Many years ago, I was having lunch with my grandmother at her nursing home. At 95, she was starting to physically wear out. But not mentally. Her blue eyes twinkled as brightly as her mind was sharp. We sat and enjoyed the daily lunch mystery meat. I looked around and watched her fellow nursing home residents. Two things stuck out to me. One was that the group was primarily women. And the other was that most of them were almost zombies. Oh sure, they were alive — but weren’t really living. Then a commotion broke the near silence of the room. A couple bounced in wearing tennis outfits and carrying their rackets. They were equally as old, but had a spring in their step. I went over and greeted them and started a conversation. They had been married for nearly 65 years, exercised regularly and still had a passion for a life. As I walked back over to my grandmother (who was talking to my wife), I decided right then and there, I wanted to be that couple when I grew up.
A few years ago, my mom had heart surgery and had some nasty complications from it. As she struggled in ICU, I made another decision. I would take care of the equipment I was given. Right afterwards, a friend challenged me to start running again. I did and entered my 40’s in great shape.
Four years ago I ran a marathon. Then two days later, I had a job status change, took on another job and gained 50 pounds over the next year. I became the person I always said I wouldn’t become and was miserable. At 248 lbs, I was auditioning for my first heart attack. I’d stare at my marathon sticker on my car and feel like the biggest fraud ever.
And I could barely walk up a flight of steps.
On January 4, 2011, I began my Paul Lacoste training. I’d get up at 4 a.m., drive to Jackson State University and would work until I nearly puked four days a week for one hour. Twelve weeks later, I had lost the 50 lbs. As I stood on the scale, I vowed I’d NEVER go back.
And I haven’t.
This morning, I started another 12-weeks of Paul Lacoste training. I plan on losing 20 lbs. and toughening myself mentally. I know that the alarm will rudely wake me up way too early. And I know it will be difficult. I’m not young anymore, after all.
But with soaring healthcare costs and declining coverage, I know it is time to take personal responsibility for my health. I can’t keep shoving cheeseburgers into my pie hole and expect to truly live. When people see me running, they ask me what’s chasing me. I answer truthfully, “obesity, diabetes, lung disease, heart disease and cancer.” A new pair of running shoes is cheaper than a handful of prescriptions.
My road to a better live is through diet, exercise, meditation and discipline. As my cousin likes to say, “live like no one else so you can live like no one else.” But this applies to your health, not wealth. You really can’t have one without the other, can you?
As I was sweating out on Madison Central’s football field this morning, I renewed my vow to be like the couple I met in the nursing home. I will continue to live until the day I die.
Marshall. You are amazing.