Sunday, February 22, 2009
The Dangers of Health Food
On Friday during my lunchbreak, I almost got run over and killed by a little ol' granny in a big ol' Buick -- as I was walking into the health food store.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Old Friends I've Lost in 2009 (NOT a sad story)
At the beginning of a new year, we tend to take stock of the previous year and consider what changes we need to make. I did some serious taking stock late in 2008 and early in 2009 and came to a sobering conclusion.
I knew if I was going to live a long, healthy and prosperous life, I had some friends who could no longer be a part of it. From then on. For the rest of my life. “For the rest of my life” is what was so staggering for me.
For almost four years, I had kept them out of my life. And, really, I’d never been better, and felt better. Based on my test results, my doctor said I was his most-healthy patient. (OK, so he’s got a lot of elderly patients.) Life was so good with these old friends out of my life.
Then, early in 2008, I decided that I was strong enough to let them back in. I was sure that if I just limited our time together, I could still have a good life – maybe even an enhanced life. Very shortly, I knew I’d made a mistake. By mid-year, it was too late – they were woven through my entire life. I didn’t get my annual physical in 2008 because I was afraid of the results.
So, now it’s a new year, and it’s time for a clean break from these old friends. Let me tell you just a bit about them.
Ben and Jerry and I spent a lot of time together in 2008. At first it was just on Friday nights. Then, on an occasional weeknight. Then, whenever they were in the house, we partied.
Famous Amos and Little Debbie went to work with me – old faithfuls. They got me through many afternoon lulls. You might get a mealy, pithy orange, but you can always count on Little Debbie to be good.
Milton Hershey and I celebrated a productive workday, a good grade report, the end of an exhausting day. Hershey and I also got through some tough times together.
Duncan (Hines) and I spent many evenings together, making cookies. Duncan taught me how to “love” with food. I know now that what Duncan and I were doing wasn’t “love” – baking cookies for family and friends who shouldn’t be eating them in the first place.
The turning point for me in 2008 will shock you. I trained for a marathon – and gained 25 pounds. I ran a total of 1450 miles (I log them) – and gained 25 pounds.
Making the decision to eliminate (for the rest of your life) such friends who have been such an integral part of your life is terribly difficult. I think we actually go through Kubler-Ross’s stages of grief – I know I have.
Denial and isolation – denying there has been a loss, withdrawing from social settings. I’ve been there – terrified of, perhaps, a family birthday party where I know my old friends will be, tempting me.
Anger – furious with the one who inflicted the hurt, or at oneself. What kind of a company would make such destructive products? What kind of a weakling am I to be drawn in so?
Bargaining – with God, “If I do this, will you take away my loss?” I promise to run more miles if I can just keep these old friends.
Depression – feeling numb, with anger and sadness underneath. What’s life going to be like without these old friends? Is it even worth it? My family will still love me if I’m fat. (But, I know I won’t love myself.)
Acceptance – finally accepting the reality of the loss. I’m not here, yet, but I hope to be someday.
Maybe you have some friends who are holding you back from the healthy and prosperous life you deserve, friends who need to no longer be a part of your life? There’s no better time than now, at the beginning of a new year, to make a change.
It won’t be easy. But, nothing worthwhile ever is. There’s going to be some grieving. But, you’ve got a network of family and friends, and Nelson pulling for you. You can do it.
Happy new year, friend.
I knew if I was going to live a long, healthy and prosperous life, I had some friends who could no longer be a part of it. From then on. For the rest of my life. “For the rest of my life” is what was so staggering for me.
For almost four years, I had kept them out of my life. And, really, I’d never been better, and felt better. Based on my test results, my doctor said I was his most-healthy patient. (OK, so he’s got a lot of elderly patients.) Life was so good with these old friends out of my life.
Then, early in 2008, I decided that I was strong enough to let them back in. I was sure that if I just limited our time together, I could still have a good life – maybe even an enhanced life. Very shortly, I knew I’d made a mistake. By mid-year, it was too late – they were woven through my entire life. I didn’t get my annual physical in 2008 because I was afraid of the results.
