Living Life on His Own Terms

 

Most people in the gym didn’t know his full name. We just knew him as Randall. He had been coming to our gym for years. As regular as rain, he might say. He rarely missed.

His wife was alive when he first started coming. She’s gone now. Has been for years. She was from Germany but I have no idea how they met. He had become an amputee at age 4 when he was run over by a car, but he just never let it bother him. 

Later years found him in an electric wheelchair, after his stump really couldn’t hold a prosthesis.  He would wheel that chair around the gym to position himself in front of one piece of exercise equipment or another. Sometimes he would transfer off of it onto a piece of equipment, like a bench for doing a bench press. 

Powerfully built, it hasn’t been that long since he was tossing around 80 pound dumbbells.  He also freely tossed around his ideas about what was right or wrong with the world. Our politics collided and I would tell him so, but he embraced dialogue on issues.

He left the gym early one day, barely a week ago, asking me to tell his buddy Phil that he wasn’t feeling great and that he would see him the next day. He didn’t make it. At age 92, he died of an apparent heart attack.

If I were to sum up what I knew of Randall, I would say simply that he was a man that lived life on his own terms. His only complaint was that it was hard to get old, but then he defied those odds by pushing a lot of weight around the gym. And then he didn’t.

This isn’t supposed to be macabre, just a bookmark in a long life. For me, it is a call to enjoy life and not waste time doing things I don’t want to do. To surround myself with people that enhance my life and none that detract from it.

I’m 71. Thirty years ago, I was 41, with all original parts and a family growing up. I had my health, more than my share of happiness, and was doing work that I felt was important.

In thirty more years, I will be 101.  Statistics tell me that I won’t make that. Maybe. I’m not planning on going anywhere but we are not promised tomorrow.

My mom died at 93 with bad health for a decade before succumbing to an accumulation of things including advanced dementia. My dad died at 84 after having had his first heart attack at 45.  He lived for almost 40 years on the medicine that would ultimately kill him.

I find myself making decisions about what to do today, tomorrow, next week, next month, next year based on what would I do if I didn’t make it to tomorrow. Eat that pie? Sure. Skip that workout to ride bikes with a grandson? No brainer.

Some buddies have invited me to go mountain biking in the area around Brevard, North Carolina in December. The trails are open and I really like these guys, but is it really convenient for me to go? I might miss something here! It’s not at all out of my comfort zone but I get so tied up in the same daily routine that any deviation is met with some degree of reluctance.

But I’m going.  And we’re probably going to a friend’s beach house sometime this winter. It’s free and he offered. And I’m going to pick up the phone and call an old friend and catch up and talk about days gone by. And then do it again.

I’m going to tell those that I love that I love them. If somebody has wronged me, I’m going to purposefully forget all about it.  I’m going to eat that Benton’s bacon and take that hike and head to Oak Ridge for Big Ed’s pizza anytime my wife even mentions it.  I’m going to take that little namesake to the Blue House that she loves and play tennis with my tennis player anytime he wants to.

I’m going to drive to Blacksburg and take the oldest grandchild out to dinner. I’m going to watch soccer games and track meets and sunsets. I’m going to sleep late (sometimes) and go about the business of lifting up those around me.

Because I can. RIP Randall.

Who will you be?

 

There are a lot of young folks that are in their first year of college right now. And more that are in the workforce. Maybe in the military. A lot of those were high school athletes that, for whatever reason, are no longer playing their sport.

Maybe it was a choice. Maybe they wanted to focus on their future without the time demands of athletics. High school is all about the experience and developing a foundation upon which to move forward in a career.

A lot about high school is learning how to learn. To this day, I have no idea what the value was for diagramming sentences, and I’m pretty sure the Latin I had to take was of no practical value. But by having to learn something that didn’t interest me (in full disclosure, nothing interested me in high school but girls and football), I learned how to learn.

Then when I get to English Literature class in college, I could still manage an A, even though I didn’t think it was worth anything to me. I had learned how to learn from having to learn something that held no interest for me. That lesson has followed me to this day.

Jump ahead a bunch of decades and here I am writing a weekly newspaper column for the 40^th year and quoting Browning’s “Grammarian’s Funeral” in front of college students. I’ve come a long way.

I had hoped to continue playing football in college but lack of talent and opportunity made that difficult. Oh, I had a brief stint with Mars Hill in North Carolina but that didn’t work out.

For me, and for so many others, giving up a sport that I loved was hard. Being a football player was a whole lot of who I was. The first year of college didn’t really change that. Intramural sports were OK but it wasn’t the same.

