Just sayin'...it's Christmas

 Do you remember the little Maple tree behind my clinic? I’ve written about it several times. It’s the one that was planted when we built the Cherokee sports complex. It must be a dwarf Maple because it really hasn’t gotten very big. 

It sits beside where I park. I like to wax philosophically based on the condition of that tree. In spring, when it buds, I think about life renewed. In full leaf, it bursts with life. My favorite is the fall when it turns yellow. Brilliant, vibrant yellow.

Right now, my little tree has lost most of its leaves. There are a few dull yellow leaves on the bottom but it’s mostly bare. Winter is arriving.

I told you about the passing of my friend Rat last week and it would be easy for me to muse on the winter of our lives. The week before that I told you about my last MHS football game so it might be easy for me to get all melancholy on you.

But that’s not me. I love life. I love what I do. My 67 year old self spent an afternoon this week bombing down mountain bike trails with a 70 year old friend and I defy anyone to guess our ages by how we ride.

On Monday, I celebrated 43 years working as a physical therapist. It’s still the best gig in town. And despite rumors to the contrary, I’m not retiring. Not yet, anyway. One day. Maybe.

At the end of the day, when I go home and my wife greets me with “Joesie!” my life is complete. And when a grandchild does the same or use my other grandfather moniker Daddy Joe…well, it doesn’t get any better than that.

So in the spirit of reflection and meditations on life, here are my Christmas words for you. Not advice. Not wishes. Just my thoughts.

Live the life you love. Don’t work just to pay the bills and get to the day when you can finally retire. Things don’t matter. Yes, money matters when you don’t have enough but I can honestly say I’ve never worked for money.

If you play a sport, put everything that you’ve got into it. Don’t let anyone outwork you. If you’re not passionate about it, find something else. It can be one of the most rewarding things you’ll ever do with life lessons that can permeate everything you ever do.

When I played, I was a pretty good football player. Later, I played a lot of basketball and I got pretty good at that too. I’m pretty decent on the bicycle these days. But don’t mistake me for a good athlete. I’m not. I was not. I’ve never been.

By working hard, being persistent as all get out, and never quitting, I became good at those things. Anybody can do the same. I’m absolute proof of that. And I did learn those life lessons from sports that have served me well for a very long time.

In school, never accept anything but your absolute best. My only distinction in high school was that I was the smartest football player. Academics meant little to me. Yet, along the way, I discovered that I was smarter than they had told me that I was. After that, the sky was the limit.

Seek out people that support you and support your dreams. I was told “you can’t do that” so many times that eventually I just removed it from my lexicon. If you’re around positive people, you can’t help but be positive yourself. Same thing about negative people. It’s hard to be happy around Eeyore.

Wake up every morning and take assessment of all the good things in your life. Think about all the opportunities for changing your world and then go take advantage of them. If you’re looking for them, they’ll be there.

Live happy. Live full. Live blessed.

RIP Rat

His name was Rat. I did a column years ago about him and I had to call and ask him what his given name was. He told me George Long but that no one knew him by that. I don’t know when he became Rat, but I’ve never known him as anything else.

He died last weekend from Covid. Let me tell you about my friend Rat. He would do anything for anybody. He loved people and he loved life. His smile was contagious. And he loved riding bicycles.

I first met him maybe 20 years ago while riding in the Tour de Blount. I saw this biker sitting under a tree next to the parking lot of Cedar Grove Baptist Church on Nails Creek Road. For some reason, I will always remember the spot where I first met the Rat.

He appeared to be having some difficulty so I pulled in to check on him. He had just started biking and had succumbed to heat and humidity. The Tour de Blount was his first big ride and he was struggling a bit. He was OK, just needing a break and some fluids, so I went on my way.

Over the next few years, we became great friends because of our common love of bicycling and (more importantly) of bicyclists.  We spent many hours biking together, climbing The Wall on Montvale Road many times and covering thousands of miles around rural Blount County.

And we rode year round. On one particularly cold winter morning, I remember Rat and I checking out the icy slush in our water bottles. As he got older, Rat dropped out of our regular Saturday rides and then switched to a bit slower group on the weekly Cycology rides. A wonderful friend named Jackie Taylor took Rat under her wing about that time and made sure he was safe.

Once there was a local guy whose bicycle, his only means of transportation, was destroyed in a collision with a car. Rat bought him a new bike. When he heard of a kid in East Knox County that needed a bike, a kid none of us knew, Rat bought him a bike.

When I admired the bike rack in the back of his truck, he found my truck parked at Coulter’s Bridge, measured the truck bed, and the next thing I know I’ve got a new bike rack in the back of my truck. When I traded trucks, he built another to fit the larger bed. When there was a fundraiser, Rat was there with a checkbook. He would literally give you the shirt off his back.

For his 80^th birthday, there was a large group of riders that met and rode from the bike shop to Elkmont where his family had prepared a party for all. Rat, Jackie, and a few others rode from Townsend to Elkmont, a respectable distance for anybody. But remember, Rat was 80.

He was incredibly fit for a man of 80 and although he had a few health problems, he was definitely a tough bird. But this Covid thing doesn’t pay any attention to all that. It strikes indiscriminately and sometimes viciously.

For those of you that think that this Covid virus was going to take only those that were weak and frail, shame on you. For those of you that think that Covid isn’t really more dangerous than the flu, how dumb can you be?

It took my healthy friend before his time. It snuffed a life that knew only love and giving. It killed a truly good man.

Wear that mask. Wash your hands. Keep your distance. Don’t deny the possibilities if you feel sick. Protect others. People like Rat don’t need your virus.

Rest in Peace Rat.

My Last MHS Football Game

In a perfect world, I would be celebrating another MHS football state championship this morning. Alas, we ran into a buzzsaw in the semifinals and the season came to a sudden end.

Still, it was a great season and I’m honored to have served this team as their athletic trainer and sports physical therapist. I’m especially proud of this group of young men. If you had told me when this senior class was freshmen that they would lead us to the success we’ve had this year, I would have doubted you.

But if I’ve learned anything from MHS football through the years, I’ve learned to never underestimate them. In 2000, we started the season 0-4. There was talk of a moving van showing up at Coach Quarles’ house. We won the next 11 in a row including the state championship game.

In 2001, we replaced 16 starters from the year before. Rebuilding year? Nah. Another state championship. This year, we replaced 17 starters. Reloading? Obviously!

I’ve now been a part of the MHS football program for 39 seasons. My first game was in 1982 when Dr. Bob Haralson asked me to cover for him. Here’s what I remember from that game--Maryville’s best player came to me during halftime saying that he had hurt his jaw.