So, now it’s a new year, and it’s time for a clean break from these old friends. Let me tell you just a bit about them.
Ben and Jerry and I spent a lot of time together in 2008. At first it was just on Friday nights. Then, on an occasional weeknight. Then, whenever they were in the house, we partied.
Famous Amos and Little Debbie went to work with me – old faithfuls. They got me through many afternoon lulls. You might get a mealy, pithy orange, but you can always count on Little Debbie to be good.
Milton Hershey and I celebrated a productive workday, a good grade report, the end of an exhausting day. Hershey and I also got through some tough times together.
Duncan (Hines) and I spent many evenings together, making cookies. Duncan taught me how to “love” with food. I know now that what Duncan and I were doing wasn’t “love” – baking cookies for family and friends who shouldn’t be eating them in the first place.
The turning point for me in 2008 will shock you. I trained for a marathon – and gained 25 pounds. I ran a total of 1450 miles (I log them) – and gained 25 pounds.
Making the decision to eliminate (for the rest of your life) such friends who have been such an integral part of your life is terribly difficult. I think we actually go through Kubler-Ross’s stages of grief – I know I have.
Denial and isolation – denying there has been a loss, withdrawing from social settings. I’ve been there – terrified of, perhaps, a family birthday party where I know my old friends will be, tempting me.
Anger – furious with the one who inflicted the hurt, or at oneself. What kind of a company would make such destructive products? What kind of a weakling am I to be drawn in so?
Bargaining – with God, “If I do this, will you take away my loss?” I promise to run more miles if I can just keep these old friends.
Depression – feeling numb, with anger and sadness underneath. What’s life going to be like without these old friends? Is it even worth it? My family will still love me if I’m fat. (But, I know I won’t love myself.)
Acceptance – finally accepting the reality of the loss. I’m not here, yet, but I hope to be someday.
Maybe you have some friends who are holding you back from the healthy and prosperous life you deserve, friends who need to no longer be a part of your life? There’s no better time than now, at the beginning of a new year, to make a change.
It won’t be easy. But, nothing worthwhile ever is. There’s going to be some grieving. But, you’ve got a network of family and friends, and Nelson pulling for you. You can do it.
Happy new year, friend.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Gentian Violet
Gentian Violet is an intensely purple powder. It's used for a variety of non-prescription medical purposes, and at one time was used to make the purple dye they stamped prices on canned goods with at the grocery store. (Anyone old enough to remember that?)
My old boss kept Gentian Violet around because he was an amateur plumber and would flush a teaspoon down the toilet from time to time when he thought he might have a leak, and then go look to see if purple water came up anywhere.
He once put a little bit in his pool, and turned the whole thing purple (much to his wife's dismay.) Gentian Violet is powerfully purple -- get a speck or two on your fingers, and you've got purple fingers for at least a week. My old boss was always coming to work with purple blotches in various places.
One year at Christmastime, he'd go out in the morning to get the paper, and bulbs from the Christmas lights he'd lined the sidewalk with would be missing. He'd replace them, and the next morning there'd be more gone. Gentian Violet, he thought.
That evening, he went out with a popsicle stick and put just a tiny bit of Gentian Violet on each bulb. The next morning he went out to get his paper, and then walked down to the school bus stop. Three little boys stood there with purple fingers, and blotches of purple on their cheeks, noses and foreheads (and Lord knows where else).
The bulbs stopped disappearing. He never ratted them out. Just seeing that sight at the bus stop was entertaining enough.
My old boss kept Gentian Violet around because he was an amateur plumber and would flush a teaspoon down the toilet from time to time when he thought he might have a leak, and then go look to see if purple water came up anywhere.
He once put a little bit in his pool, and turned the whole thing purple (much to his wife's dismay.) Gentian Violet is powerfully purple -- get a speck or two on your fingers, and you've got purple fingers for at least a week. My old boss was always coming to work with purple blotches in various places.
