Happy New Year

That heavy wind and whooshing noise you hear is fast-paced life steaming towards the end of another year.  Some tell me it is 20 below zero wind, called Minnesota weather.  But I know better.

My, how time has flown. As I age, each year goes faster. When I was young, a year seemed like forever; now, a year is almost like a week.

I’m not complaining because life is what we make of it, and 2013 was a very poor effort.  I’m not going to crow about stuff that happened or whine about how my health suffered and left me struggling for many days. No, I will just say a loud ‘Thank You’ to all of you for being part of my life and your friendship and support.

The highlight of 2013 was finishing my 29th consecutive Grandma’s Marathon. It was a strange race, with the fog so bad that I missed most of the mile markers. But then, I found the race easier, not knowing where I was, and kept pushing onward. The picture below shows the conditions.

My workout effort and bike miles were less than half the year before. In 2012, I recorded over 250 hours working out or exercising and logged just under 3,000 miles on the bike. That averaged over 40 minutes each day, and I thought that was acceptable. But 2013 was pathetic. I had just over 110 hours (an average of 18 minutes a day) and logged less than 1,500 miles on the bike. I need to find time for myself.

Not to make excuses, but 2013 had so many changes. In late 2012, I was promoted to a supervisory role. With this came performance reviews and discipline. In 2013, it required letting a staff member go for various simple things they would not resolve. I also felt like I was not getting anywhere personally. Self-pity could be a reason.

I upgraded my camera equipment and was pleased.  I purchased a Nikon D600 (Full Frame) camera, a Nikon 70-200 2.8 lens, a Tamron 10-24 3.5, and a Nikon 50 1.4.  I also picked up an Epson R3000 and printed many pictures at home.  Some of my favorite pictures are shown below.

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Passing 50 caused a moment of reflection.  Looking back, I realize that I made many mistakes and know it is impossible to go back and change.  I know my son is doing well and seems happy.  My ex-wife appears very happy, and that is wonderful.  She is still among the best friends anyone could ever ask for, and I often miss that.  Funny how when you marry a friend, things change.  She deserves to be happy as she nears her mid-40s 40’s.  Things happen for a reason, but as I have written in the past, I am still searching for some things that should have a reason, but I just do not understand.

I also spent much of 2013 thinking about dear friends who passed too soon.  Hard to believe my nephew, who died at three years old, was almost 25 years ago.  I still mourn the loss of Dana, my running partner and great friend, in 2005 -2006, before she was killed in a bicycle accident.  For some reason, I still recall vividly the image of David Prudlick (a high school friend who was killed my senior year).  I also think often of Cutis Arthur Almond, the professor who believed in me and gave me the confidence to pursue my graduate work.  May they, and many others, rest in peace. 

I sincerely hope 2014 brings you all good health and much happiness.  I know I will have to fight the fluid in the brain issue and the recurring infection, which has really sidelined me recently.  The Prednisone, Levaquin, and other steroids really play hell with me.  At times, I just want to give up.  Then I remembered that it was not an admirable option.

After all, we’re here for a limited time—not always a long time! Cherish your ability to go for a run and enjoy the outdoors. As we age, those wonderful experiences do not come easy. But then, if everything were easy, what would have to keep up going? It is the challenge and the success that make it all rewarding.

I do not have goals for 2014. One thought is to enjoy my son's Graduation with his Master's Degree and then possibly ride a bicycle from Denver home. That is just less than 900 miles. It would be a really difficult ride, but one that could be a lifetime of memories! 

Happy New Year, and Carry on, my friends.

But grandpa, he looks funny!

My grandfather has been the subject of many blog posts. There is one story he told that could not be true, although it really emphasizes the love and care a parent gives to a child. It is one I know changed my life… 

My own son has had difficult times, and Lord knows if there was any way for me to do what this father did for his child, I would without hesitation.  I don't know the moral of the following story from my Grandfather, but it made me think many times about how I looked at or treated people.  The story was something like:

There was a farmer who had one eye. His son avoided him and thought his appearance was an embarrassment. He was always helping the neighbors in any way he could to raise a few more dollars to help the son.  One day during elementary school he came to see his son, his son told his friend that the man wasn’t his father, but they knew.  He thought “How could she do this to me?”  The next day at school some of his classmates said, “EEEE, your dad only has one eye!” 