I examined him and decided that he had actually broken his jaw. Obviously, that’s not an injury that you can play through. When I told him that, he said that he had played the first half with it so he was OK to play the second half. It seems that he had been punched at school that day, breaking his jaw on both sides. He hadn’t told anybody about it.

But here’s what I remember most…MHS Head Football Coach Don Story looked at me, a complete stranger at that time, and asked if he should play. I said no. Coach Story turned to the player (remember, he had played the first half with a broken jaw) and said “go put your clothes on.” The fact that Coach Story trusted me and supported my decision made a lasting impression on me. To this day, he is one of my heroes.

Through the 80’s, I didn’t just cover Maryville—I covered all our local schools. Most days during football season, I would leave my office, head first to Heritage, then to Alcoa, drop by Maryville, and finish at William Blount. If Coach Bill Satterfield at Greenback had somebody for me to check, I would head that way. Sharon Wood of Maryville College would help out on Friday night but I would usually end up at the biggest game, especially if it was between two county teams.

In the early 90’s, we began adding Athletic Trainers and eventually got to where we had an Athletic Trainer at each school. Tracy Martin at William Blount. Terry Byrd at Heritage. Peggy Bratt at Alcoa. That’s when I was able to focus on just Maryville High.

By the time my son was playing, I was covering only sports at Maryville. It was a great pleasure being on the sidelines with my son in 1997 and 1998 when they competed and then won the first of the current string of state championships.

I’ve been a part of a lot of incredible teams and memorable games but it’s over. The semifinal game was my last game on the sidelines of MHS. Athletic Trainers David Ivens and Amanda Cagle are now in charge.

It’s time. Football takes such a huge amount of time. My wife has put up with this for 40 years and she and my grandchildren deserve more of my time.

Thank you for all the coaches that have made me a part of the staff. Thank you to all the players that have been a part of my life for so long. Thank you to all the student trainers that have kept me young. A huge thank you to the parents of my athletes that have trusted me to take care of their kids. The greatest compliment I’ve ever received may be the oft repeated comment that “I feel better knowing that you are there for my child.”

Oh, and by the way, I’m not going away completely. I’m not retiring, I’m just giving up MHS football—you can still find me every day at Total-Rehab at Cherokee seeing patients and doing what I do. And if you need me, I’m easy to find.

COVID Fatigue

Along with a lot of other things, this pandemic has added words and phrases to our every day. I doubt many people understood “pandemic” until Covid. Now it’s “Covid Fatigue.”

In case you haven’t noticed, cases and deaths are blowing up right now.  I heard yesterday that there were more new cases this week than we had in the first three months of the pandemic. That would be March, April, and May when we really didn’t know what to think about this thing and it seemed to be everywhere.

I also heard that deaths are approaching a quarter of a million and that over a million children had contracted the disease. That’s unreal. Those that thought this thing was a hoax or a political maneuver have to admit now that they were wrong.

A healthy 54 year old Maryville native and a friend of mine is fighting for his life in the ICU of an Atlanta hospital. Because of Covid. Small towns that might have been somewhat protected by the isolation of their rural status are now being slammed.

From a sports perspective, There were six forfeits the first week of the football playoffs and four in the second round, including the McMinn County-Kingsport Dobyns-Bennett game which was halted as the teams were warming up for the game. That’s 10 teams that made the playoffs, a dream for many teams, yet couldn’t play.

I’m not sure what’s going to happen to basketball and wrestling. As one of those people tasked with taking care of the health of our young athletes, I find the task daunting if not downright scary.

Let me state for the record that I’m tired of wearing this mask. I’m tired of not seeing my family. I’m tired of not being able to go to restaurants. I’m tired of not shaking hands or hugging.

I’m tired of social distancing. I’m tired of washing my hands every few minutes every time I touch anything or anybody. I’ve never carried around hand sanitizer but now I’m never far from it.

I’m tired of worrying about being a carrier and giving it to one of my patients or someone on my football team but most of all to my wife or one of my grandchildren.

I’m tired of people arguing about personal liberties and government mandates. I’m tired of people getting sick. I’m especially tired of people dying.

Covid fatigue? Oh yeah. For sure. It’s real for me.

But you know what? I’m going to wear that dadgum mask. I’m going to bump elbows instead of shake hands. I’m going to step away several feet during every conversation. I’m going to sanitize my hands after every encounter with anything.

I’m going to continue to do takeout from restaurants and tip generously. I’m going to trust that those preparing the food are observing all those same precautions and if I suspect differently, I won’t be back.

I’m going to continue to travel in separate vehicles from my buddy to go mountain biking because he is even older than me and is concerned about exposure.

I will continue to see my patients and take care of my football players like they are my own child but I will keep my distance from them when I can. And I’m going to continue to keep after them to maintain social distancing and wear their masks. Even though they think I’m just a silly old man.

A vaccine just around the corner? Sure. Maybe. But I don’t think we can wait to do the right thing. All the time. Because I don’t want to get it and I don’t want you to either.

My Knee: A year later

It’s been almost a year since my knee replacement. To say that it has been an eventful year is clearly an understatement. Covid, elections, riots…the list is long and profound.

But the year for my knee has been all good. It doesn’t hurt. It works pretty darn well. I take no medicines for it. And I can run for short distances.

I wrote a couple of columns about the surgery and rehab. Dr. Justin Jones of OrthoTennessee-Maryville did the surgery on December 11^th of 2019. He had warned me that it was a painful surgery, given the severity of the degenerative changes. He was right.

I gave him a piece-of-garbage knee to work with but he did a great job. The surgery, which actually takes less than an hour, went about twice that for me.

To put the first few days in a nutshell, when they tell you to “stay ahead of the pain,” they know what they’re talking about. I thought I was pretty tough but that surgery knocked me down a notch or two.

Take your medicine. My surgery was on Wednesday and I took my last pain pill Sunday night. That’s probably about average and you’re not going to get hooked on anything in that short of time.

Rehab was started immediately--I was doing exercises in my hospital bed the night of the surgery. Getting full extension of your knee after surgery is hugely important and I was determined to do that.

Ice, controlling the swelling, and moving are all essential to good outcomes. I must have walked 10 miles around my living room in the first few days.

Under the direction of my colleague Candy Martin, PTA, I began formal rehab on the next Monday. I was scheduled to start on Friday but I wimped out. I know it is the business I’m in but the rehab is absolutely essential. You’ve got to put in the work to get a good knee.

I did lots of extra work. Such is the benefit of having a key to the door and knowing what I was doing. Daily rehab. Several hours on the weekends.