One year at Christmastime, he'd go out in the morning to get the paper, and bulbs from the Christmas lights he'd lined the sidewalk with would be missing. He'd replace them, and the next morning there'd be more gone. Gentian Violet, he thought.
That evening, he went out with a popsicle stick and put just a tiny bit of Gentian Violet on each bulb. The next morning he went out to get his paper, and then walked down to the school bus stop. Three little boys stood there with purple fingers, and blotches of purple on their cheeks, noses and foreheads (and Lord knows where else).
The bulbs stopped disappearing. He never ratted them out. Just seeing that sight at the bus stop was entertaining enough.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Diversity - A Different Topic
This column is about diversity. Now there’s a different topic.
What does a white guy know about diversity? Well, I’ve learned a lot in facilitating multiple workshops on diversity awareness. I haven’t learned in the facilitating, but in the listening to people pouring their hearts out. I’ve thus become a student of diversity.
I’ve watched tears well up (mine, mostly) while participants described instances where salespeople stood close by – not to offer assistance, but to watch and make sure nothing gets stolen. Or, about having a flat tire on a country road and fearing for their life, for darkness to fall. What’s that like?
Garland is a diverse community. We’ve got it all. So what? What’s important is not having diversity, but recognizing diversity, valuing diversity, celebrating diversity, leveraging diversity.
My wife and I worked the Care Van last night at the McDonald’s on Walnut and Garland Road. The Care Van (there are multiple) rolls out to various locations around the state offering free immunizations to kids. They work with the local schools to set up clinics for those students needing their shots to stay in school. Blue Cross and Blue Shield of Texas picks up all the administrative costs – Texans’ donations go directly to pay for the immunizations. Fill out a few forms (English on one side, Spanish the other), bring your child’s shot records, and get in line for free shots – and a sticker for a free McDonald’s ice cream cone afterwards.
What a diverse group there was. Hispanics, Blacks, Asians, East Indians, Whites. Children arrived with Mom, with Dad, with Mom and Dad, with Grandma, with big brother and big sister, with Auntie. A snapshot of Garland. All waited for a long time in multiple lines. Care Van volunteers spoke to them in a variety of languages. Totally diverse group, but with the same basic mission – offer these children a brighter, healthier future.
So, why is recognizing, valuing, celebrating, leveraging diversity so important to Garland’s future, and to our country’s future? Because diversity means different ways of thinking. Our city and country are in a financial mess right now, and if we just keep thinking the same way, we’re going to continue to see the same results. What we need is a new way of thinking – and that’s going to come from our diversity. Haven’t you ever had the experience where you said to yourself, “Wow, I’ve never thought about it like that!”?
Our country is in a serious energy crisis. We’re going to need some different thinkers to get us out of this mess. It seems the current thinkers are trying to figure out a way to get our hands on more oil. We need a new way of thinking. Perhaps how to reduce our country's dependence on oil by becoming the world leader in building creative, renewable energy sources. Now, there’s a different thought.
The more diverse our city is, the more diverse our country is, the more diverse the thoughts are going to be. The person who gets us headed down the right path to solving the energy crisis is most-likely not going to look like me, talk like me, dress like me, behave like me, think like me. And, thank goodness for that!
The person whose work ends our insatiable appetite for oil by showing us a new form of energy that’s clean, safe, renewable, and available to all may be one of those people whose body is covered with tattoos and piercings. Or, perhaps a first-generation American. Let’s make that person American of the Decade, and teach our children to think like her, and smile when we see others on the street who look like her. After all, she’ll be the one who helped turn our country back into the land of hope and promise.
We must understand (before we dig in our heals) that we are all different – backgrounds, education, friendships, religion, community, life experiences. So, we’re not all going to think alike. And, not only is that OK that we’re not going to think alike, the future of our country depends on it.
