NOTHING NADA ZERO ZILCH
IT BEGINS AT 4:00 A.M. on a Saturday, a throbbing and unceasing pain behind my left temple. I try to go back to sleep but can’t—the second missed clue—and around 6:00 A.M. I face another day of weekend work.
It’s the fall of 2020 and I’m at risk of losing my job at ESPN. Two decades of outworking others—by writing books and hosting a podcast, among other pursuits—and of taking pride in friends saying, “How do you do it all?” has convinced me I must do even more now. I should find solace in all the skills I’ve developed to support my wife, Sonya; our three kids; and my mother-in-law, who moved in when she retired. I don’t.
By midday, I can’t focus and have to lie down. Soon I’m hyperventilating as searing pain spreads to my stomach and then to my fingers and toes, suddenly
