Not the guy who’s legends I’ve read riveted since I was a kid, but my own left one. I can’t remember the last time I had even a mild injury doing sports. Mostly because I hadn’t been doing sports. Some moderate pain where the achilles attaches to the heal caused myself to almost not be able to walk the next day, but got much better stunningly fast over the week. Now that it seemed well on its way to be healed, some nerve pinching issues quite close to the area arose.
So bottom line, don’t find out the hard way why most everyone stretches!
The kids are just dropped off at nearby overnight camp this week with good counselors and support staff. I wave goodbye, half-celebrating, half-double-checking the supply bag, and suddenly found myself… free(!?). Is this how it’s supposed to feel? Where I just… be. Suddenly time seems more thick, inviting… the possibilities!
So we very quickly took the rare opening and drove up to Healdsburg.
I can’t remember the last time we had this kind of time to ourselves. It’s been an intense year. More accurately, a relentless one. Though to be honest every single year has been like that for the past 12. Might as well draw a line in time, before and after. Anyway, after we drove into town, we made a run to Safeway, parked, and turned our room into a well-stocked lair of snacks and freedom.
The next day we drove down backcountry roads where it seemed like every mile had a new winery gently whispering, why not stop by for a minute? Our first destination, Aesthete, had Adirondack chairs literally a few feet from Dry Creek itself, the sound of water flowing through very refreshing. I’m the designated driver, of course, but I took a sip or two. Just enough to taste what it’s like when ‘sunlight meets water’. Still don’t quite get it but it was superb rest for a couple hours in exchange for their relatively inexpensive bottle. Goats and chickens were nearby too, so if you have kids, this is your place!
By the way, before we’d decided to come up here, I realized it’s been almost a decade since I’ve been up in wine country. Though I should clarify that it’s not Napa. It’s Dry Creek Valley. The gentle wince I received multiple times from our host at the second winery, Gary Farrell, until I realized why, with a smile that looked like it had politely winced hundreds of times before. Wait it actually isn’t Dry Creek Valley, it’s Russian River valley wine region. We’d drove past some boundary on the drive down.
This particular place, sitting on a terrace up on a hill, with great views that doesn’t ask anything of you, a breeze mixed with the sun and shade that guides you to take a nap. For the first time ever we stayed a few hours until closing, as they had open reservations, and strategically ordering something from time to time. Could have relaxed longer if I’m being honest!
The other time, wandering through Healdsburg’s plaza in no particular direction. It’s still the same after last visiting a decade or more ago. Even lacing up for a trail run up the nearby ridge well, a “run” in the generous sense. Gasping uphill might be more accurate as I pray my soar knee doesn’t mean anything else. Maybe next time I’ll be able to make it up without sounding like an about to break down steam engine, concerning smile given by the lone passerby notwithstanding.
Coupled with Carmel-by-the-sea, it’s now one of may favorite places to relax. Though extremely expensive!
Do people ever stumble upon something so good for you in every way, you wonder not only why you hadn’t done it much earlier, but all the possibilities if you HAD done it earlier. Grumble.
I’m not exactly sure I’m a trail runner, though it’s said if you’re moving slightly faster than walking, and not on something hard, you’re a trail runner. And I have to say those two words put together sounds so cool. That being said, dor the life of me I cannot understand why my torturous, feeble, and slow attempts to jog up a hill feels so painful and so good afterwards. For most of my 40+ years, I’ve been trying avoid exactly that.
Running was never fun for me, though for a semester I ran regularly through the Arb in the freezing winters of Michigan. I think 70% of that was the music blasting through my ears, a lot of Linkin Park and the like. Same briefly in 07 when I was living in Redwood City. Never got the runners high.
But I’ve been going consistently for a few months now, and my stamina is such that I’m actually alarmed at my breath NOT being ragged. As in, are you ok, my heart, shouldn’t you be beating faster? And now I’m looking for tougher and tougher challenges, the more painful the better. It’s clear its become an escape of its own, somewhere as many runners say, where you can focus on the present.
Either way I really hope this lasts. And thanks for those runners who got me into this by shouting he’s not a hiker, he’s a runner, when I ran past them uphill as they waited for me on a narrow trail.
I wonder how many have seen their loved ones do something quite so amazing you’re in awe. Have you? Have many? Is it just me?
So my wife Kacie is studying hard lately. Really, really hard. I honestly didn’t even know one could study that hard, and I’ve seen many of those types growing up, including my dad. Our house has a few tables, and she simply moves from one to another depending on vacancy. I’ve long since put permanent laptop chargers at every location she studies at.
Often she studies for ten hours straight, weekdays and weekends have no difference. He classes included organic chemistry and statistics, which I hated with my whole heart. Three community college classes. All while raising kids. No breaks, no scrolling, just pure focus. Sorcerers in Marvel Movies can only dream of concentrating that hard. As a sidenote, when I was young I always admired (and had crushes on) girls who were awesome students, and so, uh, jackpot?
I told her the other day, “If you had studied like this in high school, I wouldn’t have been able to marry you.”. I meant it, my high school was one of those intense Korean preps in the infamous Gangnam area where everyone basically fought for survival. And she would’ve been playing at the top with all the other superhuman kids. Without glancing up she goes “Damnit”! Like I said, marriage has really sharpened her sense of humor. Or to be more exact, marriage to me. It’s been lethal for a long time now. And extremely cutting. I love it.
I really wonder where she would be at if she hadn’t studied music composition. Classic music composition to be exact. And then get a masters in abstract music. Not exactly the most marketable degree, yes. I often say hey if only you went into kpop music composition, which invites withering stares as I shy away.
And now here she is, living half her nights in organic chem problem sets. All because she wants to leave something behind for our kids. I honestly don’t know how to end this entry. Other than wow.
Well, if you haven’t noticed, another Father’s Day has come and gone. Hope our dads got a call or a text. If you actually sent a present—wow, thanks for being better than most of us.
I don’t really remember past Father’s Days. Not in any memorable way, at least. Maybe there was dinner or a card from school, but nothing that stuck. And truthfully, I didn’t mind and was thankful for anything I got.
Lately, though, something’s shifted. I find myself wanting… something. I’m not even sure what. I mentioned this to Kacie, exaggerating dramatically, and she just stared at me ‘… He’s doing one of his monologues again…’ She didn’t say anything, but did cook an extra strip of meat that night which made me perfectly happy.
Anyway, maybe you know the feeling. That quiet desire that all this effort—the quiet worrying, the logistics, the loving, the trying, shouldn’t just pass completely unnoticed. Most days I don’t know if I’m doing enough. But I’m sharply aware of the ways I could be doing better. It’s a strange class. No one gives you a grade, but you always feel like know you’re one assignment behind.
Some of us relatively older dads, the ones who’ve weathered the peaks and valleys, health scares, ongoing ER visits, even tragic loss, move differently. Quieter. Slower. Gentler. Watching the newer dads sprinting through the thick of it, in varying degrees of emotion. We don’t say much, but we choose our words carefully, because not much needs to be said. We all understand what’s going on. We remember that situation, that tempo. It’s a long run. Just take care of yourself too. Especially today.
So yes. It’s a special day. And just like we understand Mother’s Day is more special each year, we acknowledge it’s the same for Fathers Day.
Maybe not loudly. But more real, more understanding, a few more nods to each other. A moment to gather around, like at a late-night café, quietly talking and laughing. Or maybe you just lean back, sip a glass of wine or a cold one, and close your eyes, half listening. The “Happy Father’s Day” messages feel a little more heartfelt each year. As if, if not for me, for everyone who’s tried so hard this past year. The ones who don’t respond, well, we get it. Take your time.
So if you’re a dad: heartfelt congrats, and cheers to all your incredible work. You’re doing awesome.