What does a white guy know about diversity? Well, I’ve learned a lot in facilitating multiple workshops on diversity awareness. I haven’t learned in the facilitating, but in the listening to people pouring their hearts out. I’ve thus become a student of diversity.
I’ve watched tears well up (mine, mostly) while participants described instances where salespeople stood close by – not to offer assistance, but to watch and make sure nothing gets stolen. Or, about having a flat tire on a country road and fearing for their life, for darkness to fall. What’s that like?
Garland is a diverse community. We’ve got it all. So what? What’s important is not having diversity, but recognizing diversity, valuing diversity, celebrating diversity, leveraging diversity.
My wife and I worked the Care Van last night at the McDonald’s on Walnut and Garland Road. The Care Van (there are multiple) rolls out to various locations around the state offering free immunizations to kids. They work with the local schools to set up clinics for those students needing their shots to stay in school. Blue Cross and Blue Shield of Texas picks up all the administrative costs – Texans’ donations go directly to pay for the immunizations. Fill out a few forms (English on one side, Spanish the other), bring your child’s shot records, and get in line for free shots – and a sticker for a free McDonald’s ice cream cone afterwards.
What a diverse group there was. Hispanics, Blacks, Asians, East Indians, Whites. Children arrived with Mom, with Dad, with Mom and Dad, with Grandma, with big brother and big sister, with Auntie. A snapshot of Garland. All waited for a long time in multiple lines. Care Van volunteers spoke to them in a variety of languages. Totally diverse group, but with the same basic mission – offer these children a brighter, healthier future.
So, why is recognizing, valuing, celebrating, leveraging diversity so important to Garland’s future, and to our country’s future? Because diversity means different ways of thinking. Our city and country are in a financial mess right now, and if we just keep thinking the same way, we’re going to continue to see the same results. What we need is a new way of thinking – and that’s going to come from our diversity. Haven’t you ever had the experience where you said to yourself, “Wow, I’ve never thought about it like that!”?
Our country is in a serious energy crisis. We’re going to need some different thinkers to get us out of this mess. It seems the current thinkers are trying to figure out a way to get our hands on more oil. We need a new way of thinking. Perhaps how to reduce our country's dependence on oil by becoming the world leader in building creative, renewable energy sources. Now, there’s a different thought.
The more diverse our city is, the more diverse our country is, the more diverse the thoughts are going to be. The person who gets us headed down the right path to solving the energy crisis is most-likely not going to look like me, talk like me, dress like me, behave like me, think like me. And, thank goodness for that!
The person whose work ends our insatiable appetite for oil by showing us a new form of energy that’s clean, safe, renewable, and available to all may be one of those people whose body is covered with tattoos and piercings. Or, perhaps a first-generation American. Let’s make that person American of the Decade, and teach our children to think like her, and smile when we see others on the street who look like her. After all, she’ll be the one who helped turn our country back into the land of hope and promise.
We must understand (before we dig in our heals) that we are all different – backgrounds, education, friendships, religion, community, life experiences. So, we’re not all going to think alike. And, not only is that OK that we’re not going to think alike, the future of our country depends on it.
Thursday, October 9, 2008
#1 Son-in-Law
Looks like I'm the #1 SIL (son-in-law) again since my brother-in-law blew off (he had to "work") my father-in-law's (Pops') birthday dinner last night.
Perhaps being the #1 SIL isn't such a good thing. The #2 SIL got a Troy Aikman-signed football a couple of Father's Days ago. The #1 SIL got a large plastic statue of St. Francis for his garden.
Just looking out for my eternal salvation, and for a bountiful harvest, I guess.
God bless us, every one!
Perhaps being the #1 SIL isn't such a good thing. The #2 SIL got a Troy Aikman-signed football a couple of Father's Days ago. The #1 SIL got a large plastic statue of St. Francis for his garden.
Just looking out for my eternal salvation, and for a bountiful harvest, I guess.
God bless us, every one!
