I began my last day of 2017 waking up to a glorious open desert surrounded by my own personal detritus, the debris of two weeks camping in the Mojave desert. It was four wheel drive to Chiriaco Pass and the instant rush of Interstate 10, then hurtling through downtown Los Angeles and Hollywood, past iconic exits like Mulholland Drive and Laurel Canyon. I stopped at the ocean on an absolutely crystalline late morning and stuffed myself on organic crème brulee French toast and fruit. Then to San Luis Obispo to give myself Christmas at my favorite running store in the nation. I pulled into my brother’s driveway at 6 pm, in my two-week wrinkles and dirt, and walked into a crab feast and a full house of friends. I woke up with the coyotes and ended the day among good people sharing their wit and stories of travel
I am beginning my first day of 2018 right now, typing this. I woke up in my favorite bed in the world, in my beloved Airstream, and cranked up the Plimsouls from 1983. “A Million Miles Away", an extra strong press of my favorite coffee, a huge slice of pizza, and now I am off to burn calories and sweat my way into the new year. I am ready for whatever.