I had ended up at UT-Knoxville, majoring in wildlife biology. Then I injured my knee, had surgery, met my first physical therapist, and…well…that’s a story for another day. I ended up switching majors to prepare for physical therapy school.

And here’s where the story really starts. I finally had a real purpose in life, a career to pursue. My academic performance soared. The friends from my hometown fell away and I made new friends, different friends, many of which I am still friends with.

Being finally and fully immersed in the college experience, I discovered that there was a wide world out there. And I discovered a lot about who I really was. 

I discovered art and literature and music. I met people very different from me. I discovered cultures very different from my own and realized that they had value too. I learned that a lot of what we thought we knew was just our opinion, and that others might have a different opinion. And that was OK. I figured out that I did have a brain and how to use it.

I asked a college freshman just last weekend what she found so great about college. She has really enjoyed her first few months. Her answer? “Anonymity.” I like that.

Some have said that college can be an opportunity to re-invent yourself.  I don’t think it’s so much that as it is that you can become the person that you were intended to be.

No longer bound by expectations, no longer living the life presumed for you by others, no longer limited by the perceptions of others, you are free to be you. It definitely happened to me.

And as you enter this incredibly important transition from teenager to adult, whether it is going to college or entering the workforce, you control your destiny.

So, what do you want to do with your life? Or, more importantly, WHO do you want to be?

Mouth Breathing

 

If you know Dr. Tommy Spears, you probably know him as a prominent local dentist. If you have been around here a long time, you might remember him as a standout athlete at Maryville High School.

I first got to know Dr. Spears because of a mutual love of basketball. Well into what most people consider old age, we were both playing pickup basketball games on a regular basis. He and I played in a game at MHS on Sunday evening for years.

Being quite a bit older than him and not growing up here, I didn’t know what an athlete he had been growing up. I just knew that he could hoop in his 30’s and 40’s. Our friendship grew over the years and I now consider him a close friend.

One thing that not enough people know about Dr. Spears is that he has become a noted expert on the impact of mouth breathing on childhood development.

Through the years, he and I have had numerous conversations about this, particularly as it relates to TMJ problems. He led an interprofessional group studying oral health and mouth breathing that I was part of.

Along the way, Dr. Spears became passionate about the possibilities of helping people from birth through old age, not just with their dental care, but with the complete spectrum of oral health.

Let’s go back to that part about mouth breathing for a bit. Oral habits start at birth. Most new mothers understand that suckling is important for infant development. Breast feeding is best but not everyone can do that and not everyone chooses that and that’s OK.

Bottles from way back had nipples that were not anatomically correct in any way. More modern nipples are better. Those oral behaviors are important for the development of the nasal passages and palate.

We also know that allergies are a lot bigger problem than they were not that many years ago.  That means that young children develop chronic rhinitis, stopping up the nasal passages and promoting breathing through the mouth instead of the nose.

There are some structural parts of the mouth, chiefly under the tongue and the upper lip, that inhibit proper development of the mouth. All that leads to mouth breathing, which leads to a whole host of physical and developmental problems.

This is where Dr. Spears comes in. As an extension of his dental practice, he established Tennessee Orofacial Myology, whose purpose is to address those issues. Tennessee Orofacial Myology provides a wide range of services, including education, exercise, appliances, and, when needed, minor surgical interventions.

The program is designed to reduce the incidence, severity, and consequences of mouth breathing.  The ultimate goal is to produce healthier adults. And the results with early intervention are amazing.

Not just oral health is impacted. Proper growth and development of the palate, nasal passages, and face are promoted. Posture, neck, and TMJ problems are hugely impacted. The incidence and severity of sleep apnea are reduced.

Think about this—a child that is a nasal breather makes better grades and is overall healthier. An adult that has remained a nasal breather will be healthier, happier, and more successful.  I know, it sounds like a stretch, but it’s true. And medical evidence backs it up.

And it all starts at birth. Questions? Talk to your pediatrician or dentist.  There is too much that can be done for this to be ignored.

Leadership

We talk a lot about leadership in sports.  We don’t talk enough about it in the corporate world, but that’s another topic for another day.

“Be a leader” is an admonition heard almost daily in team sports.  But what does it mean, really? To me, leadership is helping others in performing at their best. All leadership implies enabling others. To do less is management, not leadership.

Some people talk about leadership “style.” I don’t. Style implies you can copy it and thus become it. Leadership is more who you are. Leadership is more of a mindset. Leadership is something you have to work at.

I like to categorize leadership into four groups: Performance Leader, Encourager, Builder, Role Model.

The Performance Leader is often the star of the team. They are the one that you notice, the one that carries the load. Maybe it comes naturally to them but a lot of times, they have put in an immense amount of work to get that good—work that most people don’t see.

