In Between Days

Late July is a strange time for me. The Video Music Awards loom large on the horizon. A restful week in Nantucket is still six (difficult) weeks away. And the New York City Marathon is much closer than it seems.

After two years in Miami, the VMAs are back in New York this year. Which is good news. Kind of. The change of scenery somehow made the madness and marathon work days tolerable. But the change of scenery also created challenges (connectivity, hardware, personnel) that only contributed to the madness and marathon days. This year (August 31, of course), we’re back at Radio City Music Hall, which is all of four blocks from MTV. It doesn’t feel quite like a full-scale mobilization. Everyone’s a bit more chill. That’s the upside. But that’s also the downside. Without all the hullabaloo around travel and lodging and hardware and real estate, the event is currently lacking any urgency (at least so far as my colleagues). Which is fine… for now. In my experience, though, today’s lack of urgency spells tomorrow’s frenzy.

So I have that to look forward to.

Just thirty-six hours after the VMAs, though, Abbi and I fly to Nantucket. You know all about Nantucket. Our little corner of it is one of the most beautiful, peaceful places on earth. My weekend escapes there have been key in maintaining my sanity. This’ll be the seventh Labor Day Weekend in a row I’ve spent there. It’s usually just my mom and me, plus a couple of family friends (none of whom are my age). This year, though, we’re blowing it out a bit in honor of my 35th birthday. A handful of old friends will be staying with us. They’re going to do the Mr. Rogers Memorial Triathlon with us. I’m gonna play a brief acoustic show (and record it for release), and have a big ole clambake. In fact, I just booked our tickets.

So I have that to look forward to.

And marathon training is in full swing. Abbi and I are doing five miles a morning, plus long runs on weekends. I’ve added planks and “Supermans” to my morning routine of stretching, sit-ups and pull-ups in an attempt to strengthen my core a bit. My appetite’s already increasing. I’ve been getting back into breakfast, and trying to cut down on the beer and ice cream. Because last year was a killer. I was pretty gelatinous after a summer being lazy, and partying with The Nadas. I didn’t resolve to run the NYC Marathon until September. Two months is not enough time. So this year, having never really stopped running, I’m hoping to have a stronger finish.

So I have that to look forward to.

Meantime, though, life proceeds kind of uneventfully. The Philadelphia Triathlon is Sunday. I’m excited for that, and excited to be home for a day or two. Chris and Jen are expecting their second child sometime in the next two weeks. That’s awesome. Chris and I are still chugging along with “Mr. Rogers & Me.” And Buckeye, Chris Abad and my new band, is coming together (we have a set list). But really, all is well, and all is quiet. It’s the calm before the storm. It’s the in between.

It occurs to me, though (as I seek some sort of conclusion here), that the in between is what it’s all about. I had a dog-eared copy of Thoreau’s “Walden Pond” in college (of course), and constantly read and re-read his passage on time. “I endeavor to stand on the edge of two realities,” he wrote, “the future and the past.” Which is, of course, the present. And which is, of course, a pretty good place to be.

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