Fit-to-Fat-to-Fit Blog: Cooler weather

Nothing quite like the low 50’s to make you a stronger, faster and more confident runner. This morning, I ran a strong 5.25 miles and hardly broke a sweat until I was 2.5 miles into the run.  The stars were brilliant.  I normally keep my head down (to make sure I don’t trip) but this morning the awe of their brilliance made me stare at them lovingly.  As I felt my heart beat, I felt tiny in the whole scheme of things. But I felt alive, glad to be part of this moment on this small speck of dust we call Earth.  What a powerful run this morning. The cool weather allowed me to think of something larger than myself.

My sons are taking a track class.  They’re learning how to be better runners (both are fairly fast for their age).  It is a fun thing that we can all do together.  I went to the practice with them last night and watched them run relays.  A family that exercises together, stays together.

I read a report yesterday claiming Mississippi will be at 67% obesity by 2030. The Mayans didn’t even predict this kind of calamity. That’s two out of three people in this state being obese. Not overweight. Obese.  Right now it is a shocking one out of three.  I personally think this can be avoided. How do I know — I used to be obese.  And if I can do it, I know so many others in this state can, too. We can’t afford to get any bigger.

So I’m starting with the one person I can control: Me. And then I’m going to use my influence to keep my kids from suffering from being overweight. And if anyone else wants to jump on board, there’s plenty of room.

I wish I were outside right now. The weather is gorgeous. Thanks be to God for cooler weather.

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Wednesday Free-For-All

Good morning! Hope you are enjoying this crisp pre-Autumn day!

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Cards

Forty minutes before my speech, I was standing on the patio enjoying the warm summer evening.  Mobile Bay was to my back and several distinguished doctors from Louisiana and Mississippi were in front of me. A brilliant MD from New Orleans and I started talking about the importance of hope in medicine.  He said, “In my career, I’ve come to the conclusion that you can’t complain about the cards you are dealt. You just have to play them the best you can.”

A warm breeze blew off the water, rustling the leaves of a nearby tree.  While I had heard that basic saying before, something inside of my head clicked. It might have been the moment. It might have been the aura of wisdom given off by the doctor. Whatever it was, nothing had made more sense in a long while.

“In my career, I’ve come to the conclusion that you can’t complain about the cards you are dealt. You just have to play them the best you can.”

My brother-in-law Adam was dealt an incredibly crappy hand of cards.  A couple of years ago, he was diagnosed with Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS) — or more commonly referred to as Lou Gehrig’s Disease.  He and my sister had every right to complain about the cards they had been given.  But Adam played them well.  The man lived the rest of his life with an upbeat attitude and dignity. Sure, he had moments of struggle. But he set an example for everyone who knew him to follow.  He loved my sister. He lived his life to the fullest.  He didn’t whine. He didn’t quit.  When he died, ALS won the hand. But Adam won the game.  He lived his life with complete passion. He played his cards the best that he possibly could.

Ryan Estep was driving his truck when it ran off the road.  When the then-Florence High School student overcorrected, the wheel came off.  The truck ended up in a ditch. Ryan ended up in a wheelchair for life.  In a flash, life dealt Ryan some bad cards. But the 2012 Paralympian fencer, ranked as one of the top in the world, has played those cards very well.  Sure, he could have complained about his situation.  Who wouldn’t be tempted to throw the mother of all pity parties?  But he has been skydiving, traveled around the world and won on the world’s stage. His can-do attitude inspires so many others.  Like he told me, “When I was first paralyzed, I put all my energy into thinking things could go back to the way they were. But within a few days, I realized I was going to have to adapt to my new situation.  And I did.”

Ryan could have complained about the cards he had been dealt.  He chose to win instead.  Adam could have whined that life wasn’t fair — the had every right to. But instead he showed strength that lifted and inspired everyone around him.  Like Lou Gehrig himself, he made sure he let people know that he was the luckiest man alive.

We’ve all been dealt some bad cards lately.  My wife and I were talking this morning about the state of the world and she said, “So many people I know are in pain right now.”  I looked at her and just nodded my head. The Great Recession has been an nasty, uncompassionate dealer.

But as I think about all the strife in the world, I think back to what the wise doctor said: “I’ve come to the conclusion that you can’t complain about the cards you are dealt. You just have to play them the best you can.”

All I have to say about that is this: “Amen, doc. Amen.”