Six weeks later, I was back on the road bike. I did River Road (flat, safe) with my daughter, who insisted on going because, well, she wasn’t real sure I should be out there. She soon found out I was fine.

Nine weeks post-op, I ventured out on my mountain bike with my buddy and bike sensei Steve Bright. I wasn’t really sure of it myself. But when my bike slid down and I came down hard on that knee and nothing happened, I knew it would be fine.

I actually let out a little whoop, which worried Steve but it was a whoop of joy, not from pain. From that point on, I have not let up. A couple of months ago, I started taking Tuesdays off and most of those are spent mountain biking with my buddy Ken Bell.  We’ve been visiting different mountain bike areas and riding hard.

We’re really like a couple of kids out there—biking on sweet single track will do that for you. Just imagine the most fun you’ve had on a bicycle and that’s what a couple of hours at Bakers Preserve will do for you.

So, as I approach my one year anniversary, I have several things to be thankful for. I’m thankful for a good surgeon. I’m thankful for good physical therapy. I’m thankful for the technology that allows me to live life fully. I’m thankful for a new knee.

As I said not too long after that surgery, if you are postponing joint replacement surgery for whatever reason, consider going ahead and getting it done. If your knee or hip are holding you back from doing what you want to do, get them fixed. It’s not exactly easy but you won’t regret it.

 It’s getting colder outside, forcing people inside a bit more. I’ve got several thoughts on this.

First, adapt and head outside anyway. I think you’ll find it to be quite pleasant if you dress properly and move once you get out there.

Some people think (some know) that I’m pretty crazy for riding a bicycle through the winter. I’m here to tell you that it really isn’t that bad at all. This week, it was certainly colder but by dressing properly, bicycling was actually incredible this week.

Mountain biking at Dirty South in Knoxville on Tuesday, gravel bike on Wednesday, road bike on Thursday—all were absolutely wonderful. Sure, it’s a bit cold when you start but after you get warmed up, it was perfect.

I know that people see runners out there in shorts and maybe a long sleeve t-shirt with gloves and a toboggan and think that they must be insane. But by generating some body heat through exercise, I’m sure they are quite comfortable.

Same thing for hikers. Layers are the key. And take items in your backpack that will accommodate changes in weather.

Take the kids to the park. Once there and moving, they will be fine. If you just stand there and watch them, you might get cold but that’s what jackets and scarves are made for. Take the short hike up to the tower at Look Rock.

In colder weather, the air is cleaner and crisper. The trees losing their leaves just means that the views are even more vast and spectacular. There may not be a better time to head for the Smokies than in the middle of winter.

Second, it’s more important to follow Covid precautions as you spend more time indoors.

There is no doubt that more time inside and more people in closer quarters makes social distancing more difficult. We also know that colder weather brings on the cold and flu season.

Hospitals in colder climates are already seeing a huge upsurge in Covid cases. Denver hospitals are full. It just makes sense.

I’m not going to argue the whole mask thing. Science has told us that masks work and Common Sense tells me that the mask doesn’t have to be impervious to help. Any barrier will reduce the distance that the droplets will travel.

I know for sure that wearing a mask keeps my fingers out of my mouth. I had no idea how bad I was until I started wearing a mask.

Right now, it seems that fewer folks are wearing masks than did earlier in the summer. That’s disappointing. Masks are more important now than they were then.

I’ve bene at sporting events where masks were few and far between. I heard one complaint that a person wasn’t going back into such and such store because they enforced the mask rule. Uh folks, it’s the law. Don’t punish a business for trying to follow the law and protect your health.

And one last thing—stay in contact with older folks. The longer nights and colder weather also lead to seasonal stress disorder, depression, and a more sedentary lifestyle. Visits are probably still a bad idea.

Help them by encouraging them and by assisting them in being more active.

Teenage Suicide

 This is more often than not a “feel good” piece. I’ll admit that. I’ve never thought it was my place to be critical or negative. I try to be encouraging while hopefully teaching lessons about health, sports, and wellness.

I even try and be positive even while discussing tough topics. I understand the health implications of obesity but I know that sometimes it is complicated. I hate smoking but love the smoker (unless they get too close). I preach against those that don’t take care of their health but believe with all my heart that we should take care of those that can’t take care of themselves.

Recently a local high school athlete took her own life. There is nothing but darkness to be found in that. I didn’t know her but I know several of her friends.

A teenager, entering the prime of her life, who was struggling with something so immense that she decided to end it. Someone suffering such pain that she saw only one way out.

It’s devastating to think about as a parent or grandparent. Such a future, such a life…gone before she really had a chance to show what was to come. I can’t imagine the pain.

Yet, it can happen to any of us. No one is immune. We can be close to our kids but we cannot know everything about them. And it seems to be far more common among athletes than you would think. Athletes succeeding at sports that they love, surrounded by a sound support system.

Reports have suicide up 30% in Blount County. Nationwide, teenage suicides are up by 40%. The isolation imposed by Covid restrictions are likely contributing to those figures.

Maybe sports are part of the problem. Maybe the emphasis on winning and success and scholarships is just too much for some.  Maybe it is too much for someone one too young to fathom the depths of despair and disappointment. Maybe it is overwhelming for them to deal with a level of stress that their young minds cannot comprehend.

I would not begin to understand all that can go wrong. Kids that are loved and in stable families doing this unthinkable final act. Ending their pain in the only way that they think is available to them.

I want to shout it to the mountain tops—there IS help available.

But you’ve got to talk to somebody. Talk to your school’s guidance counselor. They are trained to deal with these things. Talk to a youth pastor or someone around kids doing ministry like Young Life or FCA. There are good people around that will listen and help you.

You may think that there is no way a professional counselor could help you deal with your problems but they can. Whatever your problems are.

Bubba Hooker is a well-known local youth leader in our community. Bubba has himself been touched by suicide. Bubba told me “I’m sick of seeing our kids die and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to stop it.” He and Roger Murphy, local educator, minister, and youth advocate, have plans to put a group together to try and make a difference in Blount County.

I know that probably the hardest thing in the world to you would be to tell your parents how you feel. That’s understandable. But you’ve got to tell someone. A family friend. A teacher. A coach. Someone.

Just know that nothing is too much to overcome but you’ve got to have help.

Life is Like a Camera

“Life is like a camera.  Focus on what’s important, develop from the negatives, and if things don’t work out, take another shot!?”

I was out biking this week and stopped by a local country market where the proprietor gladly allowed me to use her bathroom. On her wall were several quotes, some with credits, some anonymous. This one happened to stick out to me, I guess partly because I had never seen it before.

“Life is like a camera.” If you think about what has gone before, you probably don’t think of your life in the terms of a movie. Our memories are more like a series of snapshots. Or at least short snippets of video. Never full length movies.

