Saturday is the 10th anniversary of one of my greatest life achievements. Why, then, do I feel less than thrilled about it?

I can’t in good faith defend Nate’s actions throughout Season 2. But I will defend his humanity and argue that he’s more realistic and relatable than just about any other Ted Lasso character.

That’s the way I thought sports was supposed to be. It’s like marriage. Once you choose your team, they’re yours, for better or for worse, for sicker or for poorer, til death do you part. What I didn’t realize was: That didn’t have to be the case.

How much better would I face things now if I knew that, all along, things weren’t actually OK? That my parents really didn’t know how anything was going to play out? That we just had to deal with uncertainty as it breathes?

These days, as the parent of a toddler, getting up early is par for the course. Being late April, the sun was a bit of a later riser than it was on those summer vacations. I could simply set an alarm for 6:15 a.m., roll out of bed, pull on a sweater and take my balcony seat for the day’s show.

It’s terrifying to realize that the “dream job” you’d been working toward for a long time isn’t. Especially when you have a child. Especially when you’re staring down your 38th birthday.

When I look back on this lost year, I’ll of course remember the headlines — but also the mishmash of simple, sometimes unexpected things that have held me together.

There’s a fascinating story about the days before my grandmother passed that I won’t go into, partly because I don’t trust my memory about it. But I *do* remember vividly the limo ride to New York.

Six months ago, I grudgingly took my son to pediatric physical therapy. Now, I’m devastated it’s over.

Sitting here more than five hours after the insurrection, things haven’t all burned down — yet. But it’s hard to feel like they haven’t. The “peaceful transfer of power,” gone — up in proverbial smoke.

Men in Blazers was something dependable in a world gone unmoored, providing an escape from our anxiety-ridden existence and even helping prod our stubborn toddler into walking.

Many moons ago, when I served as editor of The Magazine of Elon, I had an antagonistic approach to fundraising. I didn’t like it. My readers didn’t like it. It took the better part of a decade and five years of working with some of the most professional gift officers you’ll ever meet to change my mind.

I’m thinking of this name change as the start of a new season. It’s a clean slate, a chance for something good to happen — even if Snyder does still own the team.

As many of us stare down the barrel of several weeks at home and *gasp* no sports to distract us, podcasts might be a welcome diversion from anxiety and boredom. Here are a few I love.(Yes, this didn't age well)

I don’t want to give annoying advice, but because my little one will be nine months old in two weeks and the experience is pretty fresh in my mind, I have some that might be useful. Here’s what I wish someone had told me.

Grabbing a sliver of open bar space, I held my wallet at an angle I hoped would catch the bartender’s attention quickly. As I waited, I looked to my right, then to my left. And I realized I was standing next to Stuart Scott.

I can’t help feeling like I’m departing a gorgeous utopian island I’ll never be allowed to return to.

I don’t know why this feeling happened or how long it will last. But for the first time in my life, I’m pretty much at peace with my body.