The coffee isn't brewing anymore, which tells me it's ready, but I've still got another eight ounces of water to down before I feel up to starting my morning.
The words, these words, float around my mind as I try to capture them with a fish net - and I don't fish.
Well, not for fish, but for words and ideas, then yes I'm a sportsman.
The landscape outside is still painted in white, and I can see my breath drift in a light cloud while I wait and wait and wait from the safety of my doorstep for the warmer months to come.
Because with the warmer months comes Spring, and with Spring comes green grass, dry trails, and more importantly - outdoor track season.
On Colorado's Front Range February is typically one of those teaser months where we get hints of the warmth to come, whereas January has more of that unwelcome white stuff that falls from the sky. That stuff that makes driving as enjoyable as walking barefoot over legos or hot coals.
The three-dimensions of my beard attest to the self-imposed hibernation I've taken in response to this white blanket of gloom.
I think they call it snow, but I avoid the word as much as I can - I don't want to give it anymore power than it already holds over me.
It Which Must Not Be Named.
But I think this time around that tease came a month early - January swapped out with February, and now we've got a full-blown winter at our feet, hence the white coat that blinds my eyes when I look out at the field in front of me.
I need to get my eyes checked.
Maybe it's the fact that this February, this one right here, has one more day in it. One more than usual, that is. A Leap Year.
And that means we've got to wait another day before March arrives, which means we've got to wait another day for the track season to arrive.
And to add to the waiting and waiting and waiting, add another week, because this year's track season starts a week later than usual.
Oh, the agony.
When will winter end and track begin?
We've entered that strange gray area between the seasons. That blank page between chapters in books (people still read books, right?) That three second gap between songs on those old school compact disks, four or more if there are scratches, and mine always had scratches (people still listen to CDs, right?) That gentle fade to black at the end of the credits in a movie where you wonder if there are post-credit scene coming or not.
The interzone.
Editor's Note: This whole "season between seasons" talk isn't entirely accurate, it only feels that way since there are a limited number of meets in Colorado during the month of February.
We've actually got two more indoor meets in state next week - the Let's Get REAL Invitational in Colorado Springs, and the Western Colorado University High School Indoor Open in Gunnison. And yes, I'll be on site to cover both meets.
And now we arrive at my point...
All this What Do I Do With My Hands? (let them write!) has led me to question: How many state records could we potentially see fall in the upcoming months?
Those warmer months where the grass is green the trails are dry and the sun beats warm welcome rays on my skin...
Picture that ridiculous gif of Nicholas Cage with his eyes tightly shut while the wind dances with his long, unkempt curls.
Will we see an official Sub 9 3,200 on Colorado soil? (Let's be honest, that happened a year ago...)
Actually, let's rephrase that original question with a particular interest in that boy's 1,600, which is the most probable event to see a new record holder when the the smoke from the starter's gun finally settles...
Will Rich Martinez's insanely old (39 years to be exact), 1,600 state record of 4:10.98 finally go down?
To put a glaring spotlight on how long ago that was, Kim Carnes had the No. 1 single with "Bette Davis Eyes" - a song I hadn't really given a listen to until this morning, Raiders of the Lost Ark was the top grossing movie in the world (saw it), and Shel Silverstein's A Light in the Attic hit the shelves (read it).
I once heard someone refer to Cake's 1996 hit The Distance as "classic rock," so yeah, it's been a while...
The 1,600 Colorado soil record has been threatened quite a bit in recent years (five performances within two seconds over the past four years), and 2020 has an even enough ring to it that it could - or should go down in the coming months.
And while we're talking about the likelihood of this nearly-four-decade-old record falling, there's an extra question involved here...
Will Colorado's best chase that record in the same race? (I'm looking at you, Cole Sprout and Cruz Culpepper.)
While most of Colorado would guess that an assault on the record would come from someone with a one-syllable first name that begins with the letter C, how about Connor Ohlson? Yasin Sado?
Anyone else want to throw their name into the hat? I can definitely think of a few more who could give chase...
With the insane amount of talent that currently exists in the state, it would be incredible to see a collaborative effort in this chase - if the best lined up together, how many All-Time Top 10s could come from one 1,600 race?
Cruz has already run 4:00.10 for a full mile indoors at the Husky Classic in Seattle - an altitude conversion lands him well under 4:10. Likewise, Cole's outdoor 4:04.19 at the Music City Distance Carnival in Nashville (where Cruz was just a half-step behind) should be right under.
In previous years the Demon Invitational in Glenwood Springs has offered pizza as a prize for relay victories, perhaps we could get something similar here (everyone loves pizza, right?) - or a MileSplit Colorado instagram takeover for whoever finishes second, third or fourth, given that the winner is likely to get the record (that should be enough of a prize.)
If we could get the best on the line on the same day, I'm open to negotiations...
Moving off the track...
Will Mia Manson take down Andrea Willis' 13-9 state record in the pole vault? Manson has already been over 13-5 twice in recent weeks, topping out at 13-7.
Two-and-a-quarter more inches and the Monarch senior can do something her brother - Max Manson - came agonizingly close to doing. Max's 17-4 was just shy of his father - Pat Manson's - 17-7.5 state record.
Plus, how cool would it be for a father-daughter duo to hold Colorado state records in the same event?
If - or I should say when - someone from another media outlet decides to write that story, can I claim credit for the idea?
Looking at another potential record breaker: How fast will Gavin Schurr run in the 200 (and how many more times can I creatively utilize "Schurr" into a sentence?
Gavin Schurr Is On Fire, Schurr Enough, Gavin Schurr Dominated The Field...
It schurr is time to see some records fall, and for some coffee.