When the son came home, he told his father he wished he would just disappear. His son exclaimed, “If you’re only going to make me a laughing stock, why don’t you just die?” 

The father did not respond… The son didn’t even stop to think for a second about what he had said, because he was full of anger. The son was oblivious to his father’s feelings. 

The son wanted out of that house, and nothing to do with his father. So he studied real hard and earned chance to study abroad.  Then, he got married, bought a house, and had kids.  The son was so happy with his life without his father.   

Then one day, his father came to visit. He hadn’t seen him in years and he had not even meet his grandchildren.  His son always told his family his parents were dead.  The farmer was aware of the success and happiness of his son, but was concerned about the embarrassment he would have caused, so he stayed away. 

When the son stood by the door, his children laughed at his father.  The son yelled at him for coming over uninvited. He screamed, “How dare you come to my house and scare my children! GET OUT OF HERE! NOW!”   

And to this, his father quietly answered, “Oh, I’m so sorry. I may have gotten the wrong address.” – and he disappeared out of sight.  He told the family it was an old co-worker.

One day, the son was informed of a school reunion.   After the reunion, he went to the old farm just out of curiosity.  The neighbors said that his father had died.  The son did not shed a single tear. The neighbors handed him a letter that his father had wanted him to have.

“My dearest son, 

I think of you all the time. I’m sorry that I came to your house and scared your children.  I came to see you as I had liver failure and needed a donor.  If you reading this letter, a donor was not found.  I think it is important you know, when you were very little there was an accident and you lost your eye.  As a father, I couldn’t stand watching you having to grow up with one eye.  So I gave you mine. 

I am so proud of you!  You are seeing a whole new world for me, in my place, with that eye. 

With all my love to you, 

Your father.”

I recall the first time Grandpa told the grandkids this story.  We had just met a child of my grandfather’s neighbor.  I was six years old that summer (year left out intentionally).  The child had a severe case of Down syndrome, and the five Grandchildren did not act nice.  I know I was uncomfortable.  I stared and reacted rudely, as I did not know what to do?  My Grandfather took the kids into the living room, took out the bible (he always held the bible when he told a story), and told us the story.

I became pretty good friends with that Downs Syndrome boy (but can't recall his name!) and many handicapped, fat, unusual people, … over the years.   The less fortunate have so much to offer everyone if we get past the differences from us…

Thanks, Grandpa!

Carry on my friends! 

Home Free

I have never been much for a cappella. Maybe I never understood it or experienced the art form. For me, music required a solid drumbeat and a great guitar lick, or it was not music. That changed on December 14, 2013, when I was given a gift ticket to the Home Free concert at the Fitzgerald Theater in St. Paul, MN. 

When I entered the theater, it was odd to see an empty stage.  Just five stools and a few lights.  How could they rock the hall?  How could we feel the music and the vibes that only a solid drummer and the guitar wizard can bring?  I was looking forward to a nap.

However, when the concert started, I experienced outstanding percussion and a great stand-up bass sound, but where were the instruments? Five guys were singing, and then it hit me: Only two guys were singing, and the other three mouths were creating awesome instruments. I was in awe of their talent! 

So I purchased all five CDs and then picked up another by Tim Foust, a member who did solo music before joining the group. I was in a hurry to get the songs on my iPod. But to my surprise, the CDs were from when Austin Brown and Tim Foust were not with the band. Now, the other three members are talented, but adding these two is a huge improvement. While the CDs were OK, they were I just did not like the new stuff that I could listen to all day.  

Here are some great videos if you have not seen them:

• Home Free doing Avicii - Wake me up
• The first night on the Sing Off doing Cruise by Florida Georgia Line
• My Favorite - Ring of Fire

So, if you hear about them coming to town, I suggest spending some time experiencing the raw talent. It will be a wonderful experience. 