I can remember walking off the football field after a particularly painful loss. I remember walking beside my position coach and saying “sorry, Coach.” He said “it’s OK Joe, you gave it all you had.” A brief moment.

That simple reply, offered during a down moment, meant everything to me and is still with me today. There are profound lessons to be found in moments like those. Coaches that I know and admire look for those moments.

You’ve heard me mention the cliché “life lessons” way too many times. But there are moments, brief comments even, that can change lives. Such is the impact of a good coach or a good teacher.

“Focus on what’s important.” There are those of you that will disagree with me, but I truly believe sports are important. Oh, not undue emphasis on professional sports which, I suppose, are important for their entertainment value. I’ve always been more interested in the high school athlete.

Sports are important to promote an active lifestyle, to learn how to be coached, to understand what it means to be part of a team. To discover who you are, to figure out the benefits of hard work—to see the fruits of your labor.

“Develop from the negatives.” Absolutely. Adversity is going to happen. Everywhere. In life. In sports. No one lives their entire life without encountering difficulties, without dealing with negatives.

I’ve heard many coaches tell their teams “at some point, you’re going to face some adversity.” It’s how you deal with it that will tell you who you are, what you are made of. That’s true in sports. And definitely true in life.

Everything doesn’t go as we plan. Sometimes there’s a Plan out there that replaces our own plan. As hard as you might work, you might still lose the game. You work diligently on your jump shot only to miss the game winner. Your team is driving the football down the field when you fumble. You miss a crucial shot on goal.

How do you respond? Does it affect your next attempt? What do you do with those negatives?

“If things don’t work out, take another shot.” I work a little bit with the kickers on our football team. If they kick well, I want to be the person there cheering them on. And if they miss, I’ll be there telling them to put it behind them and get ready to kick another—that you can’t affect the past, only the future.

Life isn’t always as cozy as that. We don’t always get a second chance at life’s events. That’s why you’ve got to keep your head up and your eyes open, looking for the opportunities that life gives you. And be prepared to meet those opportunities because you have a solid moral base, live a life based on principle, and know who you are.

David Farmer, PT

Goodbyes can be hard. You have goodbyes that are “see you later” and you have goodbyes that mean “farewell.”

I had a good friend finally succumb to cancer this week after a long battle. When David Farmer graduated from physical therapy school at LSU, he hitchhiked west until he got to Durango, Colorado where he looked around and decided that this was where he wanted to be.

A unique character, Farmer was Cajun to the core, keeping that deep Louisiana accent until the end. He looked like a stoner but was one of the most brilliant people I ever knew. He quietly built a life in Durango but was THE physical therapist to the professional mountain bike community for many years.

He loved simple things. His ukulele. His old Volkswagen Thing. A hat some friends gave him. He owned a coffee plantation in Kona, a queen bee company in California, and a popular sports club in Durango yet he would travel to join friends wherever they might be, sleeping on the couch if need be.

That was Farmer. Nothing was more important to him than spending time with friends. I happened to be in that circle. I was one of the lucky ones. Along the way, I introduced him to three friends from here, Ken, Eric, and Keith. They were instantly his new best friends. Some of the best times of my life were with those four.

This week, one young friend commented “the first time I met David, he made it seem like we had been friends forever—that I was the most important person in the room.” That was David Farmer.

When friends or family pass, it invariably causes us to look at our own life…our own mortality. With Farmer, I choose to look at the lessons that he taught me.

Farmer: “Good is not good enough and great is a step in the right direction.” The world of sports is demanding. The difference between success and failure can often be measured in inches or seconds.

Good athletes might look at others and think “I’m as good as they are.” But do you have their dedication? Do you have their drive? Do you really have what it takes?

With Farmer, success meant that you were “all in.” But if you weren’t, that was OK with Farmer. He marched to his own drummer and encouraged you to do the same.

I was never that good of a mountain biker but I enjoyed the mountains and the camaraderie (I’ve gotten a lot better in recent years-go figure). That didn’t matter to Farmer. He just wanted to ride and then enjoy great food and drink afterwards.

Farmer was an “Enabler.” Those that worked for him would tell you that he enjoyed their success as though it was his own. I remember one time when he flew to a meeting just to be there when another friend received an award. I guarantee you that it was more important to Farmer that his friend got that award than if he had gotten it himself.

If Farmer had been on a team, he would have been the perfect teammate. He would never have been concerned with his own stats, just the success of the team. If he were big enough, he would have been the perfect offensive lineman on a football team.

Another Farmer quote: “As I see it, you have two choices--you can either leave or bleed.” You might have to interpret that one for yourself but for me it means that you pay the price for your pursuits or you go another direction. Whatever choice you took, David Farmer was by your side.

Goodbye, David Farmer.

It's Not Always About the Score

 When you are reading this, a couple of huge football games will be over. Huge. Enormous.

You can say that Alcoa/Maryville and Heritage/William Blount are just single games in a 10 game season but they mean more. Much more. Those games are not just “another game.” They mean something.

And that’s good. It’s good to play in games that mean something to you. Those games get your attention. They should get your best effort. And they give you life lessons that you can hopefully take with you when you’re through playing.

Coaches will speak of that part of “just another game,” but the kids don’t buy that. This is the one game that they really want to win. I don’t think they would trade a state title for a win in this game but it is close.

We will know the outcomes of those games by now but this isn’t about winning and losing at all. It’s about participating.

Engraved on a monument at West Point is this quote from General Douglas MacArthur: “Upon the fields of friendly strife are sown the seeds that on other days, on other fields, will bear the fruits of victory.”

I believe that is an eternal truth and that is one reason why playing sports while growing up is so important. Life lessons are learned on our playing fields.

President Teddy Roosevelt said “The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena; whose face is marred by sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotion, spends himself in a worthy cause; who at best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement; and who at worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly….”

In games such as these, we do keep score. There is a winner and a loser. Our games require the structure of keeping score. I was never a fan of not keeping score, even for children’s games. There may not be a scoreboard but the kids would always know the score.

Too often, we glorify “winners” and look down on all others as “losers.” I am here to tell you that just because you end up on the short side of the scoreboard, not all are losers.

Coaches will talk about “paying the price” and “giving it all you’ve got.” That’s what it’s all about. Success is built on the practice field. Games are the measuring stick for our preparation, effort, and skills.

In any game, if you can truly say to yourself, that is my best effort, then it doesn’t matter what the scoreboard says.  Oh sure, we all want to come out on top. It’s what we work for. It’s what we dream of.

