One afternoon. One team. One goal. One simple but powerful instruction from the supervisor: “Do not sort and pack any food you would not eat yourself.”

A few years back, I rode more miles and climbed more vertical than I had in my entire first decade of cycling. It was an epic year. And yet, I kept pretty quiet about it.

Every Labor Day in New Haven, CT there’s a legendary 20k race - part national championship, part festival, and always unforgettable. Twenty five years ago this weekend, I had it marked as a must run on my marathon training calendar: perfect mileage, on-course support, and a cold beer at the finish.

A well-known comedian is currently touring the country with a show titled “It Ain’t Right.”

I called them tip misers (and maybe a few other things too - but this is a G rated column).

The number 8 has been both kind and cruel to me - my youth baseball number, yes, but also the number of consecutive strikeouts I once had in a single doubleheader.

“When logic and proportion have fallen sloppy dead...”

Growing up, my father was rarely wrong. About anything. He had a quiet certainty and a sharp eye - and even when he was joking, he usually turned out to be right.

He was only 19 when he died.

The summer solstice - our annual signal that summer has officially arrived - is often called “the longest day of the year.”

Something else happened on July 4th.