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Not Appropriate for the Newspaper: A Love Letter
I wrote the following for my regular newspaper column, but it was deemed not appropriate for the Community Voices section. I think it's a message everyone needs to hear, however. So, here it is...
This is a love letter to you. Haven’t gotten one of those in awhile?
Dr. Dee is one of my biggest fans at work. She never fails to offer me support and encouragement. I once overheard her tell another medical director that if Nelson was working on it she was confident that it would be done well.
I once sent Dr. Dee a note thanking her for being such a positive influence on me. She sent me an e-mail thanking me for my note, and saying she had tucked it into her “treasure chest.” She told me she has a little “treasure chest” where she keeps really nice things – notes, pictures, clippings, trinkets – things that she knows will make her smile when she sees them.
When she is having a rough day or struggling, Dr. Dee opens her “treasure chest,” goes through it, and is inspired and renewed again. My note made Dr. Dee’s “treasure chest” – how special is that?
Do you have a “treasure chest” of really nice things? Things you know will make you smile at first glance? Things that will inspire and renew you when you’re having a rough day?
Maybe you create your “treasure chest” today and clip this column and tuck it in. Uh oh. Now I have to write something worthy of that.
You may not have been reminded of it lately, but you are absolutely special. There is no other person in the world just like you. Never has been. Never will be. You’re totally unique. One of a kind for all of eternity. Imagine that.
And, because you are so unique, you have a unique purpose for being on this earth. You weren’t a mistake. You are here for a reason. All of your skills, and knowledge, and talents, and creativity are a gift to you to be used for a specific purpose. (Let me give you a hint – your purpose involves doing something for someone else.)
Here’s something else you should know. Wherever you are, whatever you are doing right now – God loves you. God’s love is unconditional. It’s not based on anything you’ve done or haven’t done. It’s not a bonus for work well done. It just is. God made you and said, “Wow, this is really good.” So, there you have it.
One more thing. Having a bad hair day? Less than perfect today? God thinks you are stunningly beautiful. Sheer perfection. Whatever you are, whoever you are, is exactly perfect for what God has in store for you, for your unique purpose. When you look in the mirror, you may not like what you see. God looks at you and beams.
So, there’s three things to put in your “treasure chest” – you are totally unique and thus incredibly special, and on this earth for a specific purpose; God loves you unconditionally; and in God’s eyes you are absolutely beautiful.
Here’s what I think God wants you to do with that knowledge: take one day a week and rest in it. Consider it enough for one day. A sabbath day. God has even set the example for you, remember?
One day a week just stop. And rest. Without guilt or apology. If for no other reason than because God has given you the OK – actually the command – to do it. Not because you have completed all of your tasks, but right in the middle of all of your tasks. Stop for one day a week and rest in the security that those three things (that you just put in your new “treasure chest”) are enough.
A day to rest. To celebrate. To feast. To recover. To renew. To refresh. To do only those things you want to do. Take a day of rest one day a week, and you’ll be amazed at how much better the other six become.
Start a “treasure chest.” Tuck those three truths in it, and also deep into your heart. And take one day a week to rest in those truths, to refresh and renew. You’ll be a better person for it.
Someone who is so unique and special, and loved, and beautiful deserves a love letter every now and then, right?
This is a love letter to you. Haven’t gotten one of those in awhile?
Dr. Dee is one of my biggest fans at work. She never fails to offer me support and encouragement. I once overheard her tell another medical director that if Nelson was working on it she was confident that it would be done well.
I once sent Dr. Dee a note thanking her for being such a positive influence on me. She sent me an e-mail thanking me for my note, and saying she had tucked it into her “treasure chest.” She told me she has a little “treasure chest” where she keeps really nice things – notes, pictures, clippings, trinkets – things that she knows will make her smile when she sees them.
When she is having a rough day or struggling, Dr. Dee opens her “treasure chest,” goes through it, and is inspired and renewed again. My note made Dr. Dee’s “treasure chest” – how special is that?