But the outcome of a single game does not decide who we are and what we are made of. Did you get better? Were you prepared? Did you do the little things like eat right, properly hydrate, listen to your coaches?

The discipline that it takes to do the little things is one of the greatest things you can take away from sports—one of the great lessons that you get from competing.  To know that you worked hard at something and became the best you that you can be…that’s what it’s all about.

The ATC: It's what we do

 I’ve had several questions this week about how we do things. By “we,” I’m referring to the Athletic Trainers at each of our schools whose job is to keep their teams safe and healthy.

You may not know what an Athletic Trainer is. An Athletic Trainer is a college trained health care professional, usually holding a Masters Degree in Athletic Training. Athletic Trainers do much, much more than tape ankles. We provide interventions to prevent injury, rehabilitate after an injury, provide emergency care on the court or field, and a million other things.

This week, I was asked how we make decisions about when lightning is close enough to be a danger.

All of our Athletic Trainers carry portable devices to detect the exact location of lightning and determine how far away it is. On a recent Friday night, measurements on that device and careful assessment caused a delay of the game and evacuation of the stadium. It wasn’t until it was determined that the storm had passed (and even then we had to wait another 30 minutes) that we were able to restart the game. A 9 o’clock kickoff made for a rather late game.

But I believe that anyone that was there would agree that it was the right decision and the right process. During the worst of the lightning, it seemed like it was literally hovering overhead.

What do you do if you are hiking and a lightning storm crops up? Think profile. What is there around you that might attract lightning? A tall tree?  Get away from it. Hovering under a tree is always a bad idea.

Get away from exposed areas. A low place away from trees is probably the best place you can be. Crouch down and wait out the storm. Remember that it is better to get wet than dead.

I was asked this week how we make our decisions about concussions. In other words, how do we know when something is a concussion?

First let me tell you what a blessing it is to have Athletic Trainers at all of our schools. It is impossible to be there for every practice and game for every sport, but it surprises outsiders how often we are there when our services are needed. 

Here’s my point:  By being around the members of the team, we get to know them…quite well. That lets us do a better job when it comes to dealing with a possible concussion. If an athlete is behaving oddly, we are there to notice it. And since we know that kid well, we are better able to recognize aberrant behaviors. We know which kid might exaggerate their symptoms and which one is going to try and hide them from us.

By our definition, every blow to the head that results in symptoms (dizziness, headache, visual disturbance, et cetera) is a concussion until proven differently. Once an athlete is stabilized and appears in no immediate distress, we assess their physical presentation, their vision, their balance, and assess their cognitive ability and short term memory.

If there is any doubt, it’s off to the Emergency Room for that athlete. We take NO chances in this arena. Too much can happen and it’s pretty much all bad. Sending an athlete back into the game with a missed concussion can result in 2^nd Concussion Syndrome, which can be much worse than the initial concussion.

So we are SUPER cautious when we suspect a concussion. If symptoms abate quickly, we may watch the athlete for a while but more than likely the game is over for that athlete on that night. If the initial symptoms are significant enough or if symptoms tend to linger too long, it is an ambulance ride for our young charge.

Lightning. Concussions. Covid-19. Wearing masks. Social distancing. Wearing a bicycle helmet. Make smart decisions and be safe!

A Little Bit of Covid

I admit it…I do occasionally go lacking for ideas for this space. After 34 years, that’s inevitable. Most of the time it’s just that I don’t want to repeat myself. I wrote the same piece on Mrs. Geraldine Upton at least three times before my wife reminded me that I had already covered my story with her.

This time it’s sort of the same thing. I’ve written about nothing but Covid-19 and returning to school and sports for three straight weeks.

I usually write about is whatever is on my heart and that’s been foremost since it looked like there would be a fall sports season. And I would be lying to you if I told you returning to sports wasn’t still weighing heavily on me. But the fact is, we’re in it, with games about to commence.

I don’t worry about volleyball and soccer as much as football. In football, the contact is more, the numbers are much higher, and I honestly believe the chances of getting Covid-19 are much higher.

I understand the overwhelming desire to return to some degree of normalcy and I know what the senior season an athlete dreams of means to them. So, I’m there. Every day. Doing what I can to keep them safe. Because that’s my job.

To protect my family, I’m putting my clothes directly in the washing machine and heading for the shower every day when I get home. I wear a mask, I wash my hands. I maintain social distancing whenever possible. But if I have an injured athlete, social distancing goes out the door.

Back to the original dilemma: What to write about that isn’t about Covid-19 (obviously I’ve already blown that one). I asked a patient of mine for suggestions about what I should write about this week. He had already admitted to being a regular reader—looking for my column on Sunday morning every week.

He said “write about what we should be eating to stay healthy.”

OK. I can do that. I’ve been down that road before but I’ve been told you have to hear something seven times before it really sinks in. So here is my opinion.

If it contains white sugar or white flour, stay away from it. You don’t have to completely eliminate those food culprits from your diet, just limit your intake of both of them.

I just don’t understand those that drink several sodas every day. The average soda contains about 8 teaspoons (or 30-40 grams) of added sugar. Each. The American Heart Association recommendation on added sugar is about 25 grams a day. That’s just too much sugar.

And we can’t ignore that there’s a lot of sugar in other foods. Ketchup. Salad dressing. Sports drinks. Barbecue sauce. We get plenty of sugar in our diet so we need to look for ways to cut back. All of us.

In general, Americans consume way too much in the way of simple carbohydrates. My personal path was that my problems with hypoglycemia (low blood sugar) went away when I dropped my carb intake considerably. Complex carbohydrates are OK but even then, we need fewer carbs and a more balanced diet.

We all need to eat more simply. The items in your grocery cart should have one name, not a list of ingredients. There are good fats and bad fats. Know the difference.

Eat smart. Eat healthy. But food is meant to be enjoyed so don’t beat yourself up for the occasional lapse.

What can we do?

Where do you start when you have a lot to say but yet don’t know where to start? Or if you are not sure you should say anything at all.

So much is going on right now. We’re still in the Covid-19 mess. The numbers are climbing again at an alarming rate. This doesn’t seem like much until it hits home. Recently a friend’s mom died from Covid-19, just shy of her 90^th birthday.

She had been healthy and other than her age, had very few health concerns. She caught it from somebody. Yet people are still yelling that their rights are being taken away when they are required to wear a mask to protect others.

It’s a tough time to be in law enforcement. Defund the police? A ridiculous idea. Some of the most honorable and dedicated people that I know are in law enforcement. The huge majority are dependable, responsible professionals.

But get this straight—there are bad eggs in every profession. There are physical therapists who are doing things that are terribly wrong. There are bad lawyers, doctors, educators…everything. No profession is immune. So when a bad egg emerges, don’t condemn all the good ones.

