Yesterday, the last of April, and my mother's birthday, a race on the beach. Ten K up and down the sand, with the clouds of sunrise reflecting, first gray, before the sun has a chance with them, and then the broad strokes of pink and yellow and orange and purple and gray. And people gathering there on the hard flat surface of the beach near the ocean. Watching the wind whip up the waves and drive the crest fast upwind. Race time and more people and rain and the possibility that Space X will launch something from nearby Cape Canaveral, so the first two miles or more during rests, turning around and glancing back over my shoulder to see if it happened. And it doesn't, so I watch the people on the beach with their phones and cameras aimed toward the cape and if I see someone point or lift their camera or stand up and look, I'll turn around, but I don't. And I'm running so hard and the wind is blowing back at me that I am surprised when I turn around and ...