And that reminds me, this whole post is completely about myself. If my dad reads this, he’d be like thats all fine and good son, so where my recognition? I need to call him. Happy Father’s Day to the best dad in the world.
Is it just me or is it typical for folks to get a bit more nostalgic as they age.
Because truth to be told I’ve been reminiscing about my college time recently. Perhaps its the fact that within a few years of graduation life would be throwing me aton of knee buckling curveballs. Or perhaps because they symbolize a cheap and free escape. Either way it makes those memories more softer, and a little more rose tinted.
To be sure, my time in Ann Arbor wasn’t that eventful. Most of it was trying to stay afloat during classes, wondering why these winters never ended, and being alarmed at how the squirrels got as big as dogs. At that time I also didn’t have the tools for proper time management and going from a strictly scheduled high school exp to complete independence was a huge change. So I had to learn some self managing and other tools along the way.
Still, it was a beautiful time with some of the most kind, good, and memorable people I’ve ever met in my life. Though I’m in touch with precious few, and you forget the exact interactions, the echos of warmth shown always resonate in your memories. Perhaps even more as life teaches you what truly matters.
It’s also a testament that large or small, they’re doing far more everlasting and consequential things in the world. So I’m glad to have shared a season or two, thankful at the impact they had on me, continue to have, and I’m sure in many others lives. Even if it shows up a bit later in life.
So for those of us that graduated some time back and witnessed many a good friend, we’re truly lucky even if we didn’t make as much of our time there as we wanted…. Especially since the cost of tuition back then doesn’t seem that bad nowadays… though it still took me such a long time to pay that back…
But hey at least national championships feel absolutely amazing.
Do ones favorite hole in the wall type places make themselves known immediately, or just grow on you? When do you know?
There’s this bagel shop we frequent because we have weekly appointments at the place right next door. It’s the definition of peace. What looks like a menu created in the 70’s, well over 30 difference sandwiches/bagels, and the couple behind the counter look like they’ve married and worked together happily for the last 30 years. To top it off the wall has a map of Silicon Valley… produced in the early 00’s. So only a few years old yes, yes.
Here’s the thing, I don’t even like bagels. Nor bagel sandwiches. I guess I do like cream bagels, but that’s more the cream probably. They’re tough, tasteless, filled with empty carbs, and way too thick to use as a sandwich. Remind me what was the point again with these? It wouldn’t surprise me if whoever invented this felt deeply ashamed disappointed in themselves.
Yet over the course of a year or two… I somehow now find myself starting to look forward to the place. The peaceful predictability, the cozy interior, the outdated decor. The barely comfortable bar seats, that old map on the wall. The box of toy cars…. yes the plastic slightly heavy toy cars every boy played with as a kid. Also the prices are cheap. Like best deal in the bay area cheap. Ten bucks say the couple owns the-
So here I am, munching away happily away at bagel menu number 17c… I think. It’s the classic salmon with cream cheese. It tastes exactly like how I expected it to, the coffee tastes exactly like I expected to, the cheerful aforementioned elderly couple working as usual, always a few people in a line, no doubt enjoying it just like me. Is my subconscious yearning for peace having long dealt with rewarding but also at times chaotic workplace dynamics?
Yeah I guess I’m a regular now and its my favorite place, I just didn’t know it, or want to admit it.
Starting late last year, a few of us dads began meeting for 2.5-hour hikes on Saturday mornings. Not weekly, but spaced just enough such that you felt like going again and it felt like a thing. It checks all the boxes; boosts your mental, social and physical health, it’s invigorating, time commitment doesn’t disrupt family routines, and it’s completely free. Even our snacks are from Costco.
To be sure, it’s not just a random group as most of us are first-generation Korean immigrants and we got to know each other through shared responsibilities and common concerns. The moms connected first; it took significantly longer for the dads to gel. But once it gets going, age doesn’t matter, everyone is exceptionally respectful and happy to connect.