Yes, racism is still an issue. I thought we fixed all that in the 60’s but that was barely the start. Too many people judge people by the color of their skin. If that were a rare and isolated behavior, I might be able to accept it. It isn’t and I can’t. We need to be anti-racist, not just non-racist.

Let me tell you a story from a conversation I had recently with a man I consider one of my children. This fellow is black. His daughter, my goddaughter, is black. “When my daughter leaves the house, I tell her to stay under the speed limit, if she is stopped, she is to put her hands on the steering wheel and be polite. If she is being harassed by someone, keep driving—find a policeman. What did you tell your white son when he left the house?”

I would tell him to be safe and have fun. I didn’t worry that some random stranger was going to do anything bad to him because of the color of his skin. A black father doesn’t have that luxury. Even today. Maybe especially today.

We are living in sad times.

Businesses everywhere are struggling, especially small businesses. My friends at Savory Rootz had to close their doors. They had a great place with great food and service. They just couldn’t survive the Stay-At-Home. Tragic. They put their heart and soul in that place. 

Maybe they will be able to open again. If they do, please flock there in droves.

I’m not saying it was wrong to shut everything down. I believe it was the right thing to do. But goodness gracious what a cost it extracted. It will take the economy years to recover.

I’ll apologize beforehand but I’m going to talk politics for a moment. Two topics I avoid talking about here are religion and politics. But sometimes I can’t help myself.

There’s a saying in government, “you’re either at the table or we’re having you for lunch.” What that means is that you’ve got to be in the arena. You have a voice—you have to use it. 

You might whine “I’m just one person…what can I do?”

Let me tell you a story. In 2007, there was a bill working its way through the state legislature that would allow someone to see a physical therapist without a referral. That bill was bogged down in a committee because of partisan politics.

It passed out of that committee because one legislator stepped across the aisle and voted against her party leadership. That one legislator was influenced by one physical therapist who had done nothing more than provide good physical therapy. The legislator didn’t forget the value of that physical therapist.

I hear people all the time saying that they can’t stand politics. I would argue that each of us has an obligation to be an engaged member of the political process. If nothing else, you have a vote. And a voice.

Right now, schools are agonizing about opening back up. Do we? What precautions should we take? Making the news regularly are questions about the upcoming sports seasons. Do we play? If we play, what precautions do we take? How can we even consider practicing where contact is unavoidable?

My opinion? Games will be played. Schools will open. Temperatures will be taken. Every precaution possible will be utilized. There will be fewer fans in the stands. Some students will opt for the virtual classroom. We won’t know if we’re doing the right thing until we get back into it.

Do we need for our kids to be in school? Heavens yes. But how do we go about doing that? I don’t have all the answers because there are too many things that we don’t know about this stuff. The science hasn’t caught up with the disease.

Are sports more important than our health? Oh heavens no. Do we need sports? Yes. Definitely. I wrote about that a couple of weeks ago.

When it comes down to it, YOU are the only one that can decide about you. Only YOU can decide what behaviors you choose. Only YOU can make a difference.

But wear the dadgum mask! What harm can it do? And you might have saved the life of my friend’s mom. Even if that’s a big maybe, is it still worth it if there’s any possibility that you could be wrong?

At what age are you too old to exercise?

Anybody that knows me sees that question and knows that I have my tongue firmly planted in my cheek. For those of you too young to understand that, it means I’m kidding. Really.


I talked about prevention last week, offering guidelines for preventing illness and injuries. But what about preventing old age? Isn’t it inevitable? If you live long enough, aren’t you going to get old anyway? Well yeah, but how do you want to spend those golden years?


First, let’s define “old.” Years ago (many years ago) I would declare that “middle-aged” was whatever I was plus 10. I’m well past middle-aged so we can’t use that one. But that still doesn’t define what is old.

Maybe old is what I am now plus 10.  That would make "old" officially at 77.  Maybe. 


My dad had a friend who declared on his 80^th birthday “I’m officially old and no one can argue with me now.” I get that. Even as I fast approach that threshold.


OK. Let’s use 80 as the barometer. Does that mean that anything less than 80 isn’t old? I’ve known 60 year olds that were positively ancient. They dress old. They walk old. They think old. They talk old.


I also know that my 90 year old neighbor will outwork people a third of his age. He maintains a several acre yard and a big house and there is no one that meets him that would ever believe that he is 90. I saw him working on his house recently on a stepladder. How many people 90 do you see doing that?


He’s always worked. He’s always taken care of his own place. He just never stopped. Still hasn’t. He bought a truck recently to help carry stuff around. His only concession seems to be a golf cart, but as I said, he has a really big yard.


So, what is the secret? How do we both live long and live well? Is there a Fountain of Youth out there?


I believe there is. I believe that our own Fountain of Youth can be found in movement. A very long time ago, I studied Physics. One basic principle in Physics is that “a body in motion tends to stay in motion while a body at rest tends to stay at rest.”


I believe that is true for us too. If you move, if you never stop, you will be able to stay in motion. On the other hand, if you don’t move, if the recliner is your constant companion, you will get to the point where you can’t move.


Make sense? Let me put it in a personal perspective. I’m not a gifted athlete. My aerobic capacity is quite mediocre. I’ve not got broad shoulders and I’m sure not going to win any races. In other words, I’m an Average Joe.


But I’ve never stopped. I’m always in motion. Always have been. And because of that, I don’t move nor behave like I’m 67 years old. Mountain biking. Road biking. Hiking. CrossFit. Farm work. It’s always something.


Do you have to join a gym and lift weights? Heavens no. Most of us need strength training because we lose muscle mass as we get older but you can set up a home gym and do that on your own.


Don’t ignore body weight exercises. Pushups, pullups, situps, jumping jacks…they require no equipment but are effective tools for strength training. Building endurance doesn’t mean that you have to run a marathon or sit on a bicycle for 3-4 hours. It means simply that you get your heart rate up for 20-30 minutes.


You can stretch. You can build balance by standing on one leg. You can take the stairs. You can take a yoga class. But you’ve got to move. Movement is everything.


The answer to the original question? NEVER! You’re never too old to exercise. It can add quality and quantity to your life.

Six Month Checkup

It’s been six months since I had my knee replacement surgery so I thought I would catch you up a bit. I get a lot of questions about how it is doing.  Many of those questions are from people who are considering knee replacement themselves.


Let me just say this: If you think you need a knee replacement, you probably do. I’ll tell you what I have heard patients tell me hundreds of times—“I wish I had done this a long time ago.”


