Ever wish you could go back in time and slap yourself? I can. In between my first and second year of college, I languished at my mom’s house like a lump of Jell-O that refused to even wiggle. Three days per week, I lifted weights at a nearby gym. Every evening, I boiled some spaghetti, …
My wife and I cruised down 70 East to meet some of her relatives for brunch at a place called Bacon. I don’t eat pork but I respect a funny name. I also figured the joint would still have plenty of bacon-free options for brunch, an assumption which turned out to be more wishful thinking …
Forty of us ran counterclockwise in a giant circle on the field. My helmet squeezed against my cheekbones. “Sprint!” the coach yelled. The circle sped up like a carnival ride. I tried to sprint but my legs dragged, exhausted. It was late summer and I was about to enter my sophomore year of high school. As …
I yanked open my refrigerator door, anticipating a much-needed wave of cool air to give me relief. It was deep in the summer of 2009 in Boulder, Colorado and I lived in a condo with no air conditioning. What it did have was a weird quirk: when I opened my patio door for a breeze, …
The barbell pressed into my shoulders and spine, choking my trap muscles, waiting for them to quiver and die and for my spine to shred and disintegrate. Like a simple-minded ancestor of the Terminator, it felt no pity or remorse. Gravity pulled it toward the center of the earth, but my body stood in the …
I stared at the phone. My torso felt like an ice box. Maybe I could weasel my way out of this? It was a stupid idea. Nobody wanted to talk to me. I reached for my phone and pressed on the digit buttons. The phone emitted tone after tone like a dying robot. More than …
In the early winter of 2012, I stood in front of my condo building and stared at my parked car. Someone had scrawled on my driver’s side window in burgundy gunk. Vandalism? I lived in Aurora, Colorado, which has a crime problem, but the area felt safe. A neighbor was a meth addict, but the …
I gasped, my throat emitting a sound like when you press your ear to a wall and hear water rushing through pipes. Haauuuh! It was 1:18PM. I was in my bed and my alarm clock had to be wrong. Had to be. Maybe the AM and PM were mixed up? No, the sun shone through …
It only took a few moments before the rumbling began. It was Saturday, the 3rd of October. Since Wednesday, my wife and I had been in California, visiting a client. That night, we ate at a restaurant in downtown Pleasanton. Like many other small towns, they closed traffic to their main street in the evenings …