The routine is familiar now. Wake up at 5:50 a.m., briefly contemplate skipping, but get ready anyway because either you’re driving or someone’s on the way to pick you up. Cancelling right then would obviously invite a lot of frowning. Triple-check layers, snacks, water, watch, headlamp if its still dark. By the time you’re standing out on the curb, half-awake but committed, there’s already a quiet satisfaction. Once in the car, conversation flows easily. Still yawning, but the early fog, both literal and mental, lifts quickly when you’re together and the sun is rising.
The hikes themselves are peaceful and surprisingly rich. We walk, we talk. We share perspectives, memories of Seoul, and the small cultural mismatches that come with American life for those relatively new, among many other topics. Sometimes it turns into a casual venting sessions, which honestly, is part of the value as we laugh or commiserate together.
There’s a spot we often reach around the midpoint. A cluster of trees with a small clearing in the middle, perfect for coffee and snacks from Costco. Someone placed logs around strategically for this very purpose. Instant coffee pouches and a thermos of hot water go a long way.
Going on a tangent, it’s interesting Bay Area trails have any cheap food options near the trailhead, like they do across the pacific or in Europe. I still remember uncles back when I was a kid who’d skip the hike entirely, grabbing a seat at the outdoor tables and ordering drinks while the rest of us climbed. “Oh don’t worry about me, you folks go right ahead”. Even young me knew these folks had zero intention of hiking from the start and they looked quite happy too.
Anyway, here you’re lucky if there’s a single picnic bench. Our American hiking culture is very… utilitarian. You’re there to hike hike. There isn’t room for a snack shack that’ll add back up all the calories you just burned.
Still, we’ve made it work splendidly, and somehow the coffee we pour in that quiet grove tastes better than any café could offer. It’s a low-key group of good, warm-hearted, family oriented guys. No expectations, no pressure. Show up if you can, skip it if life gets in the way. Without planning it, we all seem to take turns disappearing for a few weeks and then returning. A 30% participation rate is a win, even one other person is a blessing. Perhaps the only hesitation is when its still quite dark and the trailhead has a sign that says beware of mountain lions(!).
One recurring joke: when someone asks if it was hard to get permission from their wife to join, the usual response is something like “Hard? She practically shoved me out the door. “Please go outside and make some friends. Here’s your snacks.”
If I had to name two of the most amazing people I’ve ever met, excluding my family, it would be my father-in-law and mother-in-law. And if I had to name four, I’d probably include my brother-in-law and his wife. There are some other amazing folks but lets be honest they’ll never read this. In fact, if you’re reading this and you’re not related to me, thanks.
From the very first time I met them, they’ve embodied grace and quiet strength. They don’t judge. They simply encourage, support, and bring peace into any room they enter. I still remember nervously practicing our wedding ceremony and my father-in-law gently saying, “Take good care [of her].”.(…is a simple yes the only acceptable answer to that) And during those chaotic early newborn months, my mother-in-law insisted on sleeping on the couch in our tiny one-bedroom apartment just to help however she could.
Their lives haven’t been easy. My father-in-law served over 15 years in the Korean army before transitioning into civilian life. That discipline and resilience still shine through, though he does get disappointed if he reads news of some discipline issues. I imagine it’s like your team releasing a critical bug onto Production. Today, he manages multiple teams at an architecture firm, and I learn so much just from our conversations—how he sets priorities, when to stay hands-on, when to step back. My mother-in-law remains professionally active and is deeply loved by every family she works with. Their generosity, communication, and steadfastness in the face of adversity continue to humble me.
I hope we’ve tried to show our appreciation over the years, visiting them or road tripping to places like Yosemite and Tahoe, but I know at their core, what they want most is for us to live with joy and peace… and for me to pull my weight when it comes to household chores. Without saying, I know we’re constantly in their prayers, which means a lot.
…Writing all that reminds me I really ought to call them more often. Hopefully I’m not the only son-in-law who procrastinates on that.
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