Let me explain my situation. Prior to knee replacement, I had three surgeries on my right knee, dating back to when I was a teenager. All were successful and I continued an active lifestyle, playing basketball until I was 59. Really.


Even in recent years, my knee didn’t hurt much. Oh, I took more than my share of ibuprofen and only when I went without anti-inflammatories did I get an inkling of what was going on in my knee.


It’s been a long time since I could run. That was OK. I could still ride a bike without any problem whatsoever. And I could hike. For years, my wife I have taken an annual fall hiking trip, visiting some really great places. Not in 2019. I knew that my knee wouldn’t hold up to it.


About the only time I had to run was on the football field to check an injured player. In recent years, that got harder and harder and I got slower and slower. It finally got to where I didn’t even try and run. This past fall, I heard an official tell an injured athlete “Joe’s coming” as I walked as fast as I could onto the field.


I rehabbed hard and tried to force my knee to allow me to run, thinking that maybe I wasn’t tough enough. I knew it was bad but I didn’t know how bad. Then I saw my own X-ray.


What a mess! It is no exaggeration to say that my own x-ray was about the worst I had ever seen. But I knew that I had to get through the football season so I limped along. Literally.


There were days when the pain was pretty bad…days when I wanted to find an orthopedist and an operating room and fix it right then. But I got through it and on the first Wednesday after the state championship game, I was admitted for surgery.


Jump ahead to today. My knee feels great. It’s a little stiff but that’s because of the extensive damage to my knee and the fact that I waited about 10 years too long to have it fixed.


I’m biking hard. I climbed Lookout Mountain on consecutive days recently. I’ve been mountain biking a bunch, even wrecking (without injury) a couple of times. I’m ready to start hiking again. Thank you Dr. Justin Jones for taking a mess and giving me a good knee.


My best advice? If your knee is changing your lifestyle, if there are things that you can’t do that you want to do because of your knee, get it replaced.


Like I said, I wish I had done it a long time ago.

What Lessons Will We Teach?

I turned to a family member this week for ideas for this space. She told me “well, you haven’t written about your newest grandchild yet.” Well, I sort of did. Right after she was born. Talking about experiences in the Children’s Hospital NICU.


Number seven. A blue eyed beauty that shares my name. Born prematurely in January, she is now healthy and robust and though lacking in understandable vocabulary, is quite the Talker.


But what kind of world are we bringing her into? Will she be judged by her gender? By the color of her skin? Will she experience hate and prejudice? Parents and grandparents worry about those things. Especially these days.


So, what can we do for her? What can we do to make the world a better place for her? When all this turmoil is over, I would really like to think that her world will be more accepting, more loving, more tolerant.


As her grandfather, I want to show her love…unconditional love. To make sure she knows that I will love her as long as I’m around. That there is absolutely nothing that she can do to change that one bit.


I want to teach her the value of being physically active. If needed, I will teach her how to ride a bike, play in the trees, and swim like a fish.


I want her to respect her body and mind, understanding that those are hers and hers alone—that it is her job to take care of both of them. Maybe that means eating good, whole food but sometimes a girl just has to have a burger, fries, and a milkshake.


And that means that she accepts her body, whatever shape it takes. Tall or short. Thick or thin. I want her to love herself, to love the person that she sees reflected in my eyes.


I want her to learn the importance of being outside. Of walks in the woods. Of the mysteries to be found in a creek bed. That bugs aren’t creepy but necessary.


I want her to recognize the fox, the deer, the bear, the bunny, even the lowly possum. The Robin, the Mockingbird, the Eastern Bluebird. The fish in the sea. That she is a part of nature just like all those creatures. Even snakes.


I want her to understand that we are custodians of the planet Earth and it is our responsibility to take care of her, to nurture her, to protect her. The air that we breathe. The streams and creeks and rivers.


I want her to be less dependent on digital devices than I am, to understand that real conversation is important, that human contact is essential.


I want her to experience the joy of family. That her siblings are the best friends that she will ever have. That her cousins are the best people she will ever know.


I want her to play a sport—any sport. I want her to find something that she is passionate about and pursues it with vigor. I believe essential life lessons are learned on our playing fields. But let it be her sport and her choice. From that, she will discover the joy of movement.


I want her to know that there is a world outside her four walls, outside her hometown, outside her family and that she has a responsibility to that world. Yes, I want her to go change the world. It’s what she was brought into this world to do.

What does Joe Black eat?

I received a note from a reader this week, mostly appreciating what I didn’t have to say about Covid-19. But she did add, “tell us this—what does Joe Black eat?” 

Ooooh…I don’t know. Does anyone really want to know? Should I be worried? Can I be completely honest? How specific do I get?


OK. Here goes. Judge me as you will. But go back. Way back. 

For most of my life, I have followed what we were told was a heart healthy diet. Low fat. High carbs. Lots of fruit and vegetables. If anyone wanted to lose weight, they were told to avoid bread and potatoes (which maybe should have told us something).


About eight years ago, it was discovered that I had a significant level of atherosclerosis. Hardening of the arteries. Further testing indicated that my coronary arteries are probably doing their job so I’m not likely to have a heart attack but I will fight blood pressure issues for the rest of my life.


At about the same time, a friend of mine introduced me to research clearly indicating that we had it all wrong—that carbs were the culprit. And I was a carb-fed animal. Carbs for breakfast. Carbs for lunch. Carbs on my bike rides. More carbs with dinner. I ate but I was hungry all the time.


That friend also introduced me to Whole30, basically 30 days without carbs. I can tell you that for a couple of weeks, it wasn’t too bad. Then it hit me—it was tough. My energy levels were zero. My performance on the bicycle was awful. I got dropped in the parking lot.


But by the end of the 30 days, I felt pretty good. I lost weight. I wasn’t hungry all the time. My problems with hypoglycemia (low blood sugar) went away.


Don’t get me wrong…you can’t exist without carbs. As a biker, I need more than most, especially on a 3-4 hour ride. But it should be complex carbs. And you don’t need as much as you think. I will follow a low carb diet for the rest of my life. I am convinced it is the most heart-healthy approach out there.


And about that low fat. We now know that there are good fats and that a diet totally avoiding fats has problems of its own. We just have to seek out the good ones.


The other thing that I have changed is how I shop. I’ve always read labels but now what I’m looking for is simplicity. Most of the items in my grocery cart have one name, easily understood. Broccoli. Spinach. Salmon. Eggs. Milk. Various fruits. My friend, the late Sam Beall of Blackberry Farm, taught me why butter was better than margarine (check the ingredients). Simplicity.


So what is a typical Joe Black meal? It trends toward sameness. When I find something I like, I stick with it until I get tired of it. Here’s what I had yesterday.


