Cerebrate Good Times

It's been a while. I changed jobs and routines, and I have less free time in general these days. And the whole pandemic thing has really left me feeling weird and unsure what to blog about. But I do have a story to tell. I had been scheduled for a regular colonoscopy as a checkup on my crohn's disease. Originally it was going to be in March, and then the whole world stopped. It got pushed a couple more times until the final date was this last week. I was originally going to go alone, but Katie decided to have us all go as a family. I felt a little irresponsible about having us all go, given the current recommendations against traveling out of state, but it also gave us the chance to bring home an old pickup truck my dad was giving us. They had been trying to get it to us since March. Everything went fine on the trip, and we were heading home. I was in the truck, and Katie was in the van with the kids. We stopped at a gas station near the Utah/Idaho border for a bathroom bre

I've been meaning to post this since the year ended. But it was the best running year I've ever had, at least in some ways. 1,183 miles—a new personal record, or an average of 3.2 miles per day 23 runs of a half marathon or longer 1 marathon 3 pairs of shoes 126,665 calories burned I also walked a little under 400 miles (as exercise, not just daily steps). I think that means the knee surgery was a huge success. Now I just hope it holds up; I know some people have had improvements only for the scar cartilage to wear out after a year or two. But even if this was my last chance to run as much as I want to, it was really nice.

On New Year's Day as it got near bedtime, I noticed something. Or, rather, a lack of something. Cinder had been in the house most of the day, as had the other cats, since it was cold and snowy. But whereas Dortmunder and Vin tend to spend a lot of time napping in closets or under furniture, Cinder always lets us know where he is. He flops down on the floor where we are constantly walking from kitchen to living room, or is curled up on the couch for hours at a time where the kids like to sit. The point is, it's never a mystery where he has gotten himself off to. So we looked around and concluded that he was not in the house after all. I went outside with a flashlight and found kitty prints going toward the neighbors' yard, but they had shoveled a little later than I had, and I couldn't find any more tracks. The next day there were cat prints on our back porch, so during the night he had probably come to the door there wanting to be let in. I went out and followed the