A football season had come and gone without him, and now as he drifted into a second soul-searching winter, Jim Mora rose at 5:30 on weekday mornings, a man in a hurry to find daylight. Mora had spent nearly his entire adult life walking NFL sidelines. He had taken Atlanta to one game from reaching the Super Bowl. He had coached his hometown Seattle Seahawks. But Mora had never felt content, never felt at home. He had spent his entire career climbing, but toward what?