Oh, as a side note, on December 23, they won the A Cappella competition (Sing Off), and it was a very deserving win…  Hope you get the chance to enjoy the talent.  I know I did.

Carry on my friends.

Body pain and stupid actions

I often feel betrayed by my body. It seems to always be breaking down, leaving me frustrated and bitter.  No one else seemed to have as many problems.  I do not have what seems to bother some, like Arthritis, an inflamed gall bladder riddled with stones that end in surgery, chronic migraines, chronic hives, or Chronic Fatigue Syndrome.  Whenever I get sick, it never seems to be something trivial.  A cold becomes bronchitis. Hay fever leads to a sinus infection.

The thing is, I’ve done a lot of healing. I’ve consulted with counselors, physics, osteos, hypnotherapists, and more. I’ve become more in tune and aware of my body in many ways.

So when I found myself trying to heal my chronic pain, I was disappointed to hear the old “poor me, why me?” tape start running again. Something occurred to me as I lay down, feeling very sorry for myself.  There is a lesson I need to learn.  That is what is my body trying to tell me?

I said, “Excuse me, body, I feel really betrayed by you. You always seem to be sick, sad, or sore. What are you trying to tell me?”  Here was my body’s soft, small answer.

“I’m not trying to betray you, but I have needs, too. I try to let you know, but you’re too busy hanging out with your mind. When you two get together, you get lost, and sometimes I have to scream at you for you to hear me.”  Was this correct?

I started to think of the nights when I ignored my body’s need for sleep and eating sugar until I had throbbing headaches. Becoming dehydrated from forgetting to drink water. Punishing workouts that I pushed through in agony in my endless quest for thinness.

All that time, I spent overthinking, over-planning, and overtraining while my body endured it all. I tried and often failed to get my attention until it broke down.

Now, I’m not suggesting that all sickness or pain is caused by a lack of awareness or the ill-treatment of our bodies. Sometimes, illness befalls us for no good reason, and it’s no one’s fault. So, I keep doing what I can…

I am trying to focus. Seriously, focusing on what I can do gives me more inner peace, keeps me grounded, and inspires me to take action. However, how do I focus when my mind is spinning at warp speed?

So being a martyr and pushing myself to try to appear less weak to me or others is a known recipe for disaster I seem to forget. I need to understand if it hurts or it will hurt, I need to stop saying, “I should” or “Screw it, I’m doing it anyway”.  This is the inner self-taking irrational control.

It could be I need to stop trying to heal. I know it sounds weird, but hear me out. The idea of “healing” brings to my mind someone who is sick, broken, and less than good enough. What if, instead of trying to heal myself, I treat my body with absolute kindness? What would that look like?

Along with focus and the need to stop healing, I think of the power of meditation. I don’t think there is a person alive who couldn’t benefit from the strong mental skills that come from meditation. This is doubly true for those of us experiencing chronic pain. I am encouraged to find a style of meditation/relaxation that works, but it seems out of reach!

But it all comes down to the need to nourish myself.  When I feel like crap, it’s so easy to eat sugary foods to comfort myself. But it always backfires because I feel empty and drained after the rushing sugar high. When I choose food that I know my body will love me for, it helps me by putting more energy into healing itself.

One thing I could do better is to find pleasure in anything I do.  The simple pleasures are hindered by illness.  Pain and illness are a drag, no doubt about it. But humor and pleasure are incredibly healing. I need to surround myself with as much pleasure as I can.

I know all this, but I do not have a clue how to transform my attitude during moments of pain or illness. That is one thing I just can’t get right. I will try, but the effort seems grim. I just want to have a day without more than 50 percent of my body in pain. Then, being halfway, I may be motivated.  

Carry on my friends…

Strange stories that make no sense, or do they?

My Grandfather was wise and the most respected man in my life. He told many strange stories that never really made sense. He always said, “Someday you will understand the meaning behind my words, and they may not mean the same to you as another.” He made me think, and I credit him for my success. A proper father can make a difference. 

The story I recalled this past week was:

This beautiful bluebird once had babies in the early part of winter.  The chicks were warm and all bundled together in the nest.  But one young chick was restless and wanted to enter the world early.  He flapped, shook, and did everything he could but could not fly.  He needed to be developed more.  One day, he moved just enough to fall out of the nest and dropped over 50 feet to the ground, which was cold from the snow.  He lay there freezing and did not know what to do, so he kept chirping as loud as possible.

Soon, up came the huge bull.  He looked at the bird and slowly positioned himself over the bird.  The bird thought he was going to be crushed.  Although the bull did not step on him, he just pooped on him.  The huge warm pile of poop saved the bird from freezing.  The Bird was disgusted by the smell and being covered in poop and continued to make as much erratic noise as he could.  Then, up comes a wolf.  The wolf digs the bird out of the poop and uses the snow to clean it up a little.  Then, without hesitation, the wolf swallowed the bird and swallowed him whole.

I thought this was a bad story when he told me the story when I was about 9 years old and several times afterward.  I always thought the moral was to be prepared for life.  But this has been a very hard five weeks for me with excessive pain and the return of the infection, which really messes with my balance, and the headaches are excruciating.  I have used all the mental power I have to create the highest pain threshold I can to get through the day.  At night, I have to wake to sit up every few hours (or sleep sitting up), or the pain is worse.  It appears the medicine has not helped. 

I woke up at about 3:00 AM this morning, and my head was so bad.  For some reason, I thought of the particular story from my grandfather, which is stated above.  And I learned two new morals of the story other than staying the next early.  They are:

• The first thought was that in life, those people that throw shit on you are not always trying to hurt you (Cow shit kept the bird warm).  In as much, those who pull you out of a jam are not always trying to help you (wolf cleaned the bird up for lunch). 

• A second moral could be when you are up to your nose in shit, keep your mouth shut! 

So I am not going to complain about the health issue to loud.

And Grandpa, if you get to read blogs in heaven, you were gone before I really started to understand your stories, but I wouldn't be where I am today (the good parts) or who I am without you. You were the greatest and are missed, especially those stories that made no sense to me as a child.

Carry on my friends, carry on…

Twas just weeks before Christmas

A few years ago, when I blogged more frequently and people read the information, I posted my ideal Christmas list. Someone read it, as I had an interesting gift I wanted from Santa on Christmas morning. The biggest surprise was that Santa read my blog; I must have been a little nice! I never learned who it was, so I concluded that Santa must be real.

So, this year, I will again see if anyone reads my information.  I know people read the information, so let me say that differently.  See if anyone who would traditionally give me a gift reads the blog.  Maybe Santa may reread it, and I am not sure I have been nice this year…

But before I enter the list, let me share my favorite Santa quotes. Some you may have heard, but they are always worth repeating.

• "The main reason Santa is so jolly is because he knows where all the bad girls live." (George Carlin)
• "Santa Claus has the right idea - visit people only once a year." (Victor Borge)
• "Santa was happily married, but his wife wasn't." (Victor Borge)
• "One of the problems we have in this country is that too many adults believe in Santa "Claus, and too many children don't." (Lee Lauer)
• 
" I once bought my kids a set of batteries for Christmas with a note on it saying, toys not included." (Bernard Manning)
• "You know you're getting old when Santa starts looking younger." (Robert Paul)

Anyway, on to my list:

• Be pain-free!  For most of this year, I have had brutal headaches, and they progressively get worse.
• Be infection-free.  In October, I found I had the infection, which in 2010 resulted in major surgery.  I recently finished my Levaquin, Pro-Air, Q-Var, Fluticasone, and Prednisone routine.
• The ability to relax and wind down for a few days

None of this matters much if we are together without argument for at least one day.  That would be the best Christmas gift of all.  Peace and happiness are the ones we love.

Carry on, my friends, carry on.