One Year

A year ago today, I sat down in the Space Shuttle motion-based simulator. I could not get all five safety belts fastened because of my size.

That day, I decided I had to change direction and change dramatically. That was a once in a lifetime opportunity, and even though the sim continued with the one belt undone, I was shaken to the very core of my being. I was embarrassed, badly.

I will never forget the feeling as we hit T-minus zero for the first time. For those interested, here's the video:



The grin I had when we "lifted off" here did not last that day. As I walked out of the simulator that afternoon, I knew I had to change the way I do things. I've lost 64 pounds since that moment and have a goal to hit an even 100. I don't know why, exactly, but 100 just seems like a nice, round number. A hundred pounds. Until then, though, I can look back on the last 12 months and know that I've come a long way.

A year ago today, I could not walk from here to there with any kind of endurance. There's a half-mile track behind our local Y, and I couldn't walk two laps without my back killing me and my legs all but going numb.

Today, I can alternately walk and run a 5k race.

A year ago today, I wore pants there were a size 52.

Today, I'm wearing a 46 and they're loose.

A year ago today, I hated to take my shirt off to swim.

Today, I still ain't crazy about it. David Hasselhoff at the beach, I'm not. There's a six pack under there somewhere, but it hasn't quite popped out yet. I've still got a beer barrel for a belly, but it's now a 20-gallon drum as opposed to a 55.

A year ago today, I gave no thought whatsoever to what I eat.

Today, I make choices for virtually meal. I'm not on any kind of diet, and I don't want to be. I just don't want to undone what I've been able to accomplish.

A year ago, I ate so fast I didn't realize just how good some things taste.

Today, I'll swipe one of Adam's Bojangles French fries and savor every second of it. That's enough. Just one French fry. Maybe two.

A year ago, I weighed well over 300 pounds.

Today, I do not.

In Memory and Honor of ...

I participated in my third 5k this morning. I was able to finish in 42:38, five minutes faster than my previous best time. 

Jog a little bit. C'mon ... give it a shot.

It's sooooo hot. Concentrate.

This is for you, Shawn Kingrea. Your church organized this race in your honor. Your son, Ty, was on a baseball team I helped coach a couple of years ago. Ty, I know what it's like to have a momma with breast cancer, so this is for you, too.

There's Shawn. She's helping hand out water to the runners, cheering them on. Don't choke up.

Those folks up ahead ... you can catch 'em.

Darn it, my knee hurts. Shake it off. Still hurts. Shake it off. Just. Keep. Going.

I miss my mom so much. She was just 47 when she died, and I'm 43 now. This is for you, Mom. Keep going. How much further is it?

That huge German Shepherd ... it's chained up, right?!? I'm jogging some, but I can't run THAT fast.

Man, the playlist that I put together for this event is awesome. I love this song. Third Day ... Jeremy Camp ... Chris Tomlin. Gotta go old school, too. How about something from Stryper's latest? Kick it, boy ... kick it.

Jog downhill as much as possible, walk uphill. That might be a cop out, but this time last year, I wouldn't have been able to do either.

Cancer. It cost me my mom. My dad, too. He was 65, had lung cancer and never smoked a day in his life. Lost my mom AND dad to cancer. Is there something like that in my own future? Please, dear God, no ...

Five years ago, Jeanie was diagnosed with thyroid cancer. Take me, do whatever ... not Jeanie. Not Richard. Not Adam. Not Jesse. She's now cancer free. Thank you, Lord, for your blessings.

The winner of this race is already home, kicked back and relaxing. That's fine. That was their race, this is mine.

Remember the last 5k? It was 41 degrees and raining. I was soaked to the skin. I am this time, too. There's only about a 45-degree difference.

No way. There's the finish line. I can see it. Finish strong. Run. They're waiting on you. They're cheering. I have fought the good fight ... I have finished the race.

No. 42

We're at T-minus five days and counting until the end of school for summer, but Jesse has already had his last piano lesson until it starts back up again in August.

Bless her heart, Jesse's piano teacher told him to practice pieces that he knows best during the break. So what's he know best? Jingle Bells, of course. It may be in the mid-90s outside, but it's Christmas at our house ... over ... and over ... and over ... and over ... and over ... and over again.

You know Jeff Dunham's Achmed the Dead Terrorist character, and his line, "Shut up ... I keeeeeel you?!?" Yeah, that's pretty much the conversation I'm going to have with Jesse's piano teacher the next time I see her. 

No. 41

Adam's teacher replied on Facebook to the most recent Parenting Observation that she loooooves Adam, and he saw it. Today, he marched into class and announced to her that if she ever wanted to comment on another post about him, that she should keep it to herself.

No. 40

We had Chinese food for lunch today, and sometimes, it does not agree with Adam. So after a lengthy trip to the facilities, he plops back down at the table, pats his belly and says in the best Yoda voice yet, "A great disturbance in the bathroom, there was."

No. 39

Adam tried to kill me tonight. Throwing him some batting practice tonight from just a few feet away, he hit me in the wrist. Then ... he lasered another line drive that hit me square on the forehead. I went down HARD, and still don't feel super swift. Anybody know what dain bramage feels like?!?

No. 37

Jesse has lost his glasses ... I love my son ... I love my son ... I love my son ... can't find the darn things anywhere ... I love my son ... I love my son ... I love my son ... why am I looking in the freezer?!? ... I love my son ... I love my son ... Jeanie's fussin' ... I love my wife AND my son ... I love my wife AND my son ...