My alarm clock died last night, but I woke up early anyway. Most of the sports that I watch I have been overseas, which means they often happen in the middle of the night. I saw the last set of the men’s final at Wimbledon, I watched a bit of the Tour de France, and I started watching the Fremantle Dockers game on my PVR (they didn’t get off to a good start).
I forgot completely that it was Sunday, and that there was a bike race happening literally outside my front door. This weekend was the Tour de White Rock, but I only remembered that once I got off my couch, walked down to the beach, and saw the last few bikes milling around, long after the race was done. I had reminded myself every time I saw the posters around town, but I didn’t set a reminder.
Life is forever re-learning that I can’t trust my brain.
Still, I got to sit on the beach for an hour or so. It was overcast when I walked down the hill, but then the sun came out, and it was beautiful. A little windy, but that means I got to watch the sailboats, the paddleboarders, and the kids flying kites.
The ocean can’t fix my brain, but I’m happy to let it try.