Half way home and feeling good about life
June 1 brought with it my brother John's birthday... Hey, congrats bro!... But in addition, it ushered in a monumental achievement in my effort to walk 1,000 miles in 2011.
That's right readers, I have soundly crashed through the mid-way point on my trek to 1,000, blasting past 500 miles on June 1. Wooohoooo!
I didn't think I'd get so excited over it, but it's kind of weird how, when you have a goal that lasts for an entire year, you get a little more pumped up over the little things along the way.
Not that 500 is a little thing. Not counting the miles I walked by accident, that would be 500 miles more than I walked in 2010. Awesome!
However, with every winning tiny accomplishment, there is always something there to put you back in your place and make you realize that you aren't that super human being you thought you were. As I made my way around The Loop, my favorite walking track around Benton which entails an exact three-mile stretch, I passed Vaughn Troyer, out for a little warm-up run of, well, probably about eight miles. Troyer is one of those freaks of nature who totally enjoys running... just gets lost in it.
So here I am, all thrilled with my achievement, and he comes trucking past, running of course, not even breaking a sweat, talking to me like he just got done giving some guy a quote on his insurance.
Well, put me back in my place!
But you know what? That's his gig, not mine. Maybe someday I will be the one running, who knows?
For now, I am thrilled for Vaughn that he found something so worthwhile that he loves doing, and as for me, I am happy right where I am... for now... plugging along at a walking pace, and actually enjoying my time getting some exercise. After all, we all gotta start somewhere.
What do they say, you can't walk before you crawl? Well, you can't run before you walk either. Guys like Vaughn simply serve as a catalyst for folks like me to strive for.
Thanks Vaughn!
OK, now, as you can see, I am right on track to reach Denver, Colo., a quick little 1,200-mile jaunt, by the end of the year. Wife, Ann, is now 200 miles ahead of me, but needs to pick it up to reach San Diego. Now that school is out, she will really kick it in gear, and I can root her on as she goes for the West Coast (a goal which was implemented by me, not her, by the way).
So, where in the world are we at this point?
I feel sorry for Ann, because she is now in the midst of walking through Kansas. We had a little running joke with traveling partner Keith Troyer as we went to Missouri for our Senior League Baseball Regional last year.
The cell phone would ring, an answer, and then...
"Hey, where are you guys?"
"We're on a flat stretch of road with corn fields on both sides."
Fifteen minutes later, we'd get the same routine, with the exact same answer. The only way to tell a difference was because the mile markers on the side of the road would change every 5,280 feet.
If this wasn't some visual-walk, and we were trekking it for real, Ann would be facing ears of corn in her sleep as she passes through the flat, flat, flat corn belt of the central U.S. She just got into Kansas. My apologies to Darren Blochlinger if I have offended him concerning anything Jayhawkish.
Anyway, c'mon Hon, we're pulling for you to reach the sandy beaches of San Diego before the new year.
As for me, I am now cruising into the city of Quincy, Ill., which borders upon the mighty Mississippi River, and, oddly enough, happens to be just 20 miles from Canton. According to the Quincy Chamber of Commerce website, Quincy is the greatest city ever, in the world. Known as the Gem City for its sparkling reputation, it has been called home by the likes of pudgy, portly Major League pitcher Rick Reuschel of Cubbie fame (who evidently would have benefited from my WalK program), silent screen actress Mary Astor, and most importantly, Paul Tibbets, the pilot who had the honor of dropping the big one on Hiroshima on Aug. 5, 1945. Congrats Paul! That's gotta be something that helps you sleep at night.
One last thing: I walked to my son's Little League game in Holmesville (five miles - cha-ching!) a few nights ago, and had plenty of people honking as they went by. It definitely sounded like the happy kind of honk, like, "Hey, there's Dave, let's cheer him on... toot, toot!" and not the angry "Hey idiot, get the heck off the road so us cars can get through without worry, kind of "HONKKKK! HONNKKKKK!"
And to the owner of that red 2007 Ford Taurus, I assume you don't want that sack of McDonald's trash back that you hit me in the back of the head with. Oh, and by the way, those remaining crumbs in the bottom of the fries were awesome!
Hey, enough of this banter, I got some walking to do.