Do you have a “treasure chest” of really nice things? Things you know will make you smile at first glance? Things that will inspire and renew you when you’re having a rough day?
Maybe you create your “treasure chest” today and clip this column and tuck it in. Uh oh. Now I have to write something worthy of that.
You may not have been reminded of it lately, but you are absolutely special. There is no other person in the world just like you. Never has been. Never will be. You’re totally unique. One of a kind for all of eternity. Imagine that.
And, because you are so unique, you have a unique purpose for being on this earth. You weren’t a mistake. You are here for a reason. All of your skills, and knowledge, and talents, and creativity are a gift to you to be used for a specific purpose. (Let me give you a hint – your purpose involves doing something for someone else.)
Here’s something else you should know. Wherever you are, whatever you are doing right now – God loves you. God’s love is unconditional. It’s not based on anything you’ve done or haven’t done. It’s not a bonus for work well done. It just is. God made you and said, “Wow, this is really good.” So, there you have it.
One more thing. Having a bad hair day? Less than perfect today? God thinks you are stunningly beautiful. Sheer perfection. Whatever you are, whoever you are, is exactly perfect for what God has in store for you, for your unique purpose. When you look in the mirror, you may not like what you see. God looks at you and beams.
So, there’s three things to put in your “treasure chest” – you are totally unique and thus incredibly special, and on this earth for a specific purpose; God loves you unconditionally; and in God’s eyes you are absolutely beautiful.
Here’s what I think God wants you to do with that knowledge: take one day a week and rest in it. Consider it enough for one day. A sabbath day. God has even set the example for you, remember?
One day a week just stop. And rest. Without guilt or apology. If for no other reason than because God has given you the OK – actually the command – to do it. Not because you have completed all of your tasks, but right in the middle of all of your tasks. Stop for one day a week and rest in the security that those three things (that you just put in your new “treasure chest”) are enough.
A day to rest. To celebrate. To feast. To recover. To renew. To refresh. To do only those things you want to do. Take a day of rest one day a week, and you’ll be amazed at how much better the other six become.
Start a “treasure chest.” Tuck those three truths in it, and also deep into your heart. And take one day a week to rest in those truths, to refresh and renew. You’ll be a better person for it.
Someone who is so unique and special, and loved, and beautiful deserves a love letter every now and then, right?
Monday, August 18, 2008
On the Road to 26.2: Chicago, IL
It's strange that I was out of town 2 weeks out of the last 3. I don't have a traveling job. I despise traveling. I am a creature of habit, and when I get out of my routine, I can barely function. But, last week I was in Chicago again.
I love running in Chicago! I was downtown very close to the harbor -- about 1/2 mile from the nice, soft composite biking/running trail that runs right along the water. Yachts and sailboats, seagulls, Canadian geese, cottontails, and lots of other runners and bikers were my companions. The temperature was near 60 degrees each morning with a light wind. Running heaven.
Near one of the stadiums there is a memorial area for fallen paramedics and firefighters. Huge rectangular stones, I assume memorializing each hero. The stones are spread out, and some in clumps, and it appears are meant to be sat on to stop and reflect and remember.
The landscaping along this trail is amazing. Flowers that have long given up in North Texas are thriving there. Alot of the trail is shady from tall trees. There are several huge yachts -- much bigger than my house, docked along the edge. I left to run at 5:15 a.m., and on a couple of these big boats, someone was up on the deck with a cup of coffee. As I made my turnaround and headed back, the sun was coming up over Lake Michigan.
Have I gushed enough about running in Chicago?
I know it's not truly running heaven because of one thing -- gnats. There were funnel clouds of gnats swirling around most of the lights on the trail. Sometimes you don't see them, and you run into a cloud of them. They're all over your face and neck and arms. They're in your eyes and mouth and nose. (I always bring a washcloth with me to wipe sweat, and gnats.) You wipe and wave and cough and gag and spit -- and the people driving by are thinking, "Man, if that's what running looks like, leave me out of it."
