is new.  Some days are better than others. All my friends said that is to be expected. I didn't listen but they told me. I recognize I'm a strange brew. Pinch of arrogance, 3 cups of self-doubt, a tablespoon of comedy. Let that sit on the counter until it smells like fermenting lemons. Once you're ready, forget about it for a week then come back to a surprise. It's a boy.  Enough allegory. I'm starting to realize I don't know who I am. I know who I used to be.

 Our world shapes us as much as we shape our world.  That is something I can't stop thinking about as I process the wild and wonderful miles I spent with some of my best friends this past weekend (November 7th-8th 2020).   It strikes me that, like so much in life, the pursuit of achieving dreams is a journey best traveled with good company.   Successfully surrounding yourself with supportive, talented, thoughtful, and dedicated people is the cornerstone of growth.   And like I've written before in reference to other races, this race didn't begin on the 7th, it started sometime in April.  Last year, after running the Bryce Canyon 100 , I decided that I would race locally this year.  Focus on local races and training on local trails.   Give back to the people and places that have shaped me.   50ks and 50 milers would be easy to find.  I knew I really wanted to run Brett Sherfy's Gateway 50k and (crew schedule permitting) take another crack at Eastern Divide 50k.   But the

This week has been, at its very best, a blur.  A whirlwind of pain, sickness mixed with moments of inexpressible joy.   I know what you're thinking; of course it has been, you ran 100 miles last Friday/Saturday dummy.   And yes that has something to do with the highs and lows.  Amid all of the "normal" things that come with a post 100 miles effort I have also fought a stomach flu and traveled to Tampa for meetings.   So my mind is mush, my soul is Swiss cheese and I'm finding ways to smile through it all.   With that in mind, be kind in your judgments on my rambling about what Bryce means to me and what I learned.  Sums up post run Sean - Photo Cred to Julia The idea of running Bryce came by way of Brett Sherfy.  During one of our group runs he mentioned the race as a possible 100 for the crew.  This conversation was in 2016 and I have written in the past about the inspiration that conversation has provided.  Bryce  has been on my mind ever since.  Some days

"When you say you saw her, I assume you mean in the literal sense?"  I asked Fenny half hoping he had, in fact, seen her and half hoping it was the figment of an overactive imagination.  Ever since we found our way out of the quagmire that started so many years ago Fenny had been known for letting his fears override his grip on reality.  He would often swear we were being followed.  Stalked.  Fenny answered "As sure as I am sitting here.  She saw me too.  I know it, I just know it.  What are we going to do?  Christ! She saw me.. she did...".  I interrupted here and spoke to Fenny in a quiet yet firm tone, "Ok.  If she did, let's say she did see you.  What?  Did you she follow you? Is she outside the window?  No?   Of course she isn't.  She isn't that dumb."  I think I was trying to calm us both down.  Storms follow some people.  Some people create the storms.   But Elle was the storm.  And she didn't care who got caught in her destruct

"I saw her."  Fenny wasn't known for flat subtlety.  Over the years the man had honed his skill for turning mundane interactions into carnival level productions .  But as he said those words with the dark tone of unfettered fear, I couldn't help but smirk.  And this was in spite of the fact that I knew exactly who he was talking about. _________________________________________________________________________________ Not long after our time in the clink for our minor vegetation infraction, Fenny and I decided that we still needed to see the Smokys.   By time in the clink I am talking the weekend.   We paid our fine and we were on our way.  Record besmirched but on our way.  Prison can do strange things to a person.  Make you really appreciate the finer things.  For me, it made me really want a burger from any one of the finer establishments that dot the highways across our great nation.  Thee burger of choice was marketed by employing the red headed daughter of it