A Bucket of Pleanty

This morning as I walked the dog in the early morning chill, I realize, once again; I’m a lucky guy. My life is complete in what I have. I have absolutely no needs. There are wants and desires and dreams aplenty, but if I laid my head down for the last time there are no burning regrets. There are many things I would have done differently in an instant replay of life. However, more than the successes found along the way, I believe it is the rocks in the road and outright failure that shape who we are. More important, it is how we handle life’s challenges and move forward; this is the stuff that defines our character.

I have reached a point where I can stare down my bucket list and accept reality. I probably never going to stand on the top of Denali or any of the Himalayan peaks that I’ve read about and dreamed about since I was a child. There’s a good chance I’m not going to complete a full course triathlon; not with these knees. There are many others that I’ve come to terms with. I might not even get to single-hand across the ocean under sail, but I’ll keep that one in the bucket for now.

For all that is in or no longer in my bucket, what I’ve gained in immeasurable. I am married to the love of my life. I have children and grandchildren that complete my purpose. I have a creative outlet through music and the band I play with. I live the dream life on a beautiful boat in a marina with a large live-a-board community. The kind of place where people go out of the way to lend a hand or gather for a potluck ‘just because it’s Tuesday’. I could count my diminishing bucket of dreams, goals, and aspirations as loss, how audacious it seems to lay a blanket of regret over all I have. For the good, the bad, for all that I am; I’m a lucky guy! 

Happy Birthday to Me

I'm fifty-six years old today and I feel awesome.

Three years ago on my birthday, I was pushing three hundred thirty pounds and grossly unhealthy in body and spirit. My life had spiraled out of control and there was a common thread of hopelessness running through virtually every aspect of my life. Enter a leap of faith; a skilled surgeon; an ever faithful and supportive wife; and a second chance! No longer is my life behind me. Today, life’s right here right now and laid out before me.

I ran 9.7 miles last night. The night before I played drums with my band. Each night I get to lie beside the love of my life. Life is good; very, very good.

Happy birthday to me!

I’m a lucky guy!

Big Wind, Big Water

This morning I continue to struggle with injuries, which will keep me off the streets for a few more days. It's hard to be smart and do the right thing. I've got to admit; that's not my home-run swing. I'm a push-thru-the-pain kind of guy. There's a time to tough it out, and there's a time to realize you're causing more damage than good.

This morning at dawn I stood with my face in the wind and a cup of coffee. There's nothing like big wind and big water to make you feel alive and insignificant at the same time. This morning a flush of memories flooded my mind. Sailing Tiny Dancer on the ocean being foremost. The adrenaline; the excitement; the feeling of being small, so very insignificant in the grand scene of things. I think that's a good thing, once in awhile, to find your place.

In a few hours the wind will die down. In a few days I'll lace up my shoes and run. Someday, if it works out, I'll point the bow of a small boat west and complete a single-handed test of self on the ocean. Today, I'm content to be by Michelle's side and rest. Rest, recuperate and allow the winds of rejuvenation to blow through my soul. I have no idea what tomorrow will bring, but I want to be ready!

A Good Plan Actually

To run or not to run, that's the question.

It's really not a question; more of a struggle. Last Wednesday while holding pace on a short steep hill, I felt that familiar and dreaded twinge in my left calf. By the time I got home the twinge was a fully developed burn - same spot, third time in two years. I know the drill: Advil, ice, rest.

I'm a pretty motivated guy. I'll lace up and head out into a cold dark rain. I'll climb on my bike even if I know I've got twenty miles of head-wind. I don't mind a good challenge. What I do mind is sitting around waiting for my leg to get better.

It's cliche; it's trite; but here's what I'm going do; make some lemonade. I can walk and talk and hold hands with my wife as we stroll around the neighborhood. I can get off the skinny tires and roll around the waterfront with Michelle and her bright purple beach cruiser, which, by the way, gets way more admiring comments than my whizzy go fast bike ever does.

Running, cycling and being fit do not define me. They are things I love to do, but life doesn't stall because I can't train for a few days. I think tomorrow morning I'm going to sleep in and have a late breakfast with my wife.

That doesn't sound like a terrible plan, does it?    

Finding Balance

I'm never going to be an elite athlete.

I'm never going to be top ten. I'm just a regular guy trying to juggle too many interests to put in the time and miles that kind of commitment requires. I do enough to stay in shape and hopefully not embarrass myself on event day. There are only twenty-four hours in a day and I need at least seven of those for sleep.

I'm okay if I never stand on the podium. Really, I am. The hardest thing I do isn't motivation to run in the rain. It isn't getting on the bike when I'm still sore from the previous day's workout. The hardest thing I do is trying to find balance. I run. I ride. I play in a band, but the big tie-breaker for me is Michelle. Fitness, athletes, music are all important, but not like my marriage. In the podium of life, that's the first I'm looking for. I'll never never be the perfect husband, but I own it to Michelle to keep trying.

Happy Anniversary, Michelle. It's been twenty-two years of joy, laughter - lots and lots of laughter - and even a few tears, but I'd do it it over in a heartbeat. I love you madly, truly, deeply!



 

Extraordinary Things

The other night I went out and ran 8.5 miles. While I was running through the cold rain on the streets of our home town, Michelle was attending grant presentations for the City of Everett.

I pride myself on endurance. However, there are people in our community willing to do real work for the benefit for those who need it most. They are change-makers. They are affecting lives today, tomorrow and into the future.

As Michelle walked me through the inspirational plans and presentations she heard and her excitement for the ability of normal people to do extraordinary things in the lives of their fellow man, I was humbled.

Eight miles in the rain; any idiot can do that. It takes real dedication, heart and commitment to change the world. That's real endurance!

Rolling Stroll on a Beach Cruiser

My recent illness appears to be behind me. I had a couple of good runs this weekend. Michelle & I had a wonderful date in Seattle and I spent a little time in the yard getting the flower beds ready for Spring.

Did I mention, I am ready for Spring!

I am ready to run in warm rain as opposed to cold rain.

I am ready for it to be light out later that 5:00 PM.

I am ready to ride on a consistent basis rather than when clouds part, I have a sliver of daylight and the planets are aligned in the northern sky.



I'm ready for a rolling stroll around the marina with Michelle on her beach cruiser; especially if we end up on the deck at the Woodfire Grill for dinner.

Heck, I'm even ready to mow the lawn a couple times a week.

Whatever it takes, bring on Spring!