On Sundays, I play dodgeball...and this is my team. I know that confession sounds like I'm trying to get over an addiction, but truth, if I had a calendar and was in the business of circling it, I would have circled my last 8 Sundays. That's when Le Dodge A Trois laces up against Los Angeles' finest and fiercest dodgeballers. The first time I went out to play, I thought I was in for a lazy Sunday afternoon romp and found myself in the middle of one of the most competitive and satisfying shit storms I've been in since my days of toeing pitching rubber. Honest. And I get to throw things at people and no one can get hurt - even from a face shot. Amazing. Today was the league final four and unfortunately, we got bounced one game before making it to the finals. Usually, after the game, everyone heads to a bar down the street (our league sponsor), but today, I was too beat. This morning, I woke up at 6 to run a UCLA 5k (5th, 18:40, if you're counting) before I ran off to teach a spin class. So those were two reasons I didn't go to the bar, not counting that I can't eat much pizza or drink beer because I have to get faster. I want to drop weight and chase perfection and this is the process. On Sundays, we make a play, always, to shoot for exhaustion so that we can actually sleep. Tonight, we think we're close.
I'm watching Jurassic Park 3 and I don't think I ever saw it, how awful it is just watching the images go by to the soundtrack in my headphones - trying to check out last night's SNL band, Phoenix, trying to get a full read on them...
Who shot this fucking movie?
I'm waiting for the videos to upload to Vimeo on today's game because one of my sweethearts, Mary, was there to blog about it. I'm waiting to embed them because I think you should see. And I'm reading a book called All My Friends Are Going To Be Strangers because one of my friends told me I must read it because I told him I was writing a book. So far, he's nailed it - perfect prescription for an aspiring and insecure literary titan. Tomorrow, I have to get out another thousand or so words before I have to run because 3.1 miles today, although briskly paced, don't quite equal the 20 miles I was supposed to trot. I wonder if my shoes are broken in yet. I wonder if I'm done with blisters. I wonder how my Monday is going to turn out. It's 9:48 and I feel like that should be early, and I'm wondering where I should be right now.