Other than the gnats, Chicago running in August is pure bliss.
One other observation -- everyone is so driven up there. The bikers that race by are totally focused. They don't smile or say good morning -- they just race by like they are trying to catch up with Lance. (Except for the really large black guy who is riding along with his bike helmet, and he is smiling from ear to ear, and he actually greets me like an old friend now that we've seen each other the last 3 mornings.) The runners are the same -- racing along, checking their watches. One man's watch was beeping -- how much fun is that in such a beautiful setting?
There was one delightful red-haired girl on the trail. She alternated running with biking. She was stunningly beautiful. An angel with red hair and rosy cheeks. She also smiled at me one morning, and life was good for the rest of my day.
Have you ever gone out for a run just to experience the joy in moving? That's really what I do every morning. I'm not going to win any races. I don't often establish any PRs. (On Monday, my time was 1:04:07. On Tuesday, my time for the same route was 1:04:06 -- getting faster. On Wednesday, when the red-haired girl smiled at me, my time was 1:02:42. Thursday, I rested. Friday I couldn't wait to do my 12-miler to finish my week.) I finish, and I pretty much enjoy every minute of my runs. If you haven't run that kind of run lately, you might give it a try.
I'm just a plodder. You guys go on ahead.
Run on, friends.
I love running in Chicago! I was downtown very close to the harbor -- about 1/2 mile from the nice, soft composite biking/running trail that runs right along the water. Yachts and sailboats, seagulls, Canadian geese, cottontails, and lots of other runners and bikers were my companions. The temperature was near 60 degrees each morning with a light wind. Running heaven.
Near one of the stadiums there is a memorial area for fallen paramedics and firefighters. Huge rectangular stones, I assume memorializing each hero. The stones are spread out, and some in clumps, and it appears are meant to be sat on to stop and reflect and remember.
The landscaping along this trail is amazing. Flowers that have long given up in North Texas are thriving there. Alot of the trail is shady from tall trees. There are several huge yachts -- much bigger than my house, docked along the edge. I left to run at 5:15 a.m., and on a couple of these big boats, someone was up on the deck with a cup of coffee. As I made my turnaround and headed back, the sun was coming up over Lake Michigan.
Have I gushed enough about running in Chicago?
I know it's not truly running heaven because of one thing -- gnats. There were funnel clouds of gnats swirling around most of the lights on the trail. Sometimes you don't see them, and you run into a cloud of them. They're all over your face and neck and arms. They're in your eyes and mouth and nose. (I always bring a washcloth with me to wipe sweat, and gnats.) You wipe and wave and cough and gag and spit -- and the people driving by are thinking, "Man, if that's what running looks like, leave me out of it."
Other than the gnats, Chicago running in August is pure bliss.
One other observation -- everyone is so driven up there. The bikers that race by are totally focused. They don't smile or say good morning -- they just race by like they are trying to catch up with Lance. (Except for the really large black guy who is riding along with his bike helmet, and he is smiling from ear to ear, and he actually greets me like an old friend now that we've seen each other the last 3 mornings.) The runners are the same -- racing along, checking their watches. One man's watch was beeping -- how much fun is that in such a beautiful setting?
There was one delightful red-haired girl on the trail. She alternated running with biking. She was stunningly beautiful. An angel with red hair and rosy cheeks. She also smiled at me one morning, and life was good for the rest of my day.
Have you ever gone out for a run just to experience the joy in moving? That's really what I do every morning. I'm not going to win any races. I don't often establish any PRs. (On Monday, my time was 1:04:07. On Tuesday, my time for the same route was 1:04:06 -- getting faster. On Wednesday, when the red-haired girl smiled at me, my time was 1:02:42. Thursday, I rested. Friday I couldn't wait to do my 12-miler to finish my week.) I finish, and I pretty much enjoy every minute of my runs. If you haven't run that kind of run lately, you might give it a try.
I'm just a plodder. You guys go on ahead.
Run on, friends.
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