Breakfast: Two eggs, almond milk, almond flour pancakes, maple syrup. Lunch: Chicken salad, carrots, fruit, coconut water. Dinner: Grilled chicken, asparagus, Jasmine rice, pumpkin pie.


I drink a Kombucha every day and snack on Pistachios. I have a distinct weakness for Benton’s bacon, Haagen-Dazs ice cream, Fritos, dark chocolate, and hot dogs with chili and slaw. A late night snack is likely to be tart cherry juice and a handful of Cheetos (don’t ask me to explain that one…I can’t). I believe that we need to enjoy our food and I’m not afraid of desserts.


I love good restaurants and avoid the chains. If the chef and the owner are the same person, that’s my kind of place. I love seafood of all kinds and a really great steak, cooked medium rare, is heavenly.


So, there you have it. I’m not going to try and tell you what to eat-I’m not a nutritionist. This is what works for me. Do your research and eat what’s right for you but avoid white sugar and white flour whatever you do. 

Your heart will thank you for it.

Noticing The Little Things

I will not write about Covid-19. I will not write about Covid-19. I will NOT write about Covid-19.

There. Got that out of my system. But since we aren’t doing much in the way of sports and this is the Sports Section, what’s left? What lessons can I teach? What wisdom can I impart?

Well, maybe not much. My world is very singular now. And most of my inspiration comes from experiences—things I do, see, or hear. Right now, my life is work, eat, sleep, repeat, so I’m finding far less inspiration.

So, I went outside. Sat out on the back of the building where I work, having a snack. The sky was what the meteorologists call “partly cloudy.” Not the big Cumulus clouds that you can use your imagination on. Plain, normal clouds. And a light breeze. A little cool. Perfect weather, really.

I’ve seen a rabbit in our parking lot for a while but while snacking, I saw the squirrel that had left signs that he was hereabouts. He was on the side of the one little Maple tree beside where I usually park for work. Twitchy as they all are, he didn’t like my presence. I was in his world.

When I stopped to look, I noticed birds everywhere. They didn’t seem to be practicing social distancing. My curiosity up, I walked down to the small creek that runs behind our office and splits the Maryville Little League Park.

It seems like I’ve been around that little creek for half my life, first with my kids playing ball on those fields and for nearly 20 years, in an office nearby. I never thought much about it. It was just someplace where kids liked to throw rocks and sometimes fall in.

I never thought of it as a life form but as I gazed into the waters, I noticed lots of life. 

So I took off my shoes and crept down into the creek. The water was cold but after I got used to it, I started exploring. I noticed tiny fish everywhere and several different kinds of aquatic plants. On close inspection, it was teeming with life. Never noticed any of that.

I stopped to listen and could hear the creek gurgling, the birds singing. It didn’t seem like there was as much road noise. Maybe traffic is down because people are staying home more. I could even hear kids playing nearby.

By now my senses were on full alert. I stopped, inhaled, and smelled…nothing. I’ve been in big cities and there is a constant odor, usually rather unpleasant. I grew up in an industrial town that smelled of rotten eggs.

But then I picked up just a hint of something sweet. Honeysuckle was in bloom not too far away and when I really focused, I could distinguish that particularly nice smell. Just because I’m an inquisitive sort, I put on the mask that I had in my pocket to see if it filtered the honeysuckle odor out. I was pleasantly surprised that it did not.

I looked at that little Maple that I’ve written about a few times. Just a stick when first planted, I would say it is now a teenager. One thing I like about it is how it reflects the seasons. Bare in winter. Budded in spring, full bloom in summer. Bright colors in fall. I try to make it a metaphor for life sometimes, but that’s just the poet in me. In all of us.

Is there a point to all this? Yes. Despite the pandemic, the sun will still shine. Regardless of the masks, there are smells to be smelled, sounds to be heard, wonders to be noticed.

I'm Positive That...

Coronavirus. Doom and gloom. Fear the Beast. I’ve done my part on the scare tactics. I’ve filled this space with warnings and dire predictions.


So what’s a guy to do? Shut out the world? Hide in the mountains until this is all over? I’ve just about quit watching the news—something about the body count (the number dead from the Coronavirus) that is just too much. It’s reminiscent of the news from the Vietnam era that I grew up in.


I can’t ignore the fact that it seems like a lot of people are just ignoring this thing, going on about their lives like there is nothing to be concerned about. Some people seem to have interpreted “Safer at Home” to mean “stores are open-let’s go shopping!”


Not a real threat? Look no further than the nursing home in nearby Etowah. Talk to the children of those nursing home residents in Maine or in Kentucky. Talk to anybody in New York City. 
I have a friend at a hospital in New Haven, Connecticut that last week was filled with Coronavirus patients. Literally filled. The threat is very real and is still out there.


Agree or not, we’re beginning the move back to some degree of normalcy, although I would insist that we’re going to find a “new normal” out there. Some things can never go back to the way they were. Stores, restaurants, and other non-essential businesses are opening although there are a lot of rules that must be followed. Masks, social distancing, and counting heads at the door will be the rule of business for most of the summer.


“Safer At Home” is no longer a mandate but is still a good idea. I saw a meme this week that said “I’m going to come out of this thing a Hunk, a Chunk, or a Drunk.” There’s a lot of truth in that.


There are obviously some negative coping mechanisms being employed. And believe me, you will employ coping mechanisms. You probably already are. But I would like to suggest that you seek out positive coping mechanisms.


Like exercise. You’ve got more free time. Take advantage of that. We also know that regular exercise will help keep you healthier and maybe make you less susceptible to the Coronavirus.


This should be a time to eat better. More time to plan meals. More time to cook. Although the lines at the fast food places are long, I think that’s just folks finally getting out and wanting something, anything that isn’t in their own freezer or cupboard.


Put away the digital devices and get to know your family better. Yeah, I said it. Mr. Hooked-to-his-phone. They’re great and I crave that FaceTime with the grandkids that I don’t get to be around but sitting in front of the computer or TV for hours on end is simply a bad idea. Find alternatives.


Sleep more. I know I have. Not getting enough sleep is probably my biggest health mistake. There isn’t a study out there (that I’ve been able to find) that tells you anything but that you should get adequate sleep. Like 7-9 hours.


Get in touch with important people in your life that you haven’t talked to in forever. Give them a call. Send them a note. Tell them what they mean to you. That book you’ve been wanting to finally read? Now’s the time.


Work in the dirt. It helps. Plants something. Anything. Then watch it grow. There are few things more satisfying that being able to eat straight from your own garden. Whatever you do, look for the positives. 

Or wake me when this thing is over.