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Fit-to-Fat-to-Fit Blog: Rainout

Let’s be honest and open: I HATE running in the rain. I’ll do it if I HAVE to (a race for instance) but if a quick storm is coming through, I’ll put my running off or just take the day off.  I run five to six days a week. I’m not going back to 250 lbs. if I put off a run until later in the afternoon.

That’s where I am this morning. Copious amounts of rain = no run.  I’ll either run tonight or tomorrow. My old bones, joints and muscles wouldn’t mind a day of rest anyway.

P.S. It just thundered. There is no way in Hades I’m running in a thunderstorm.

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Tuesday Morning Free-For-All

Listen to the rhythm of the falling rain.  Another damp one out there. Just remember that the sun is shining above the clouds. Too bad we’re not above the clouds.

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Fit-to-Fat-to-Fit Blog: Hills

I run early in the morning for one reason: There are very few (if any) cars.   I like to allow my mind to wander. And when your mind wanders, sometimes you don’t see the guy who’s texting behind the wheel. Four in the morning is safer than eight at night.

My mind REALLY wandered this morning. It was focused on some problems for most of my run.  In fact, I was so not “there” that I ran up a couple of steep hills and didn’t even remember running up them.

Which brings me to my point:  Hills are mental.

Let me repeat that: Hills are mental.

Sure, my heart rate and breathing went up.  But my body could handle the physical demands of going up the numerous hills in my neighborhood.  Once I took my brain out of the equation, I hardly even noticed the hills were even there. .

Like my neighborhood, life has lots of hills.  You are physically able to handle them. But are you mentally?  Will you dread going up them or will you attack them with vigor? Will you look up and see and unattainable climb? Or will you break the climb into little pieces and shine all the way to the top?  Will you complain about having them in your path or will you realize they will make you stronger? Hills make or break us.  They define us.

Train your mind as your run up the hills on your running course and in your life. And soon you’ll be making molehills out of mountains.

I ran 5.6 miles this morning.  It was a humid morning but I made it OK.  Thankful for another blessed morning to run.

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Monday Free-For-All

Good morning! We’re starting another week!

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Back cover art for Fried Chicken & Wine

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Meet Pip

Pip is recharging

Late that horrible Saturday night, my family walked into our now-empty house and were crippled by the pain of Banjo the dog’s death. At that moment, we vowed to take some time between dogs. We were emotionally (and financially) drained.

I picked up the phone the next day and called Vicki, the breeder who gave us Banjo (as a rescue). When he died, he was the last Calirose Border Terrier living.  Her dogs were and had produced a distinguished string of champions. Banjo wasn’t one of them. But he was champion when it came to having heart.  I told her the bad news about his death and thanked her profusely for allowing Banjo and Molly (our other Border Terrier who died in November 2010) into our lives.

A few days later, Vicki let us know that a friend of hers, Jim, had a Border Terrier who had a litter of pups.  We told her we’d think about it and would let her know. But then she said, “They were born right about the time Banjo died.”  The coincidence was too much.

Our plans to wait a year between dogs shrank to weeks.  But it wasn’t a bad thing. My wife and I hadn’t gone a day without saying, “We miss Banjo.”

Sometimes you don’t find a dog. Sometimes the dog finds you.

Pip came home yesterday. She’s the smallest of the litter — not a runt, but small. Jim started calling her Pip for Pipsqueak and it stuck. She also was the most alert and first to greet Jim when he came to the box to check on them. She walked into our home like she has been in it for years and loves to play with all three of my boys. She’s pretty much house trained and loves to cuddle with my wife.  She’s mostly black right now, but will lighten up like her mother Twinkee as time goes on. (her father, Rocky, has black fur). Her mother was incredibly smart and by all indications, she is a chip off the old block.  It is going to be a fun ride.

We still miss Banjo.  Like I’ve said so many times before, he was a special dog. But I know Pip will be special, too.  Talking to Jim yesterday, I found out that Pip was born nearly at the same exact moment Banjo died.  I don’t know if any of Banjo’s spirit got into this feisty little girl. But I’d like to believe it did.

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Sunday Free-For-All

Good morning! We drove to pick up Pip yesterday.  She’s a seven-week-old Border Terrier puppy (same breed as Banjo). In fact, she was born at almost the precise moment Banjo died.  She’s full of moxie and energy.

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