I haven't lost my mind. It's backed up on a disk somewhere.

Only one more week of political ads and punditry. And it looks like game 5 may get finished about the same time.
Turns out Mr. Selig had decided days earlier that no World Series game would be called with less than nine innings played, and that the owners were aware of that. This does not explain why the game was called in the middle of an inning and only after the Rays had tied it up. The only thing that had changed was the score; the conditions were just as miserable as when that inning started. I'm a long way from the ocean but something smells fishy to me.

The NBA season begins tonight. So for the next few days (?) we have MLB, the NFL and the NBA. Plus the final F1 race of the season this weekend. Can it get any better?
(Number Two Son is saying to himself, "Yes; we've also got hockey!" And the rest of us respond with, "And that matters because...?")

I didn't get on the bike until 11:00 this morning but made up for that indulgence by hammering through my hill route, averaging 18.1 mph. The race is four weeks from Thursday but you always take off the two or three days before the event to rest up; no training. So basically I've got one month left to gain at least some proficiency for the swim. The riding is there and the running is coming along OK, but the pool is still the weak link by a wide margin. I expend more energy doing that 400m than I spend on either the run or the ride, and maybe both combined.

Anybody else wishing they'd had a couple of thousand bucks to drop in the stock market a week ago?

My apologies for going back to the training subject, but stick with me; it's a springboard here.
Yesterday when I was running I was thinking about how I run. I started fitness running in my late 20's and attacked it like I do most things. That included reading about how to do it well - everything from diet, to training regimen to technique. It's more than just one foot in front of the other. It should be a smooth heel-toe rhythm, arms at waist level moving in line with the direction of travel - no cross the body motion - shoulders back for good breathing...
So here I am running across Union Hills making sure I'm using good technique when I thought about how children run. No carefully practiced form, just pell-mell across the lawn or the playground with arms flailing and legs carrying them as fast as they'll go.
But the big difference? The runner is almost never smiling; he's usually scowling. That child is typically giggling in pure joy. It's the difference between running and playing.
It's possible, maybe even likely that someone watching me run across Union Hills thinks I bear more resemblance to that child than to a practiced runner. But I'll continue to pay attention to my form, trying to run as efficiently as possible. As much fun as it is to watch a child run, their technique doesn't hold up well much past the swing set.
That said, I found myself thinking about the value of play. About doing something, however awkwardly, just for the pure elan of doing it.
Maybe awkwardly is the key here. Once any activity is practiced, done with careful attention to detail, it's hard for it to be fun. It takes too much concentration. Play is thoughtless.
Which is to say that running or biking - and certainly swimming - can't fill the role of play in my life. And if we we conclude that play is a necessary part of life, regardless of our age, I have to figure out where that play is.

Do you play? If so, what is your play? What do you do with simple childhood joy?