Run, Rick ... Run

Last week's attempt at running eight miles didn't turn out so well, but I did learn a very important lesson.

Eating a bowl of wonton soup and then trying to run any distance at all ain't a very good combination.

So, today, I tried again and I actually made 8 1/2 miles before I was finally able to stagger back to my car. It was very, very hard and I certainly didn't set any speed records ... but I did it. That's all well and good, but that's not the point of this post.

A funny thing happened as I neared my own personal finish line. Almost back within sight of my car parked at the hospital in town, an older gentleman actually stopped his truck on the side of the road and started running with me. It was honest to goodness like that scene from one of the greatest movies of all time, Forrest Gump, where everybody joins in on Forrest's long-distance journey.

I saw you runnin', and thought I might join you for a spell ...

Thing is, he was telling me to take it easy and not overdo it, so I must've looked a fright, like I was about to keel over or something. Come to think of it, that probably wasn't far from the truth. He told me to take it easy, then got a little winded, turned around and headed back to his truck.

And that was that.

No. 56

Eleven years ago today, Jesse and Adam Houston entered the world. My life was about to change in ways that I could not possibly have imagined.

I'm afraid that they've taught me a lot more than I've taught them. They've taught me the difference between being a father and a daddy. They've taught me that the things I once thought most important aren't really that big a deal after all. They've taught me that no matter how badly things might otherwise seem to be going, there's always hope in a hug.

They've taught me what a farmer must feel like trying to herd chickens. They've taught me the value of teamwork with a spouse ...

If you don't come get these kids and do something with them, I swear I'm gonna pinch their ever-lovin' heads off ...

More than anything else, Adam and Jesse have taught me the meaning of a deep and abiding love that's far beyond description. They are my heart, my reasons for being. Happy birthday, boys.

No. 55

After my run this morning, I got back to the house and Adam greeted me at the door with one of those kinds of wicked giggles that makes it oh-so clear that he's up to something. He handed me a piece of paper that he'd been holding behind his back.

You might want to sit down for this one ...

Yeah ... so ... it's a good thing that he considers me a "super daddy." Past that, I'm pretty much at a loss for words!

You Ain't Gonna Believe This

It's official. Crystal Joyner, Wendy Hayden and Whitney Levens (who approved the whole thing) have lost their ever-lovin' minds.

Yesterday, I got a message on Facebook from Crystal asking if I could meet with her and Wendy at the Y this morning. They had something important they needed to discuss.

Sure, I replied, no problem. What's up?

Nope. Not until we can meet face to face.

OK. I'll be there.

As I finished up my workout this morning, Crystal and Wendy arrived. We headed into Whitney's office and they shut the door. A class is starting in January at the Y to train for a 10k ... and they wanted to know if I would help out as an instructor.

Come again? An instructor of what? This is a sure sign that the earth is about to spin off its axis.

Believe it or not, they were serious. An hour or so later, I still don't know quite what to think. I feel like Moses at the burning bush, unworthy of what I'm being asked to do. I'm certainly no faster than the vast majority of folks. I don't have the endurance of an elite marathon runner. I'm none of those things.

But what I hope to bring to the table is encouragement. Losing weight and trying to get in shape is not easy, but if I can do it, anybody can. If I can walk, walk/run and then run a 5k, anybody can. If I can go after a 10k, anybody can.

The class starts Tuesday, January 17. Be there. If I can do it, you can, too.

This Time Next Year

In twelve hours or so, I'll be finishing up the Mistletoe 5k in Winston-Salem. It'll be the sixth one I've done, and the second that I've run from start to finish. That's the plan, at least.

So what's next? That's a good question, and it's one that I've been thinking a lot about lately. Now, it's time to put it "out there." Once I do that, I can't take it back and I hope that whoever might be reading this won't let me.

Here's the plan ...

First up in the spring will be a 10k, or 6.4 miles. This week, I did five miles in an hour flat. I won't be setting a time goal the first time out ... I'll just want to make it to the finish line.

And then, a year from tomorrow, I plan to run the Mistletoe half marathon. I don't care how long it takes me and at this point, there might even be a little bit of walking involved. But this time next year and if nothing unforeseen takes place, I'm going to do the Mistletoe half ... all 13.1 miles of it.

I can imagine running 13 miles. If I couldn't, I wouldn't be setting it up for myself as a goal. It just seems like a really, really far-fetched dream. Right now, as I sit here tonight, I could not do it. But I'm going to try as hard as I possibly can to make it happen.

Yeah. I know. Do or do not. There is no try!

One Century Mark Down, One To Go

Holding my breath, I stepped on the scales at the doctor's office this morning. Thanksgiving was less than a week ago, and while I didn't gorge myself, I've been surprised too many times to be over confident.

Survey says ... 269.

That means that since June 22, 2010, I have lost 86 pounds. And, from my heaviest weight ever, I am down ... drumroll, please ... 101 pounds!!! I finally hit the century mark, but I still have one more to go. Here's why.

A few years ago, I lost 50 pounds or so on one of my many previous weight loss jags. As always, however, I got discouraged, quit trying and gained all but 15 pounds back. That's where I stood -- or waddled, whichever the case may be -- when I went to Houston last year.

So, yeah, while I've passed the century mark from my heaviest point ever, my goal is to drop 100 pounds since that day in the shuttle simulator. It will happen, sooner rather than later, I hope. I'm giving it my best shot.

Please know that I'm not trying to brag on myself. I'm not. Yes, I'm proud of what I've been able to accomplish, but it's something that I struggle with every single day. It's so hard sometimes, I feel like a fraud. When I got up early this morning, it crossed my mind not to go to the Y. I was too tired and too sore from running yesterday. I went any way.

My point, I guess, is this. If I can do it, anybody can.

No. 54

Let it be here and forevermore known that I might just very well be the greatest father in the world. You ask why? Fine. Here's Exhibit A, my friends.

The boys didn't want to go to bed Friday night, so I made them a deal. As long as they watched "The Andy Griffith Show," they could stay up as late as they wanted. At first, my bright idea went over like a lead balloon. Words can't fully describe their horrified reactions, and when I announced that the shows were in black and white, it really hit the fan.

Still, the deal was on the table. Andy Griffith or bed.

For a little perspective, most of you know that I truly do love TAGS. After Jeanie and I were married, I made it my mission in life to tape every episode. I had it down to a science. I'd check the TV listings a week in advance and set the VCR accordingly. It took more than two years to track down each show, and to this day I can remember the show that completed my set -- it was the one where Opie was conned into selling the miracle salve.

When the DVDs came out in season sets, I bought them -- and when the complete series came out in a mega-collection, I got it, too. I've made the pilgrimmage to the Andy Griffith Museum in nearby Mt. Airy, where I met Betty Lynn, the actress who played Barney's love, Thelma Lou. She's the cats.

I won't even go into the summer I taught Sunday School lessons centered around various episodes of the show, or how I've offered to trade almost anything up to and including my children for a radio once owned by Frances "Aunt Bea" Bavier. So far, no dice.

So, yeah, I kind of like "The Andy Griffith Show."

Still fussing, Adam loaded the DVD. Any show that centers around Barney is pure gold, so I started off with the one where he joins the choir. Within minutes, Adam and Jesse both were laughing and giggling like it was the funniest thing they'd ever seen on television. Come to think of it, it probably was.

The show ended, and I asked if they wanted to watch another one. They couldn't wait, and I knew, right then and there, that I had 'em hooked. Best of all, when they finally did go to bed Friday night, Adam had one last parting request.

"Can we watch more Andy Griffith tomorrow?"

Yessssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss ...