Resolutions and Unfulfilled Promises

2008...can you believe it's already here? This time two years ago, my wife and I were sitting next to my daughter's bed, wondering if she would awake from a coma. We were on day four of her unconsciousness and had ridden a wild roller coaster of emotions as her condition would worsen and then improve only to regress. I still call December 31, 2006 and those wee hours on January 1st the darkest time of my life.

By the early morning of New Year's Day '06, I had poured my heart and soul out to God in a last desperate attempt to beg for my child's life. It was only after I realized that God is God and I am not did things begin to happen. At a little after 6:00 am, Melissa opened her eyes. She recognized and acknowledged everyone around her bed. It was indeed a miracle. She couldn't speak for the ventilator tube in her throat. Her body was wired to every imaginable type of IV and monitor. It had been a frightening, harrowing 5 days and I never want to go through that again.

A godly man would've dropped to his knees and resolved right then and there to live a life above reproach until his last breath. But I didn't. I paid my lip-service "homage" to God, promising him I would change. I thanked him in words but not in actions. Since my daughter's awakening our lives have been nothing short of turbulent and most of it is my fault.

Rather than acknowledge God's greatness and the gift I'd received by getting my daughter back, I still went on my way trying to control my life, instead of giving it to the Lord. I worried about money and how we would pay all these hospital bills. The fact Melissa would need insulin and supplies every three months would now place a weight on my heart. I ran up our credit card to pay bills and get the meds she would need. And I worried and passed that along to my family. I know I've made Melissa feel guilty about being a type-1 diabetic, like it was her choice. I've not been the man my family and my God calls me to be.

It's time for me to fulfill my promises to God, my family, and myself. For starters, I must make time for all three. God needs all of me, not just my words. He needs my time, my heart, and my actions. He needs me to be in his word to learn more about what he's asking of me. The same is true for my family. They need a godly man to lead us, not some wimp that complains about everything.

As for me, I've got to put aside the things that really don't matter and focus on following God and taking care of my family. Control is something I don't give up easily, but if you look at my life you'll quickly see I have no control over anything. If you examine your own lives you'll see the same is true. God is in control. He is God and we are not. He hung the stars and made the universe and didn't need my help.

So, my resolution is to be the son of God I was created for, to love my family, to live life to the fullest, and quit worrying about things.

As usual, I'd like to lose a few pounds and maybe run a half-marathon, or two. And, I'd like to start a new career. I pray new windows open and I can leave my present job and begin a new one. But I'll leave that to God.

God bless you all and Happy New Year!!!




The Fat Runner

What's Wrong With the Cowboys?

After watching today's loss at the hands of our bitter rivals, the Washington Redskins, I think all of us in the Cowboy world are starting to wonder what's going on. Speaking from a purely Dallas Cowboys' fan perspective, I'll give you my take on what's happening in Big D.

1) It took a while, but the rest of the league, specifically the NFC, have begun to figure out the Cowboys' offense. Tony Romo has had some shaky moments behind center this year. Even with his many miscues, he remains with the top passers in the NFL. That should give some indication of just how talented Romo is. With that being said, the Cowboys are spending way too much time throwing here lately. That leads me to the next point.

2) Run the football. The Cowboys have two incredibly gifted running backs, each possessing their own unique abilities to move the football. The dilemma, and it's a good one, is the Boys have TWO equally talented backs. At some point, in my opinion, Dallas will have to make the difficult decision to make either Julius Jones or Marion Barber the featured back. As Dallas O is becoming predictable and the rest of the NFC are catching up, Dallas is going to have to make the move to give one of these guys the nod. I choose Barber because of his uncanny ability to finish a run straight ahead. It's like having two QB's, which Dallas had back when Landry ran Morton and Staubach in and out on successive plays. Eventually you have to choose your guy and I think it's time for Marion the Barbarian to get his chance.

3) Uncreative play-calling. I love Jason Garrett. He was an outstanding back-up behind Troy Aikman and who could forget his memorable performance against the Packers years ago? He's proven himself as a very capable offensive coordinator and he'll only get better with time. Someday he will be the head coach of the Cowboys. For some reason, he's starting to look more like Ernie Zampese. He's in love with Romo's arm. I'd like to see him move the pocket more and start the game on the ground by pounding Barber until someone stops him. I think the Cowboys are too quick to camp on the pass and abandon the run. As John Madden says..."To win a championship, you have to run the football."

4) We're all right. Yeah we lost to Philadelphia and Washington in the last three games of the year, but we've still got home-field advantage throughout the playoffs and a bye in the first round. The Cowboys simply need to get everyone well, put together a solid game-plan and get out there and execute it. Cut the stupid penalties, control the line of scrimmage on both sides of the ball the way they have when they dominated Green Bay earlier, and take care of business. Don't listen to the media when they say you're great or when they think you're sliding. Keep Jessica out of the stadium, although the whole team must've been infatuated with her that day. Play Cowboys football the way you know how and get us back into the Super Bowl.

We love our football here in Texas and for us Cowboys fans, we live and die with them. I've always said there's no more fair-weather fan that a Cowboys fan. We're like Yankees followers, without the pinstripes. People love to hate us and that's just fine.

My hope is in late January we'll all be saying nothing's wrong with the Cowboys as they head for another Super Bowl.

Next, we'll discuss what's wrong with the NFL. There's plenty to talk about there.

Enjoy the postseason everyone!



TFR

Practice Safe Blogging

Have any of you ever clicked on the "Next Blog" link at the top of your page? Well I did and Holy Cow! I started checking out some other blog sites and it was cool, at first. After about the 5th or 6th click a porn site came up and it was horrible. I couldn't believe it.

I thought maybe this was just a hazard of the internet and maybe it was just a random thing. So, I kept browsing and clicking and another porn site, masked as a blog page, blasted across the screen.

Has anyone else experienced this? I wonder, and I'm being naive, if the creators of this blogging network knows this is happening. If so, it's wrong and shouldn't be allowed to happen.

I hope you all practice safe blogging as you venture into the cyberworld, sharing your thoughts and ideas on the world-wide web.

Good luck to you all and I'll talk to you before the new year.




TFR

Happy Bowl Season?

At 43, I can remember sitting on the floor as a boy, watching the Big Four of college bowl games. Of course, we watched the Rose Parade first thing that New Year's morning. Then, if I recall correctly, the Cotton Bowl, with Lindsay Nelson and Paul Hornung calling the action, kicked off at around noon, followed by the granddaddy, the Rose Bowl, on ABC, then it was off to New Orleans and the Sugar Bowl, and the last game was the Orange Bowl on NBC.

Now I can't exactly remember when the Gator, Peach, Independence, and Sun Bowls began, but I do remember watching them with my dad, so I know they've been around for a while.

Even with the addition of the Fiesta out in Tempe, college football still maintained its identity and control over the quality of play in "major" bowl games.

But along came the decade of corporate sponsorship back in the late 80's and into the 90's and every Tom, Dick, and auto parts store wanted and got its own bowl game. In fact, my friends and I like to make up names for bowl games since they've gotten so ridiculous.

How about the Starbucks Coffee Folgers Dixie Cup Liberal Bowl? Or, The New Mexico Green Chile Tortilla Posole Soup.com Bowl? Try it...it's a lot of fun and would make a great game. We could call it "Name the Bowl Game" game.

My best friend says it doesn't matter. It's football so he watches the games. Unless I'm a real fan of whoever is playing I probably won't pay much attention to the game until it's the major ones in January. I can't imagine the NCAA, ESPN, and the sponsors of some of these ludicrous-sounding fiascos bringing in a big wad of cash from the dozens that are bored enough to tune in.

My point is this. Number One: bring a playoff system to Division 1 college football and, as an ESPN analyst suggested, use the top bowl games as game sites while rotating one bowl game as the national championship. Makes way too much sense, right? Number two: get rid of some of these boring bowl games that make absolutely no difference or impact on the final rankings. I heard a head coach argue that it is exposure for his kids that they might not otherwise get. If only a handful are watching then it's still little exposure. No one cares about the highly-hyped "Bell Helicopter Armed Forces Bowl or the much anticipated Emerald Cashew Mixed Nuts Bowl." Sorry.

I'm a football purist and really don't give a flip about a lot of these games and don't get me started on the NFL. Like the NCAA they have sold out the fan to make another buck to hide in their burgeoning war chest. The NCAA is sending mediocre players into a league that is chock full of mediocrity. All of this is a mirror of a whiney society that doesn't believe in winners or losers and wants to counsel boys every time they get a scratch or don't get picked for the team.

Bring back the best of the best and realize not EVERYONE gets to participate the way little leagues have done. We don't need 32 bowl games. We need 7-8 quality games and a playoff system that will give the smaller-market teams a chance to participate.

Well, with that being said, I'm off to watch the Stop-n-Pop/Truck Stops of America/Gas and Blast/Toot-n-Totum Car Care Central/Allsup's Bean Burrito Bowl. I hope my team wins.

Let me know what you think.

Happy bowl season!!!




TFR

Serious Blogging

It's no secret I'm trying to turn blogging into a full-time job. Help me make this a reality. If you would share my blog with your friends and ask them to share it with others, that would be a huge step toward fulfilling my goal.

Recently I learned about advertising on my blog site. I'm intrigued by the possibilities that presents. I love writing and sharing useful information and would love for my blog to become a network where others respond and share their insights.

If you can think of other ways to make my blog more successful, please share them with me.

2008 is going to be an exciting year--I can just feel it.

I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas holiday and had lots of fun with family and friends. Write and share your thoughts, ideas, and experiences with me.

God bless you!!!




TFR

Merry Christmas to All

It has been a long year. Back when 2007 began, I asked God make this my best year ever.

January began with me contracting a bacterial infection in my stomach that put me down for nearly a month. In March, my youngest daughter, whose depression reached its pinnacle, fell completely apart and was hospitalized with high blood sugars and to treat her mounting depression due to her diabetes and the all the problems it created for her. Then, this same kid slammed into two vehicles, totaling them and hers. Thankfully she wasn't seriously injured.

Just when we thought things were going to calm for our family, my oldest daughter, home from college, was struck by an oncoming car as they both tried to beat the light at the intersection just down from our house. She was seriously injured and wound up with a severe staph infection in her leg that lingered for two months.

The fall and October brought the death of my stepfather who had been recently diagnosed with cancer and had fought a lifelong battle with diabetes. Indeed, there would be many that could say 2007 hasn't been a great year for my family.

But, let's count the blessings, shall we? Yes, my youngest was in deep depression, couldn't sleep for months, and did go to the hospital. She has since been hospitalized twice from complications related to her diabetes. And, she was involved in a three-car accident. Still, she managed to graduate from high school a semester early, has managed her blood sugars beautifully in the last three months of the year, and is already enrolled at our local college where she plans to be a nurse. Blessing one.

Alicia, my oldest, survived her t-boning and lived to walk away from it. Her leg healed and she decided to enroll at a university just a few miles from our city and is now working on her teaching degree. She works two jobs, attends school full-time, and pretty much pays for everything she gets. I'd say she's done pretty well for herself. Blessing two.

While my stomach continues to be a chronic issue, it has made me pay more attention to my diet and self-care. I realize no one will take care of me but ME. All our health issues have made me more keenly aware of the importance of nipping problems before they surface. Blessing three.

My stepfather dying was unexpected and quite a blow to all of us, but it has brought us all together as a closer unit. Thanksgiving was lighter and tonight our Christmas Eve dinner will have more meaning since he won't be there with us. My mom and youngest nephew both have attended church functions with us. I continue to leave the invitation open to my sister, but that's up to her. The fact remains our family is growing closer together. Blessing four.

All of these things have helped me face the little crises with a different perspective. Last week, we had a hot water leak in the hallway by our living room. My wife just began to bawl at the thought of a plumbing bill that might be in the thousands since our home is built on a concrete slab. We both understood at that moment this could be a huge dent in our pocketbooks. But, somewhere, and I believe it was God, I summoned the courage and said, "It'll be all right. It's only money." I said a prayer that evening that God would send us an angel in the form of a plumber with a big heart. He did just that. We needed a new water heater and he fixed the leak. Eventually, the cost was $1500 under my guess-timate. What a tremendous blessing!

Praise God for all the opportunities he's presented me and my family with this year. We've had a chance to grow in our faith as it has been tested so fervently over the past two years. God has created a family of battle-hardened, crisis managers that are willing to fight Satan at every turn and will not fly the white flag in any situation. This is the greatest blessing we received this year.

Rather than look at the bad and flee, we assess the threat, break it down, and stand and fight. We praise God when it's good and praise him when it's bad, because it's never that bad. We have the assurance of eternal life with him and that's all I need to know.

My life is good. 2007 has indeed been my best year ever. On December 31, at 11:59 pm, I will pray that God makes 2008 my best year ever. New Year's Day will be the two-year anniversary of my daughter's survival from the most traumatic event of her life--a coma. What a great way to start my best year ever. To remember my daughter's rebirth and why I am blessed beyond measure.

God bless you all and may 2008 be your best year ever.

Merry Christmas to all and to all a great year!!!




The Fat Runner

Daisies Grow In Darkness

All was quiet as the young girl pretended to be asleep. She had said a prayer he wouldn't return. She kept mumbling to herself, over and over the same words, "Please don't let him come, please don't let him come." But he did. Night after night.

The smell of alcohol on his breath would stain the girl's memory. It was a nightmare. When she ought to be fast in slumber after a bedtime story and good night kiss, she found herself terrorized instead, waiting each night for the inevitable.

This little girl, whose stepfather would wait until everyone was in bed and all was still, would lie shivering as he made his stealthy, evil walk to her bed where he would ravage her childhood. It all began at age five and didn't end until she was near her teens.

Each time he finished taking another piece of her happiness, he would whisper, "If you tell your mom, she won't believe you." Oh, how many times she wanted to tell. Her heart screamed from within, but no one ever heard it.

Finally, after a few years had past, the girl summoned the courage to tell her mom the dreadful news. And just as her dad had prophesized, her mom called her a liar. That night, he paid another noctural visit and afterward, with whisky fresh on his breath, he uttered, "I told you so."

It took her older sister to finally come forward and support her story, and later two cousins to share the times he had tried to hurt them. The little girl's mom threw her stepfather out and the madness stopped.

Years would pass, but the horror remained vivid in her mind. Every night when she curled up to sleep, she would wait for the sound of the creaking door as it opened, but it didn't. She was never really sure if he was gone or if it was just a dream.

In time, this girl would grow to be a woman and embark on a quest to fulfill her dream of becoming a teacher. She left home and moved far away to attend college. "Out of sight, out of mind," she thought. 300 miles from home gave her some measure of security.

It was while she in college she met her future husband. She called him her "Knight" and "Savior." What she didn't know is he felt the same way about her.

You see, I'm that little girl's husband. She rescued me from myself and didn't even realize it. I remember her waking up in the middle of the night, startled and shaking. I'd jump and ask, "What's wrong?" She would breathe a sigh of relief and say she heard a noise that sounded all too familiar. It was the wind--maybe God's breath--reminding her he was there and so was I and she didn't have to worry anymore.

My wife grew to be a brilliant, fragrant daisy. They say plants need plenty of sunshine and water to survive. But my daisy grew in darkness, emerging strong and vibrant.

She's a teacher now and lives her dream. I get to live mine every day, too. I should say I get to live WITH mine each day.

My daisy grows in God's light and reflects that everywhere she goes. She still carries with her the painful memories of her shattered childhood, but she has taught me a valuable lesson about forgiveness, which is something she made a point to tell her dad before we got married. She let him know he was forgiven and I've never seen a man hurt as bad as he did that day.

If she can forgive him for something like that, then I can forgive others for lesser offenses.

She's my daisy. From darkness into the light she grew and from the light she shines.



TFR

In Hot Pursuit of God

With Christmas rapidly approaching, and now finding myself engrossed in plumbing repairs that are approaching $2500, it's easy to look at God as my own personal Santa.

Let me clue you in on a piece of information. God's last name is NOT Kringle. He doesn't wear a red suit and he doesn't exist for me to call on when things are going bad in my life. You see, for most of my adult life I have treated God just like a mall Santa. If things were going my way, I rarely called on him. When my wife was hit with a stroke two years ago, I cried and partially blamed him for letting that happen. Then, in the same calendar year, that December my youngest daughter went into diabetic coma and should've died. For four, agonizingly painful days, I saw little hope and felt my heart grow darker each day. It took the fourth day of her coma for me to bottom out and give her back to God. She awoke and right then and there I came to an understanding that God is God and I am not.

As I sat and pondered my plumbing woes this afternoon, something hit me. My wife has really struggled with faith issues these last two years. She's a victim of sexual abuse when she was a child, then endured a stroke, and went through watching her daughter almost die. Every time we have another health issue or financial setback, it's easy for her to take it out on God. What struck me today, and God discusses this concept over and over again in the Bible, (depending on your translation) is that I really am in a marriage relationship with the Lord.

For better or worse, richer or poorer, sickness and in health, no matter what, I am his and he loves me in spite of my shortcomings. In our society, given the wretchedly horrible numbers of divorced in America, most people seem to have selective hearing when it comes to vows. They only hear better, richer, and health. When it comes to worse, poorer, and sickness it's time to throw up their hands and quit.

There's a great quote in the movie, "Facing the Giants" in which the head coach is calling his team to aspire to something greater as they had lost some key games. He tells them, "We praise him [God] when it's good and praise him when it's bad." How apropos!

I'm in a covenant relationship with God, just as Abraham was. Even when things are bad, I give praise to God. At least I have a home that has plumbing. I have a nice vehicle, a job, two healthy kids, and a tremendously faithful wife that I DO NOT deserve! God never promised sunshine, flowers, and rainbows. He did promise Adam life would be hard after he banished him from the Garden.

So, as I'm faced with my own personal "giants," I will praise him in good times and bad, better or worse, richer or poorer, sickness and in health 'til death do I join him in all eternal splendor.

My life is a journey and like the LAPD on Cops, I'm in hot pursuit...of God.

That's my confession. What's yours?

May God bless you!!!



TFR

The Miracle of Life

We take so many things for granted in life. The sun rises and paints the east a fiery pink hue and then creates a golden glow as it sets for the night. Our kids come in and out with barely a word and maybe, if we're lucky, we get in a quick "I love you" as they fly out the door and out of sight. And what about the way the leaves turn and fall as we move from fall to winter? And then the miracle of the renaissance of spring. For us teachers, that means summer is right around the corner. Ahhhh, summer and then rest.

I guess the one thing I do take for granted is just the mundane, day-to-day moments of living that become so routine. Take our friends, for example.

A little over two weeks ago, my friend and fellow high school church group leader, Roman, experienced something no husband should have to endure. His wife Melissa, 37 and an instructor at a community college 50 miles from her home, was on her way to work when the unthinkable happened. At around 7:30 am, she fell asleep at the wheel. Her SUV flew off the well-traveled Texas highway she was on, struck an embankment, flew over 100 feet in the air, and then flipped multiple times, coming to a rest with the nose of the vehicle pointing downward. Thankfully, Melisssa was wearing her seatbelt; however, it was wrapped around her neck and strangling her.

No one knows for sure how long she was there before a trucker saw the smoke and called 911. When the Texas DPS trooper reached her, she was unconscious, bleeding, and not breathing. It was minutes before the local volunteer fire department and ambulance arrived. Realizing the extreme gravity of the situation, the LifeFlight helicopter was called from Amarillo. Meanwhile, firefighters used the jaws of life to extract Melissa from her mangled truck. From all the accounts I have heard, it was unbelievably bad.

Melissa was flown to the county hospital trauma center in Amarillo and taken immediately to surgery. She had massive swelling of the brain and the doctor told her husband she had little chance of survival. By the time I got the news in an email at work she had been in surgery for several hours. She made it through the procedure but her prognosis for full recovery was very grim.

By the time I reached the hospital that evening, the word was better, but still uncertain. For the first time since my own daughter opened her eyes after being in coma for 4 days, I felt like I could help someone through a similar circumstance. I asked Roman if he was tired of answering the same questions over and over again. He chuckled nervously as he hugged me and cried. At that moment all I could think about was my wife and how I would feel if I lost her. I've been down that road too when she had a stroke coming out of knee surgery two years earlier.

God has placed before me some amazing, life-altering events that have shaped my life. I never asked to be a counselor, but God has given me that ability through the traumatic happenings within our family.

As I look at my family, friends, colleagues, students, and neighbors I believe God is telling me to quit taking things for granted and to count the many blessings I've received. I don't deserve to have a warm home, or nice truck, or good clothes, or even the job I so often can't stand. But God has given me those earthly possessions to teach me to be a good steward. But more importantly, he wants me to be a good steward of my relationships and to never just brush them off.

Melissa is now awake, alert, and talking. She recognized and responded to her kids and husband when she first awoke, which is nothing short of a miracle. Perhaps the most eerie occurrence in this whole period happened the other day when Roman, along with several friends, visited the sight of the accident for the first time. He saw the tire tracks and the impact zone and final resting place of the SUV that fateful morning. As his eyes scoured the scene and tears welled in his eyes he noticed something half-buried in the dried tire tracks. It was a card that had fallen out of Melissa's truck and was stuck in the ground. The card had on it from Jeremiah 29:11, "For I know I the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

If that doesn't give you chills...nothing will. Don't take anything for granted. Especially not the power of God. He has plans for us, just as he has plans for Melissa.

God bless you all with safety and security.



TFR

Passion

From the title of this blog, it sounds like this blog is going to be juicy, but nope, not even close. After talking with my mentor and close friend this afternoon, he made the comment that I need to decide what my passion is and find a way to pursue it.

Teaching is not my "passion," per se, but I love educating people. God has given me a gift of verbal and spoken communication and I really love creating, planning, and giving presentations. I love getting up in front of people and talking. My other two passions, other than God and family, are writing and running. If I can figure out how to parlay that into a career, then I'd go for it.

I realize it's time to move on. As much as I think I'd make a good administrator at school, I don't fancy doing this in a profession that is buckling under the weight of bureaucracy. I just need to find my passion and go get it.

I tell my careers kids that you need to choose a job because you love it, not for the money. I need to follow my own advice. There's a balance that must be struck between doing what I love and remembering I have a mortgage, student loans, and car payments. Somewhere between the two is my destiny. Even though I believe my destiny was to be a child of God and serve him no matter the cost, I do know my life is still a journey and somewhere along the way, I hit the speed bump.

So, it's time to get moving. I've got six months to start living my life all over again. Tomorrow is a great start toward achieving that. Time to move as I say...ever forward.

That's my confession. What's yours?

Go Cowboys! Great game, but too many mistakes!!!

God bless you with great days.



TFR

If I Can Make It Til December

With regards to Merle Haggard, I think teachers came up with that saying. Here we are, right on the edge of December and Christmas break seems a long way off.

As I walked back into school this morning still reeling from having to leave the warmth and safety of the home I took refuge in during Thanksgiving break, it was freezing. It seems someone forgot that, oh...we were back in school again today! Instead of leaving the heat on low during the holiday the district shut it all off, then didn't get it fired up in time for us to return. It was a lovely 55 degrees in my classroom when I hit the door, suitable for hanging dressed meats and/or dead body storage.

All this did was make me want to run back to my truck and get the hell out of Dodge. I didn't miss work one iota while on sabbatical and this reinforced my feelings. I've got a couple of friends that got out of teaching last year and the other day I asked them if they missed it. Both of them gave me an emphatic "NO!" One told me you'd think after being in the classroom for 20 years you would miss something about it, but he doesn't at all. The other said she's happy tutoring from time to time but doesn't miss all the crap that was being dog-piled on her by an increasingly apathetic system that cares more about test scores than real classroom performance.

I'm hanging in with the hopes I can become an administrator after last summer's demoralizing 0-for-7 interview debacle, losing out to some people who we should just say should never be running a school. But I'm not bitter. God just had other plans for me at the time. I'm hoping he's ready for me to move into administration. I want to make a difference, not only in the lives of students, but in teachers' and staff members' as well. I am not a yes man, so that probably doesn't get me any brownie points. I believe in being firm and doing my job and letting that stand as my barometer of worthiness for promotion.

This spring semester will be my swan song. I have no plans to return to teaching for another year. I will place all my eggs in the administrative basket and if that doesn't work out, it's time for me to go. My neighbor at school has heard me say this over and over again, but I think she knows I'm finally at the end of my rope and it's do or die time.

After 6 years, and what I hope has been a fruitful experience for my kids, and a total of 15 years working in the system, I will walk away in June if I'm unable to promote. I don't have the patience to stick around and try year after year, like some have done. There has to be something else out there for me to do. I just have to let God light the path. I pray I'll get a crack at being an assistant principal next year, but I also wouldn't mind a fresh start in a brand new arena doing something totally opposite what I've done for so long.

So, if I can make 'til December, I'll have a chance to rest and gather my thoughts and get the energy to face what looks to be my final semester as a teacher. Right now I'm fighting respiratory crud and a return visit from H-pylori (a bacterial infection in the stomach caused by stress) that almost put me in the hospital last year. So, I can barely think about going to work right now as my head, chest, and stomach are wearing me out.

For now, I have to stay focused on the task at hand and that is teaching for another 18 and 1/2 days. I'll do my best to hang in there. My colleagues are all worn out and tired and need some rest. Too many of us are dealing with health issues which no doubt is brought on by the stress of our jobs, but at least we're not in Iraq, or working a job where we face our own mortality every day, so when you put it into the proper perspective, it's not that bad. But as a friend once said, "Misery is relative." So it is...and so it goes.

That's my lengthy confession. What's yours?




TFR

Bama's "9-11" and Other Picture Postcards

I've got to comment on perhaps one of THE dumbest things ever to come out of a head coach's mouth. If you're a big football fan, like I am, you follow teams, players, and coaches. Alabama's head loser, Nick Saban, has done it again. He's proven he has zero loyalty to any team he coaches, but now he's demonstrated just how intelligent he really is. By comparing his team's latest loss to 9-11 and Pearl Harbor, Saban has shown the world what a scholarly man truly looks like. Come on, it's only a game. Two towers didn't fall on your team and nobody died. Give me a break. I love how the Bama athletic department has begun to spin his comments to make Saban look less stupid, but the damage is done. Yes, Alabama, you hired him and you deserve him. Good luck.

Now, on to bigger, more important things. Thankgiving is finally here. For the first time in my life, I really don't want turkey. Last year, it made me sick and now I'm just to the point where I don't even want to look at it. So, I guess tomorrow, while watching the Boys, I'll be eating ham.

Page three: Christmas shopping. As Steven Rigney so eloquently observed in his comment to my seasonal Wal-Mart rant, Christmas has become a "season" rather than a holiday. I don't understand the whole "Black Friday" thing and don't care to, either. It befuddles me when I think of housewives fighting over that last Transforming-Roboto-Gigacrap that their kid just has to have only find it buried deep in the quagmire that is the toy-box a couple of months later. By the way, these same shoppers willing to commit assault and battery in the name of Mattel are the same people manning the tables at local church bazaars. The name of Mattel vs. the name of the Lord. Hmmm.

And finally, I hope you all have a wonderful Thanksgiving holiday. Think of things you are thankful for. In the span of two years, my wife had a stroke, daughter survived a coma, both kids were involved in serious car accidents, and a myriad health issues have bombarded my entire family. I've had to settle down and really look at what God is trying to tell me. Through all these crises, we are all still alive. We have a few dings, but essentially we are intact.

I'll leave you with this thought to ponder--what if in the midst of all our accidents and tragedies and crises, we were spared even greater pain? What if, just what if, we could turn the lights on and see, like an oncoming middle linebacker, Satan's demon was nailed by an angel right as it about to bring down a crushing blow? Instead of feeling the full weight of that hit, we were merely grazed, leaving us with lesser catastrophe than the larger one that would have devastated us to our core. Maybe that's why Nick Saban's comments are so incredibly mindless to me. Count your blessings, like being a coach for a major college team and getting paid huge amounts of money and living in the lap of luxury while others starve or work two and three jobs to give their kids a Thanksgiving meal tomorrow. Be happy for the dings and scrapes because they could've been worse. Remember we live in the greatest nation in the world and have a few choices--like whether or not to watch Alabama play another game.

God bless you all on this Thanksgiving holiday. May your bellies be full, but more importantly, may your hearts be happy.




TFR

What's On Your Playlist?

I have an i-Pod. I'm not always sold on the whole Apple hype thing, but I do like my 2 gigger. It would be even better if it had an FM tuner and I'm trying to figure out why Apple refuses to add one to their i-Pods.

I've got close to 500 songs on my playlist. It's hard to listen to that many songs and I can't imagine having an MP3 with more storage space and 1,000+ song capacity. Are there that many songs in existence? I guess so.

Here's a sampling of my playlist, boring as it may be. You'll find I'm a 80's man, but I do like a lot of contemporary groups, but I can't stand rap.

Alanis Morrisette's Greatest Hits
Sheryl Crow's Greatest Hits
Eye of the Tiger--Survivor
I Love Rock n Roll--Joan Jett
Heartbreaker/Hit Me With Your Best Shot--Pat Benatar
Gonna Fly Now--Rocky soundtrack
Coming in the Air Tonight--Phil Collins
Heat of the Moment--Asia
Africa/Rosanna--Toto
I Want You to Want Me--Cheap Trick
Friends in Low Places--Garth Brooks
Who's Your Daddy?--Toby Keith
Back in Black/Thunderstruck--AC/DC
Detroit Rock City--Kiss
Clocks/Yellow--Coldplay
Don't Stop Believin'--Journey
After Midnight--Eric Clapton
It Keeps You Runnin'--Bob Seger
Ride Like the Wind--Christopher Cross
Heart of Rock n Roll/I Want a New Drug/Power of Love--Huey Lewis and the News
All Star/Walkin' on the Sun--Smashmouth
Wizards in Winter--Trans-Siberian Orchestra

and, of course...The Essential Dean Martin (30 hits)

I'm 43 and getting old, but I still like to rock. There's nothing like music to get you going on a long run on a cold day.

Let me know if you listen to music while you workout and if you do, what's on your playlist?

Take it easy and enjoy the ride!




TFR

Cowboys Rant

I've been a Dallas Cowboys fan for as long as I can remember. This year's team is good and they sure can give you fits, which makes them your typical Dallas bunch. However, I've got to make a couple of comments about some flaws I'm seeing on the field.

I love Roy Williams. Even when he was with the Sooners, I liked him and I can't stand OU. He's a great "hitter" and he definitely comes to play every Sunday. Sure, he can paste a lick on a receiver that will leave him spinning until next Sunday, but, like cheap latex paint, he provides lousy coverage. In fact, he may just be the worst pass defender in the whole Cowboys' secondary. All you have to do is remember Santana Moss' two catches for TD's on a Monday night a couple of years ago, or Jeremy Shockey toasting Williams for several big plays last season and you know why I think Roy is bad. Like I said, I love him as long as he doesn't have to cover anyone.

And what's up with the Dallas special teams unit, especially kick and punt return? They are horrible. That might just be the one glaring chink in the silver and blue armor this season. Today against the Skins is a classic illustration of what I'm talking about. The Redskins regularly began most of their series beyond their own 30 after the Cowboys allowed them to run right through the first wave of tacklers. Please fix this before Green Bay.

Lastly, the Boys have got to cut out those mind-numbingly stupid penalties. Like my high school coach used to scream when we would false start, "You know the snap count, idiot, they don't!!!" I realize there's 65,000 ranting fans in Texas Stadium, but come on--hold your water, for crying out loud! Wade Phillips even went so far as to make the team sign a pledge to stop the insanity of drive-killing, or extending, penalties. I think if he levies some hefty fines these guys might get the message he means business. Is it too much to ask for a little discipline from grown-ups making ungodly sums of money as professionals to make fewer mistakes? I don't think so.

Bonus: Could somebody please tell Jerry Jones to get his chemically-peeled rear end back upstairs where he belongs with the champers and shrimp cocktail? I mean look at him. I think he's been dead for three years. He looks like "Weekend at Jerry's." What happened to leathery tough head coaches that would tell the owner, "Your place is in the stands and mine is down here." Yep, and never the 'twain shall meet.

That's my Cowboys rant for the day. See you Thanksgiving.



TFR

Elvis is Dead and My Achilles Hurts

I've been increasing my running mileage over the last few weeks and now I'm paying for it. My left achilles is tender and I walk like John Wayne wearing a barbed-wire thong.

I guess my age is catching up to me. At 43 and being a fat runner, I'm slowly wearing down. I'm still battling my weight and doing my best to stay in shape. After a hard run today on the fake road in my local gym, I hopped on the scale at 244. That sucks! As hard as I workout I feel like I should be getting lighter. I do lift weights, but I don't believe I've put on that much muscle.

Maybe I need to live with the fact I'll always be The Fat Runner and quit worrying about being some slim-jim dude I ain't never gonna be. My students still think I'm the bomb when they see me out running and some of my male student-athletes said they wish they had my calves. Right now, I'd rather give them my achilles.

For now, I'll keep running and hoping my legs will last me through another year. I've heard of runners taking off three to six weeks just to rest, but I'm afraid if I do that I'll look like a balloon floating through Albuquerque. I guess I could dial it down a notch and lower my intensity a bit. With the holidays fast approaching (see my last blog entry) I want to keep moving and burning calories so I can at least feel good eating all that junk on Thanksgiving.

I'll keep moving forward and not worry too much about all the other stuff. Like the saying goes, "The rest is just details."

That's my confession. What's yours?

God bless you!



TFR

Merry Hallogiving

Have you been in Wal-Mart lately? If you're anything like me, you've been there in the last hour. What's up with Christmas decorations and holiday music the day after Halloween? I mean, the peanut butter kisses had no sooner gone on clearance when the inflatable Santa rising from the inflatable chimney is blaring "Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow," in the Lawn and Garden department.

It's like Turkey Day doesn't matter anymore. The biggest feasting day of the year is losing its punch. And Wal-Mart isn't the only one making us long for the glitter of Easter in December, there's the house down the street that has icicle lights twinkling beginning LAST WEEK! I'm no Bah Humbug, but I am a traditionalist. Silly me. I like my Santa to show up sometime in the 12th month of the year.

It just seems like all these department stores are pushing the holiday envelope earlier every year. Why wait until Christmas to watch Ralphie shoot his eye out? Why look for the white stuff to celebrate little Kevin's loneliness in his neighborhood dwelling while his parents are freaking in France? Isn't March a better time for fruit cake anyway?

From what I heard the other day, retailers are hitting the panic button in light of all the mortgage crashes and lay-offs that are sure to come before the end of the year. So, let's run those credit card bills up as the sales hit the floor in early November so we can file bankruptcy as we usher in another ball-dropping with the ageless teenager on ABC.

At the risk of sounding like Dennis Miller on crack, I just think Christmas has become as routine as a hot date with your wife of 47 years. But, as a wise man once said, the spirit of Christmas is in your heart, not Bentonville, or the mall, or even up on my neighbor's way-too-early-decorated house. I guess I just needed to rant about something tonight and this was it.

At least I'm not the poor schmoe cashier in weed and feed listening to Bing Crosby ad nauseum when it's 75 degrees outside. It could be worse. It could be Texas Tech's fight song.

That's my rant, er...confession. What's yours?

God bless you and Merry Week Before Turkey Day!!!



TFR

Is Running Really Safe?

If you keep up with running news, today was a sad and shocking day in the world of our sport. Ryan Shay, a U.S. Olympic marathon hopeful, died while running in the trials today. This comes on the heels of runners going down in the heat of the Chicago Marathon, with one man dying. Also, former Boston Marathon winner and Nike coach Alberto Salazar fell victim to a heart attack while trotting to the track to begin working out his team. Fortunately for Mr. Salazar he survived.

This all got me to thinking--is running really safe? I mean, you have to wonder when you hear about world-class athletes dropping dead during a run. By no means am I an elite runner, but I do run. I weigh 241 pounds and lift weights 3 times a week. I consider myself in fairly decent shape, but is my click ticking?

So many of these runners that have died while engaging in their sport have been found to have some sort of heart defect or genetic predisposition to heart disease. Irregular heart rhythms run in my family on my mom's side. I, too, have had irregular heart beats from time to time, which I have read is fairly common. Still, maybe it is time for me to have a checkup.

I'm not a big fan of going to the doctor. Last year, I experienced a bacterial stomach infection that had to drive me to the floor before I finally acquiesced and with to the emergency room. So when I read about runners like Shay and Salazar I'm thinking now is the time to do a little preventive medicine.

With my family's propensity for hospital visits (my youngest is back in the hospital right now as I type this), I don't want to be careless and be the latest casualty.

I'd like to know what you all think. I just wish we had more people reading my blog because I'd love to open this for discussion. If you run and are reading this, would you tell me what you think about my question?

I pray Ryan Shay's death isn't connected to anything wrongful. Runner's World magazine stated, "within hours of Shay's death the rumors were already swirling." That aside, it's just tragic a young man of 28, and a newlywed, lost his life.

I want to be healthy and run for many years to come. I'd like to be in my 60's, like my friend Ted, and still have the legs to run and kick my grandchildren's butts.

Let me know what you think. I'd love to hear from you.

God bless you with great running!




TFR

The Fat Runner, The Prequel

Back before I became The Fat Runner, I was just FAT. In the spring of 1997, I weighed 305 lbs. I was a heart attack looking for a place to happen. An EKG was definitely in my future.

For the majority of my life I've been overweight. I was always the fat kid that everybody made fun of in school. I got to be in the school Christmas play every year, not as a elf or talking reindeer, but as Santa. I guess I should be proud of that since I had more speaking lines than anyone else. To this day the sight of that red suit and white beard sends chills up my spine.

Still, I played sports and amazed everyone at my agility and speed. For a big kid I ran faster than many smaller players on the team. I played baseball, football, and put the shot in track. I was fat, but a good athlete. However, I had very little self-esteem and always knew I was the "fat boy" and would probably never be the star athlete, or Prince Charming.

Fast forward to 1997. My wife and I bought bicycles for ourselves and our two young daughters. We sat out on a short ride from our apartment to a park about two miles away. After a mile I could barely pedal. I was so out of breath I thought I was going to croak. It was horrible. It made me so angry that I had let myself get to this point. So, that day began a quest for me to change my lifestyle. My normal day at work consisted of drinking 2-3 42 oz cokes, eating donuts at breakfast, snacking on junk, and eating big, fatty burgers for lunch. Then, I'd go home and drink more pop, eat a big supper, and snack all night. This was a recipe for disaster.

In March '97, I started riding my bike each day, going a little farther every time I rode. I broke three bikes in less than four months from my weight. I decided to invest in a better machine so I went to our local bike shop and bought a Specialized mountain bike for around $200. It was the best thing I've ever purchased. I attached an odometer to keep track of my mileage and off I went.

By late summer that same year, I was riding over 75 miles a week and had lost nearly 45 pounds. That August, I started a new job at my same school and came in for registration. I rode my bike the five miles to my school. When I walked in, no one could believe their eyes. I weighed 250. I was slowly transforming the old me. I made it a point to ride to work as often as I could and by the beginning of 1998 I had lost 100 lbs. My best friend made fun of me, saying all I needed was a number tattooed to my forearm and I'd look like a Holocaust survivor. I had fudged on a lot of my favorite foods and even passed on foods that were good for me in order to lose the weight. I wouldn't advise anyone to try this. I lost of a lot of muscle and had to work hard to reclaim it.

Losing 100 pounds is a quite a feat. It makes you rethink your whole lifestyle and you have to make sacrifices in order to keep the weight off. It also makes you look at yourself in a new way. For example, I know what anorexics go through now, because even after I lost all that weight I still saw myself as fat. I would eat a meal and then feel guilty. I'd run to a scale to see if I gained anything back. After eating I always felt the urge to jump on my bike and ride 10-15 miles to burn off the calories I had just consumed. It's an awful feeling.

What turned me around is running. In 1999, my best friend, a police officer and avid runner, asked me to join him at a local park for a run. At first I was a little reticent to try it, but he insisted and I said yes. I didn't even own a decent pair of running shoes but I figured it was worth a shot. We stretched and got started. Now, I didn't think I would make a full mile without walking some, but as we ran, we talked and that was enough of a distraction I didn't notice the mileage. After several laps around we stopped. My buddy hit his watch and said, "Do you know how far we ran?" Of course, I didn't. We had done 5 miles in under 40 minutes. I could hardly believe it. "Really!" I exclaimed. 5 miles? 5 miles! It was my first run and I was ecstatic.

I went straight to the mall the next day and bought a brand-new pair of Adidas running shoes, with cushioned soles. I met my best friend 5 days a week and we ran anywhere from 3-5 miles at a time. I still rode my bike and got him to join me doing that, but I was hooked on running.

Since then, I've participated in a marathon and completed a 50-mile run/walk for diabetes. I'm not much of a 5k runner nor do I get into all the competitive runs in our area, but I love to run. I weigh 240 and lift weights 3 times a week to keep toned. I've still got a gut. Some guys have a six-pack. I have a keg and don't mind. That's why they invented spandex performance wear to hold all my jiggly in.

If you're reading my blog, my goal is to inspire those who may be thinking of running, or may already be running and don't think you're all that great an athlete. Speaking as a 43-year old husband, father of two, and school teacher, I'm not a phenomenal athlete and won't be setting any land speed records this year, but I'll be out there running and loving it. I'm a fat guy, The Fat Runner. I'm proud of that title. I can outrun my daughters and many of my students.

No, I'm still not the star athlete, but I did get to be Prince Charming. At least that's what my wife says. I'm a fat knight in shining Nike's and I got the girl. So, dreams can come true-with the mantra I developed while trying to shed all that weight. CDHP is the acronym I still live by.

Commitment
Dedication
Hardwork
Perseverance

I would puff that out anytime I felt like quitting. I still do when I get tired and need to go that extra mile.

So, hang in there and realize someone in Texas knows what you're going through. Keep running and ever forward!

That's my confession--what's yours?

God bless you!!!



TFR

What the Heck!

Okay. I've read your comments and now I'm vahklempt (sp). Steven, I hear you. I guess I've just been trying to figure out if my blogging has been enlightening or just a waste of time. I appreciate all the kind responses I've received from you all. Thank you for your support and encouragement.

What the heck, I guess I'll keep blogging for a while and see where it leads me. Maybe you all could help me do a better job by sending me your ideas.

I do have something I'd like to discuss today. A few blogs back I mentioned I might have some news to share with you. No, I'm not pregnant. Anyway, you all know my youngest daughter is a type-1 diabetic. If you read my bio, you also know we did a 50-mile run/walk last year in November. This year, in conjunction with one of our local fitness clubs and the assistance of the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation, I will be running/walking on a treadmill for 12 straight hours to raise funds for diabetic research. This event will take place the first Saturday in January. My fitness club is allowing us to use machines for $1 per minute for anyone that would like to sign in and participate. Along with corporate sponsorship, we feel we could raise over $10,000 by doing this.

How can you help? I'd like to challenge anyone reading to get out on that January 5 day and raise money for someone you know that has diabetes. There are over 15 million diagnosed diabetics in the U.S. and the numbers keep climbing. In Amarillo alone, 2 new diabetics are diagnosed per day. According to the JDRF, our local American Diabetes chapter, and the City of Amarillo Health Department we have 15,000 diabetics in the Amarillo metro area (population 197,000). That percentage closely mirrors state and national statistics. See www.jdrf.org for more information.

With numbers like these, chances are you or someone you know has diabetes. With the recent loss of my father, a diabetic of over 40 years and whose affliction contributed to his early death, I'm more determined than ever to find a cure for this rapidly growing and disease. Diabetes research is the least funded of all the major diseases. Therefore, I'm asking you to help out by running with me on that day. Start a run in your city. Go to people you know and tell them about this crazy guy in Amarillo, Texas that is running 12 hours on January 5 to put an end to diabetes. Tell them about the miracle I witnessed when my daughter awoke from a coma to become a type-1 diabetic and how this kid and her dad are fighting to cure her and others.

I hope you'll join me as we battle to wipe out diabetes forever. A cure is closer than we think. Researchers are getting closer and closer to finding the cure. Please help us make this a reality.

Once again, thanks for all your encouragement and God bless you all.

Keep in touch and let me know what's up and how my blogs are doing.




The Fat Runner

I Give Up

After blogging for a couple of months and getting little response, I think it's time to pack it up. My blogging has become an exercise in futility since I only have three regular respondents.

I enjoy sharing my thoughts, but it's like having a high-paying job with lots of benefits. If there's no one to share it with, then it's all for nothing.

Therefore, I must re-examine my blogging to see if I can direct my time toward other efforts. It's not like I spend an enormous amount of time doing this, but it's still time better spent on other ventures.

Good luck to those of you who have sent me comments on my blogs. Perhaps at some other time, I'll resume this if I see some sort of benefit to doing it.

God bless you all and take care.



The Fat Runner

There's Always Tomorrow

I accidentally hit enter and all I posted was a title. What a great way to start a blog.

There's always tomorrow. At least that's what I thought two years ago. In the span of those two years, I've witnessed my wife's stroke, youngest daughter's coma and subsequent awakening, and both my kids sustaining serious car accidents. If I were a superstitious man, I'd say I'm jinxed.

You would think that after all this I'd live more for today and let tomorrow take care of itself. God keeps giving me these examples of how fragile my life is and I keep blowing him off.

Last week, my father was diagnosed with liver cancer that had metastasized into the lymph nodes in his neck. He wasn't given much of a chance for survival, even with chemo. He wanted to fight the illness and decided to take the treatments no matter the cost.

Three days after getting out of the hospital he was home and feeling a little better. He had taken his first round of chemotherapy. My wife went by to see him and reported he was looking much better. She said she kissed him good-bye and told him and my mom I'd be coming over the next day. That was my "tomorrow."

That night, I decided to hop into the shower, clean up, and then go back and finish watching the baseball game. While in the shower my sister called, screaming my dad wasn't breathing and the paramedics were there working on him. I quickly began getting dressed to meet the ambulance at the hospital, just a mile away. By the time we were down the street my sister called again, saying my dad was dead. Tomorrow wouldn't come.

Junior, as he is known, was really my stepfather. He married my mom 37 years ago. I was raised by someone else in our family as my mom pursued a life with him. They had my sister in 1971 and were living in a nearby city. We moved away from them a few years later. Thus began a strange and distant relationship with my real mom, stepfather, and little sister.

I grew up not knowing how to feel about him. I never fully understood how to take anything he said to me. At times, I feared him and at other times, I hated him. He had never done anything to me, but I just didn't embrace him.

It took me many years to finally understand my stepfather. I guess it was the day he introduced me to some of his co-workers as his "son" that I began to see him in a different light.

When my girls were born he treated them like gold. He always loved them and spoiled them. They were his granddaughters and he'd tell you so. They loved him very much.

Now, after years of trying to get to know him, I realized I still don't. It came to me as my mom, sister, and I were trying to pick a casket and arrange his funeral. As we were writing his obituary it struck me how little I actually know about the man.

I sat with him in the den on countless occasions, searching for something to talk about, some common ground, but we were so different. I was an athlete and avid sports fan and he's a fisherman and musician. There were often times we sat in silence and just stared at the TV.

It all came crashing on me when I ran into their house after a 10-mile, 80 mph trek across town to be there after that fateful phone call. There he was, on the floor, his body covered with a blanket. The breathing tube was still protruding from his mouth. It was more than I could bare. I wanted that tube out and I wanted it out right then. I bowed down next to him and said a quick prayer. Tomorrow had come, but it was still today.

Tomorrow. What a word. It means we anticipated something and it's arrogant for us to think that way. We have no guarantees in life. Certainly not for tomorrow, or in the next hour, or even 15 minutes.

Tomorrow, we will bury my dad. I wish I had a thousand tomorrows but I only have right now. I want my kids to know who I am. I hope I have some tomorrows to share with my grandchildren. I want them to know who I am and how much I love them. My grandchildren are just a concept but I already love them and have visions for their futures. But there I go again. That's one big tomorrow. I have the here and now and I better get busy letting people know how much I love them. I really better listen to what God is saying. He's given me so many lessons, but I always take the Scarlett O'Hara way out.

"Tomorrow's another day." Maybe so, but today's not over. It's 14 minutes until tomorrow so I better get busy telling my kids I love them. I think I'll do just that.

That's my BIG confession for TODAY! What's yours?

God bless you!!!




TFR

There's Always Tomorrow

Real Men

Where have they gone? Is the cut of a John Wayne just a memory, or does such a man actually exist in today's feel-good-at-all-costs world?

What are we doing to our boys that makes them such wimps? I'm around kids all day long and I have girls with more intestinal fortitude than some of my boys. It's scary. Our society is turning boys into whiney, little wonders. It makes me worry about what our country will look like in 20 years when these "young men" grow up, if they grow up.

I do teach some wonderful kids and many I'd be proud to raise, but when you encounter such utter frailty in boys on a regular basis it begs you to wonder why.

My own theory is that today's parents are the ones that got sand kicked in their faces when they were in elementary school. These guys were raised in a world that is increasingly self-serving; therefore, they spend more time thinking about themselves than others and have never said no to their children. This breed of parent has sheltered their boys to the point where Cowboys and Indians is not something you play, but just a bunch of characters in a history book.

As a child, I played games like War, Cops and Robbers, Cowboys and Indians, and, God forbid, Dodge Ball. We kept score and there were winners and losers. If anyone got knocked down, we didn't cry, we didn't run to our counselor, we just dusted ourselves off and got back into game.

Arguments were settled after school, with our fists, and they didn't last long. We soon forgot the genesis of the dispute and were quickly friends again. We played with "action figures," not cell phones. A scrape was considered a badge of honor, not a reason to escape P.E.

Oh, and we played baseball all summer long, all day long. We learned to hit a curveball by actually swinging at a "real" ball, not one on an X-Box. Only the best nine, the best 11, or the best five were allowed into the game. If you wanted to play you had to work to win your position. It wasn't given to you because of a rule made by parent that didn't get to play, like in today's ultra-sophisticated metro-world.

In short, we were tough and scrappy, even the least of us, which sometimes I was. My mom didn't bail me out of every rough situation I got myself into. She let me learn from my mistakes, which were many. I got burned, I bled, but I didn't quit.

Where have the future real men gone? Thanks to an America that's afraid of its own shadow our boys can't use their finger as a gun. They can't run around shouting "bang-bang" in school or else it'll be locked down and CNN will carry the story.

I'm a parent that has raised his girls to be tough and fend for themselves because they are entering a world that doesn't care about their lame excuses. I'm not Mr. Perfect, but I pray for a real man for each of my girls to marry. Not some wimp that will hide under the bed at every spooky noise or run home to mommy when things don't work out. I want a real man as my son-in-law and the father of my grandchildren.

If you're reading this and you have a son, let him experience the fun of sliding into a base and getting a strawberry. Let that sucker sting and don't automatically try to make it all better. Let your son dream he's the cop that takes down the bad guy. Raise your son to embrace his fears instead of running from them and to know that anger is a normal part of being a man when used for the right purpose.

We need our young boys to grow into strong young men and not cry every time things don't go their way.

Okay Adrienne, there's my rant for the day. I confess, I can't stand cry-babies, whether they are middle schoolers or adults. Grow up, do your job, and quit whining. God didn't make us to be sissies. He made me to be a man and to act like one.

That's my confession...what's yours?




TFR

A Nice "Pat" on the Rear

Maybe I should say "kick in the rear." My Cowboys looked pretty bad near the end of the game today. The Patriots are clearly a superior club, even without audio-visual assistance. Top spy Bill Belichek pretty much had the Boys number.

I guess that's the wisdom that comes from winning three Super Bowls. Even when your team falls behind, there's no need to panic. Mr. GQ,Tom Brady, looked all of his reputation as a man who will cut your heart out.

Needless to say, there were a lot of disappointed Dallas fans in my house this evening, but we'll get over it. Now that this game is out of the way, Dallas can get on with winning the NFC East. Looks like the AFC will have another Super Bowl winner again.

On to other things. My buddy Jason has lost 51 pounds and I'm really proud of him. Having lost 100 pounds before myself, I know this is no easy task and I give him all the props. Hang in there, Dude. It's a tough battle but you'll be glad you fought it. The real challenge is coming in the form of three significant holidays all involving candies, cakes, and goodies. Stay the course and you'll be fine.

My good friend Adrienne wants to know where my rants have gone, well...all I can say is two words...Al Gore. I could rant all night about that guy, but that might waste the precious energy he's so desperately trying to conserve. After all, he did invent global warming.

Now for the lighter side. We are around 11 weeks from Christmas and in the 8th week of school. Time is moving fast and I'm glad. Before long it'll be cold and Thanksgiving will be here. And then, one of my favorite times of year will be here--Bowl Season!

To all my half-dozen, or so, faithful readers, I bid you a great week. Hang in there and give me shout out now and then.

God bless you!!!



TFR

H.R. Runnin' Stuff

Way back when I first began blogging, I wrote about reviewing running gear. Since I'm a fat runner, but getting skinnier, I try to buy running shoes and clothes that will hold up to my weight and body frame.

The other day, and because I'm training for another long, long run for diabetes, I went searching for some shoes that would carry me the long haul. Dean Karnazes, The Ultramarathon Man, designed a pair shoes specifically for the ultramarathoner, but they are well suited for someone like me, as well. Noticing our local bike and trail shop carried these bad boys, I trucked it over for a look-see.

The North Face Arnuva 50 Boa running shoes are a match made in Heaven for me. There's no conventional laces to fuss with. Rather, the laces are integrated and controlled by this really cool dial in the heel of the shoe. I tried these puppies on and was instantly hooked. With a $125 price tag I knew I'd have to save a little cash to get them, but I'm on my way back this week to grab them. They are light, but stable--a plus for someone over 200 lbs. I really dig the lacing system.

If you get a chance, go to The North Face web site and check them out. As soon as I get them on and start running on the treadmill, I'll give you more details. The store let me test drive them and they are sweet.

After last year's 50 mile run/walk for diabetes, I discovered performance wear. I've always been a t-shirt and jersey shorts wearer. I graduated into mesh shorts a few years ago, but it wasn't until training for my ultra-long run did I embrace performance shirts and shorts with moisture-wicking fibers. So, now I snatch up gear like that anytime I find them on sale. I scored three shirts and two pairs of shorts today for around $4 a piece. This was high-dollar stuff but with fall arriving, our local stores start clearancing summerwear out. Problem is, it was 90 degrees in Amarillo today so fall really isn't here. My gain!

I guess that's one of the things I like most about running...the clothes, shoes, and gear. It's fun to get dressed and hit the road. It gives me a sense of confidence and good self-esteem that I don't always find when I'm at work.

Let me know what shoes you wear and tell me about the gear you use when working out. As runners, we should pass along helpful information. If you have any advice regarding training for being on your feet for 12 hours, let me hear it. I'm heading that way so I need all the help I can get.

May God bless you with great running!



TFR

Rules for Living

Howdy from Texas-land! I've been a little out of action the last few weeks. Life has been busy. My youngest daughter had another stint in the hospital with complications stemming from her diabetes and then my stepfather was diagnosed with liver cancer. Needless to say, it's been rather hectic in our world.

So, I'm trying to get myself back into the blogging game. I really miss the four or five faithful readers I've acquired along the way. I hope those numbers grow as I launch back into regular blogging again.

My good friend and colleague, Adrienne, asked me why I hadn't been blogging. She said she "missed my rants." Hmm. I guess I'm back to resume my ranting, Adrienne. I'll try not to go on aimlessly, but give everyone food for thought and hopefully encourage discussion.

Soon, I will have an announcement about some things we are doing to raise money for diabetes research, but I'll save that once all the plans have been finalized.

Tonight, and after some thought and reflection, I figured I'd write something good since this is my first blog in weeks. I mean, I don't just want to come out and write some mindless dribble. This needs to be the product of time spent pensively pouring over my existence.

If you're a football fan, and if you caught my Dallas Cowboys barely escaping with their lives in Buffalo last Monday night, perhaps you watched the pre-game show. Bill Parcells, former Cowboys head coach, revealed his 11 Commandments for being an effective quarterback in the NFL. This got me to thinking.

I have this mantra I often say to my students as they leave my room, "The world is your oyster, go cultivate the pearl." I started examining who I am and what I stand for. When you teach careers to a bunch of 8th graders, sometimes the kids want to know what you think. Sometimes they surprise me when they ask for a nugget of wisdom that will help them as they pursue their dreams. Tonight, I offer you MY 11 Commandments, or rules, for living. Here goes...

1. To your own self be true. Honesty, integrity, courage--these qualities make the man.

2. Money isn't anything. Sure, we all need money to survive...just don't worship it.

3. Love God with all your heart and everything will fall into place.

4. Marry for love, not stuff. Relationships are about the heart, not the wallet.

5. Never, ever stop learning. Always be a student.

6. Life is a journey--enjoy the ride, even if it gets rough. It's the rough that makes you appreciate the smooth.

7. Do your job, follow instructions. Whether you're a son, daughter, student, spouse, employee, parent--just do your job and you'll do fine.

8. Be a crisis manager, not a drama queen. The world has more than enough drama queens and too few real leaders.

9. Find a mentor/be a mentor. There's always someone out there that knows more than you and always someone you can help.

10. Serve your community. Be a good citizen and take care of those around you. Leave the world a better place.

11. Always remember, when no one else is watching...God is. Live a life above reproach.

There they are, my 11 Commandments. I'm no Bill Parcells. I'm just a husband, dad, teacher, son, brother, student, friend, and many other things. I've lived 43 years, which isn't long compared to others or the universe, but I've been burned by life. I've enjoyed the greatest victories and lowest defeats. I've got a nice big handstamp on the roller coaster of life.

I just thought I'd share this with you. Hope it helps. Let me know what you think.

That's my confession...what's yours?

My God bless you with an abundant life.



TFR

Honk If You're Stupid!

My buddy Jason has been battling his weight for some time now. I'm proud of his progress in the gym and tonight he gave me some food for thought. Better yet--ammo for my next blog.

Jason decided to go for a run the other day while waiting for some car repairs at a local tire store. The location he embarked from is in a rather busy section of our city. Traffic can be tough over there, as I can well attest from my own running experiences in that area.

It's great just hearing Jason set out to run, knowing he's been working hard to lose weight. He reminds me a lot of my own struggle to get below 300 pounds and then gingerly attempting to run. Did you catch that play on words, Jason--"gingerly?" Anyway, here's a guy who has taken the leap and is really making an effort to change his lifestyle.

Tonight, at our church small group, Jason told me that during his run he was confronted by a carload of rocket scientists, honking their horn and screaming at him. I've been there, done that and it's infuriating.

How many of us have dealt with some gem of the gene pool that thinks they need to make a spectacle of themselves at the expense of a runner? Let's see...you're in a car, maybe smoking a cigarette, and we're out there running. Hmmm...Jack LaLanne you ain't. You aren't Stephen Hawking, either. In fact, people that act like this make Ernest T. Bass look like a Rhodes Scholar.

I have a little advice for Jason and anyone else that might be out there running and putting up with the Small Brain Club. I know it's hard to let stuff like that slide because I want to smack someone like that across their smart mouths, but you just can't. This may be our only chance to show Christ to this person. There is a way to handle this where everyone wins. If you ever get your chance to confront someone, do it in a Christ-like manner, demonstrating to them why we run and why it's wrong for someone to do this to us.

Runners are a fraternity. We share a common bond when we're out there on the road. As drivers, we're a little more mindful when we see someone running than we would be otherwise. In short, we get it. Maybe what we need to do is help others get it too.

All we can do is control our own actions. But we can make everyone else aware of how vulnerable we feel when it's just us against the environment. All we have a is a pair of running shoes, not a 2000 lb. loaded weapon.

If you're reading my blog and you're not a runner, please watch out for us. We're out there running because we love it, we want to do it, and it will keep us healthy. Don't punish us for wanting a better life. We respect you. Please respect us.

May God bless you with a safe road ahead.

Ever Forward!!!



TFR

Running and Barbecue

Do those two things go together? When you live in the Texas Panhandle you bet they do! What a weird topic for discussion, but I have to tell you, I always feel a hundred pounds heavier and another step slower after chowing on BBQ.

I wonder if someone ever thought of having a 5k run and barbecue cook-off at the same event? Seems counterproductive, doesn't it? I might just have to do that.

For an extrovert, I'm pretty careful about revealing my life and thoughts to very many people. But here I am, on the WWW, sharing things I never thought I'd say. I am an extremely outspoken person, just ask me and I'll tell you what I think. But when it comes to my deep, personal feelings I don't often share such things aloud.

Most of the time, I feel pretty guilty when I slam a big meal. If you read my profile, you'll see I used to weigh over 300 lbs. When I got down to just under 200, I began to understand what anorexics experience. Looking in the mirror I still saw the same fat dude I faced every day. Nothing had changed. It was as if I couldn't see myself thin.

This went on for months and every time I ate I felt guilty. I deprived myself of the foods I loved, like BBQ and pizza. To this day, I still can't bring myself to eat more than a bite of my favorite pizza. Even then, the first thing I think of is getting out the door and working it off.

I think running and barbecue and pizza can all co-exist. It's taken me a long time to reach that accord with myself. I know I will never be this rail thin, exquisitely cut athlete, but I still strive to look and feel the best I can as I approach my mid-40's.

For a guy who tipped the scales at 315, I've come a long way. I had barbecue tonight and I loved it. And for once, maybe I might even love myself for who I am.

I'm a heavy runner that fights the daily struggle to stay motivated to do the things I do. I want to run my 5k's and let the marathons take care of themselves.

Maybe, just maybe, I'll create the R-n-B 5k. Not rhythm and blues, but "Running and Barbecue."

The Meatball Marathon is still in the planning stages.

God bless you all with great running.

Ever Forward!!!




TFR

Race for the Cure

After writing my most chilling blog yet (I still have goosebumps from the imagery), I thought I'd follow-up with something a little more positive.

I signed up to run The Race for the Cure here in Amarillo. As you know, I am adamant about diabetes research, but I lost my grandmother to cancer almost 20 years ago. I have numerous friends that have been affected by cancer in some form or fashion.

I figured it's worth running a 5k if it'll help with a cure for cancer. So, a few Saturdays from now, I'll get out there and run a blistering 10-minute per mile (hopefully better) 3.1 miles. I only hope no one's behind me because I want no one injured from the vapor trail. After all, this is a fun run.

Get out there and walk, run, crawl, or hop to champion a cause. It's a great way to raise money and get some exercise.

You can go to the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure web site to find an event near you.

Oh, and keep reading for upcoming news about my 8-hour nutfest on the treadmill to raise money and awareness for juvenile diabetes.

Please share my blog with others. I want to hear from you. Write me!

May God bless you with great running.

Ever Forward!!!




TFR

Educate and Stay Alert

It's all over the net. What is it? It's the buzz about "The Perfect Day," as exposed by CNN talk-show host Glenn Beck. I must admit, I never heard of this until watching his show.

I am a conservative and watch Beck's program often. I am also a teacher, which makes me a researcher, by nature. I try not to jump to conclusions and do my best to investigate issues. As an educator, I was alarmed at what I learned from watching the Glenn Beck program.

"The Perfect Day," is a term that describes the time a mass terrorist attack is launched by Al-Queda in the U.S. The principal targets of this attack will be our children and our schools. As demonstrated in the Breslin, Russia attack last year, radicals will use any means necessary to further their cause, even killing innocent children.

I took it upon myself to do an internet search by Googling the phrase, "The Perfect Day." Many counterterrorism watchdog groups are calling for Americans to be on the alert, citing the discovery of evidence pointing to a possible wide-scale attack on schools in America. Such evidence includes stolen school radios, missing school buses in Houston, videos confiscated in Iraq and Afghanistan, and the list goes on and on.

Check it out for yourself by doing a search on the internet and see what you come up with. I don't care what political affiliation you claim, we cannot be lax when it comes to school safety. Even the slightest hint of such atrocities aimed at our children must be taken seriously. I, for one, am going to ask my principal if he has seen or heard any of the story on Glenn Beck and what are our plans at our school to prepare for such an event. I will also present this question to a school board member I know.

As citizens, parents, grandparents, teachers, we must not let this slide. This is a very personal issue as I have one child in high school, another in college, and my wife and I teach in a fairly large school district. It concerns me when I hear there is a real threat to our personal safety at work.

The goal of The Perfect Day, as explained by Bernard Kerik, former NYPD Commissioner and now security consultant, is to create chaos and mass hysteria. The result of this outrage would be the savage retaliation of Americans against Muslim-American citizens, including the bombing and desecration of mosques. The belief by terrorism-watching organizations is that radical Muslims, like Osama Bin Ladin, would use the images of these retaliatory acts as propaganda to further the cause of Al-Queda. Even Glenn Beck said he expected Americans to behave as "animals" in response to seeing our children mass-murdered nationwide.

My call to you is this, my friends: Preparation is not paranoia. There will be some, myself included, that will branded as paranoid nuts. But, can we really afford to not be ready in the event this does happen? To do that is to live as we did on September 10th. Because 24 hours later, our world changed forever. The next 9-11 is out there. It's waiting like a championship boxer for us to drop our hands. Only these guys have no mercy and hit below the belt.

Approach your local school administration and ask them the tough questions that need to be raised. Attend a school board meeting and get this issue on the agenda. Talk to local government officials and law enforcement about what plans they have to combat something like this. And above all, pray to God we never have to face such a tragedy as this.

With diligence, strength, and courage we can stop "The Perfect Day" before it ever happens. Every day should be a perfect day for our kids. Let's guarantee it stays that way.

God bless you all with safe lives.

Ever Forward!!!




The Fat Runner

Fat Running

I recently saw a picture of myself taken at the Walk for Diabetes and all I could say was, "Whoa, I am fat!"

I'm sure people look at me and find it hard to believe I'm a runner. There are days when I can't believe it either. My weight has always been a struggle for me. At the beginning of 2007, largely due to a bacterial infection in my stomach, I dropped 10 pounds. 9 months later I've gained it back.

While I know I'm heavy, I still manage to run a sub 10-minute pace and log anywhere from 15-20 miles a week. So, I don't feel too badly about carrying around the extra weight. Besides, this wouldn't be "Confessions of a Fat Runner" if I got down to 160 lbs. and looked a beanpole.

I'm proud of my ability to run. I know where I've come from and I'm excited about where God is taking me next.

I'll keep laboring down the streets of Amarillo, content with each slow step I take and happy in the knowledge I'm in a select group of people who get out each day and pound the pavement because they want to do it.

Runners are weird bunch. We wear strange clothes, sometimes look like dorks when we run, and garner puzzled looks from people in casual conversations when the word gets out we LIKE running. But, there's nothing like the serenity and solitude of the sounds of your footsteps meeting asphalt and the shallow puffs of breath moving in and out of your lungs.

Running is just you against you and no one else and that's why I love doing it. It's like playing solitaire with a pair of Nikes, instead of Kings.

I confess--I'm a running junkie. And proud to say so. Maybe I'll lose some weight, or have some more pretzels while I'm typing this. I can always run them off , huh?

That's my confession--what's yours?

God bless you and ever forward!!!



TFR

Running for Diabetes

With school off to a flying start, I've neglected one of my favorite new things to do--blog. With the weekend being here and the kickoff of the NFL season, I've spent most of the day being a guy and watching football.

Yesterday morning, my family and friends came together as a team to walk for diabetes. It was a beautiful morning here in Amarillo. We had rain overnight and the morning air was damp and cool. I would rather have been hugging my pillow at 9:00 am on a Saturday morning, but when you've got a wife and kid that have diabetes you become a crusader, of sorts.

I think I told you how I ran/walked/death-crawled 50 miles last year to raise money and awareness for diabetes. 3 miles seemed such a short distance to travel, but for the 1000+ walkers that showed for Saturday's walk, it was a giant step closer to ending this dreaded disease. My team, Melissa' Marvelous Miracles, raised $630. I'm sure the final tally for the walk will be in the thousands.

Today's blog centers around my hope that diabetes will be cured in the near future--tomorrow would be nice--and my plans to do all I can to bring that to reality.

The other day, while running at the gym, a staff member for our local chapter of the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation (JDRF) asked me if I would be willing to run on the treadmill for a little bit if she could get the corporate sponsors to pay per mile. Little bit equals 8 hours. All I could say was, "When do we start?" In case you haven't noticed, I'm nuts. I'll do anything, anywhere, at anytime to cure my daughter. As such, I also have pitched an idea to the local JDRF director about me running/walking/bike running from Amarillo, TX to Washington, DC next summer. I'm waiting for her to approach the board with this for a response.

I don't know about you, but I don't think I've ever had a true calling in life until now. I'm a teacher, but I don't feel a calling to education. Yes, I've been called to be a follower of Christ, but when I look at my life's work there just hasn't been the "calling" I hear so many others say they've experienced in life, like teaching or missionary work.

But now, with a daughter facing real life and death health issues as a type 1 diabetic, my calling is crystal clear. It came to me while running this afternoon in my fave running spot--Wolflin. Finding the cure for diabetes has got to be my passion. Nothing else matters but helping my daughter and wife overcome this. My stepfather has already lost two toes due to complications with his diabetes and I know dozens that are afflicted and struggling with similar issues.

Therefore, I will run to Washington, or New York, or Timbuktu for that matter if it brings about a speedy end to what over 14 million Americans face each and every day.

If I were to ask 100 people to raise their hands if they knew someone with diabetes, or they were afflicted, my guess is almost the whole group would have their hands in the air.

If you don't have it, someone you know does. There are over 20 million out there undiagnosed so they are all around you. It's a time bomb waiting to go off. In my daughter's case, it exploded one December day. The shrapnel left its scars on her body and in her mind.

So, I will keep running for diabetes as long and as far as necessary. I hope you will join us as we fight this battle. It's a battle we're going to win, for my daughter's sake and the sake of many of my students, parents, and family members.

Diabetes is one battle worth fighting and we WILL triumph. The stakes are high, the margins slim, and the payoff will be jubilant.

Take care and may God bless you.

Ever Forward!!!



TFR

The Power of the Net

Though I've only been blogging for a relatively short time, God has done some amazing things through my site. He has bridged my world into the worlds of other bloggers and for that I'm thankful.

Take my new friend Carly. She's a blogger and also a teacher, an art teacher--whoa! She has a great story and I'm blessed to have met her. Had I not started my blog site last month I would be less two new friends. It's just cool when you begin to see the real power of the net in action and how it can be used as a tool for God.

Carly, I am thankful. You reminded me what my life is supposed to be about and it's not the treasures of this earth. I am called, as a Christian, to serve others as I serve Christ. I'm not supposed to get caught up in the worldly worries, but transcend above that in the unspeakable joy that comes from a relationship with God.

So, I'll not worry that I didn't get a promotion this summer. God has grander plans in store for me. In my little mind, I can't comprehend all the God is going to do, but I know he's working on it right now, as I type.

I thank God for Carly and Steven and all the others he is going to bring into my life through this blog site.

Whether it's running, blogging, teaching, or whatever you do, do it for the Lord and do it with joy.

May God bless you all with an abundance of happiness.

Ever Forward!!!




TFR

Runnin' Against the Wind

If you live in the Texas Panhandle you're always running against the wind. Regardless of what you may have heard, Amarillo is THE windy city. In fact, according to a study by the American Meteorological Society, Amarillo beat Chicago as the windiest city in America.

Amarillo is the only city where the wind blows from every direction at once. You'll start to do an out and back run, thinking, "If I run against the wind out, I'll have it at my back coming home." Yeah, right! Start out, turn around, there it is again. Sometimes it feels like the wind is blowing straight down from the sky. How does that happen?

Alberto Salazar, the famous runner and now coach, said there is absolutely no benefit to running against the wind and I believe him. When you're a fat runner you have more surface area for wind to hit.

Okay, so how did I get on this subject? Living and running in Amarillo makes you constantly aware of the weather conditions since we don't have those pesky trees to deflect the wind like people do in real parts of the world. Oh, and we don't have mountains to block our view, either.

What do we have? How about some of the friendliest people anywhere. And arguably the most beautiful sunsets around. Yeah, granted the sun isn't setting behind an ocean, but the sky is spectacular at sunset here. The final scene of Indiana Jones and the Final Crusade, where the main characters rode off into the sunset, was shot just outside Amarillo. Bet you didn't know that.

When you get down to it, this may not be the greatest place to run, but I'll take it. I like my little corner of the world and I'm not leaving it anytime soon.

It's fun running down the street and hearing my name being shouted by my past and present students. You get waves from people you don't even know, but such is Amarillo. And I like it just fine.

That's my confession...what's yours?

God bless and Ever Forward!!!



TFR

Once More, With Feeling

Sorry about my last post. It had been a frustrating day which was sort of the capper of an even more frustrating summer. How can I purport to be this Christian man when I'm puking my guts out about my job? I vow to try harder. You, my wonderful readers, all 4 of you, deserve better.

Today was a much better day at Happy School for the Gifted and Criminally Lazy. As my fellow blogger and art teacher can attest, the first week is always the toughest. Rules must be set and we have to learn a whole new batch of names.

I had a really good run, but it was on the fake road, or treadmill as you might call it. There is nothing like hitting the road, or the belt, to work off the stress of a long day. Running is my medicine.

Fall is approaching and I can't wait for the terrific runs that are waiting to happen. I'm so anticipating the coolness that will soon be here.

Once again, I apologize for my rant last night. Let's get on with more pressing things like the pennant race and kickoff of the college football season this weekend.

Who's your favorite college football team? Mine are the Longhorns, of course. I have a great idea I'd like to pitch to UT and its fans. Instead of coming to the Red River Shootout wearing burnt orange, I suggest all Texas fans wear Boise State t-shirts in honor of their victory over OU last bowl season. Now wouldn't that be something? Just imagine, half of the Cotton Bowl awash in a sea of Broncho blue. Problem is OU would most likely get so angry they would kill Texas 60-0. It's still a funny idea, you have to admit.

Write and tell me who you'll be rooting for this season. I love your comments.

God bless and Ever Forward!!!



TFR

Long Time, No See

My computer went all chicken fried the other day, so I've been offline for a while. Well, I've got a new PC and I'm back in business.

What's new? Let's see, school has started in earnest. We are off and running. Here's how my first day went. It's 8:15 am and I'm addressing my first period sixth grade babies and in walks my next door neighbor, also an art teacher. One of her special ed students was having an episode and kicking his assistant that works with him. So, I went in and removed him from class. After 15 minutes of restraining this kid and having him grab my tie, which is a big no-no, I was sweaty and in a bad mood. The year will be pretty much downhill from there.

Since this is called Confessions of a Fat Runner, I have a confession for you: I can't stand my job! Don't get me wrong. I have some wonderful kids and that I really do care about, but overall, I don't want to be a teacher anymore. I have never felt a true "calling" into the profession. I've kind of painted myself into a corner by getting a Master's degree in Education. That and $1 will get you a cup of coffee. I don't see a lot of options for me, or future in the teaching business, for that matter.

For as long as I can remember I've wanted to be a lawyer. I can recall being a teenager and being captivated by law programs on television. I wanted to know everything I could about law. You'd think I would've gone into something like that since it was my dream to be an attorney, but my life took some very strange turns that kept me from pursuing that desire.

Without revealing too much about myself (you never know who is reading this), I was a lousy stinking bum coming out of high school. I was lucky to graduate and it took some creative grade juggling on the part of my counselor to get me through. I was smart--too smart-- and terribly lazy.

I've always struggled with self-esteem issues, which is probably why I've always been fat. At one time in my life I ballooned over 315 lbs. I didn't want to work and I squandered my financial aid in college. My first years in a university were an absolute waste. My high school counselor bought me a second chance and I wasted it.

I met my wife in college and I still didn't straighten out. It was like I was in this stupor that rendered me incapable of wanting anything for my life. I cared about very little, including God. This all left me pretty apathetic to life and very down about my future.

Fast forward almost 15 years later. I walked across the stage at age 37, finally receiving my Bachelor's degree in Business. Business? What the heck did I know about business? It was a means to an end and it got me out of school. From there, and since I had been working for our school district anyway, I decided to get a teaching certificate. While working on that certificate I stayed in and completed the coursework for a Master's. 3 years and $30,000 in student loans later I received my second degree.

I've come to the realization my Master's has been an utter waste of time. If you don't move into administration you get very little compensation for an advanced degree in my profession. It's a shame. In a business that works to shape the minds of our future leaders, we get nothing for working our tails off to further our own education.

I interviewed 7 times this summer for an administration position, striking out every time. I walked back into my classroom defeated, with little self-esteem or motivation to teach. Right now, I don't even know what my next move will be. I'm pretty lost.

That brings me to what I mentioned earlier--being a lawyer. How can a 43-year old man, with a mortgage, and two car payments, find a way to go to law school? If you have any ideas, please let me know. I desperately want to do this, but I don't know how to make it work. I want my wife, who has taught for 19 years and is growing more discouraged with her job each day, to be able to quit and stay home.

Now you see my dilemma. I want to live and believe Paul's words that everything is "rubbish" but it's so hard to do when your heart desires something more, something greater. It's not about the money. It's about being happy with what I do and I'll never be happy teaching.

I guess I'll run and think and maybe run some more. Now if I could find a way to earn a living from running, I'd do that in a heartbeat. But when you're a fat runner, you're lucky all you get to do is teach, I guess.

That's my confession--what's yours?

Send me your ideas. I've love to hear them.

God bless and ever forward!



TFR