Performance Leaders are accountable and coachable. Most, but not all, are confident yet not arrogant. Arrogance diminishes their leadership impact. They’re good but they want you to be good too.

The Encourager is the one that lifts you up. The one that tells you that you CAN do this. The Encourager is often not the Performance Leader, but when they are, they are doubly effective.

Encouragers see the potential in everyone and do what they can to bring it out. They make great teammates (and great coaches). Aim high. Achieve your dreams.

Each morning, about 40 young physical therapists from around the country get a text message from me. Every day. 365. Some for years. Always something positive, something encouraging. One of the recent ones was a quote from that grand philosopher Steve Harvey that said “If you see it in your mind, you can hold it in your hand.”

We need more Encouragers in this world.

Builders do the work. Offensive linemen on a football team are Builders. Their work is unsung and largely unrecognized. Only when one of them jumps offside do we know their number. Back row on a volleyball team, defenders on a soccer pitch, right fielders, first leg on a relay team. Those are Builders.

We don’t really notice them but without them, the team will fail.

Role Models are most often the quiet ones. They let their work speak for itself. Here’s the thing though—they hold themselves to a higher standard than they do anyone else.

Role Models work harder. They pay more attention to the little things, like always being on time, eating right, never taking shortcuts, listening and learning constantly.

Role Models aren’t noticed until they are. We don’t think about them but then we figure it out and realize that we want to be like them. How they carry themselves, How they behave.

And most of all, how they treat others.

You might notice the absence of the Motivators from this list. I’ve never cared much for the rah-rah people. I would have run through a brick wall for my high school football coach but he was quiet and rarely yelled. I would have busted bricks to please him, because he had convinced me that I could do it.

So, what are you?

Being Healthy

 

If you read this space regularly, this is gonna be one of those “I’ve heard it all before” columns.  I’m recycling an old sermon. Not literally, but the same ideas and advice.

It’s all about being healthy. A little background—I was riding bikes recently when someone I just met tried to guess my age. Let’s just say she missed it badly. I think it was more her eyesight than anything else. I guess, from a distance, you can’t see the wrinkles and all that.

Anyway, I do put a lot of effort into staying healthy—not necessarily younger, just active at my age, any age.

I believe you should exercise daily. That doesn’t mean a 50 mile bike ride or hours in the gym. It doesn’t mean hiking the Appalachian Trail or swimming the English Channel. Although those are worthy endeavors, they’re not necessary. And definitely not for everyone.

You just need to MOVE! I really don’t care what you do (I really don’t) as long as you just do something to move your body. I do think it helps if you get your heart rate up a bit and a little sweat along the way never hurt anybody.

I’ve talked about the resources we have around here. Take advantage of those! If you just go for a walk, that’s great. All you need is a good pair of shoes. No fancy equipment. No personal trainer.

We don’t really do that enough. I’ve talked about green space here before. There is absolutely no doubt in my mind (and it’s backed up by tons of research) that our emotional health is improved by a walk in the woods.

You don’t have to go far to find that. I’ve told you about Jarvis Park. Minutes from downtown Maryville. Twenty-six miles of Greenbelt lacing through our cities. And if you can find a more serene stretch of downtown walking trail than the segment of the Greenbelt that runs from the tennis courts at Sandy Springs Park to Montvale Road, I want to see it.

Sure, at some point, you may want to take it up a notch or two. I’ve preached about strength training as you get older—particularly important for women in the fight against osteoporosis. And things like Yoga and Tai Chi help keep us moving.

I talk often about what you should and shouldn’t eat. The best and easiest advice to follow is avoid white sugar and white flour. And High Fructose Corn Syrup.  Those things will kill you. They are at the very top of what is called the “Glycemic Index,” which means avoid them at all costs.

Yeah, most of us eat more carbs than we should, but after a lifetime of a high carb/low fat diet, I can blame my high blood pressure and atherosclerosis on all those carbs. I just hope that a drastic switch in my diet over the past ten years makes a difference.

Sunscreen. You’ve gotta use it. A lot of cancers start with skin cancer, which then migrates to body parts that we can’t live without. Sunscreen even in winter, when the sun’s rays are still dangerous. 

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again (and again, and again), have a primary care physician that knows you by name. That knows your medical history. Have honest conversations with that doctor. They’re trained to

And if you smoke, well, dadgummit, you’ve got to find a way to stop. There’s just no fudge room there. It. Will. Kill. You. Sooner or later but probably sooner.

Helene

 

Sometimes an event happens that is so catastrophic, so tragic, that normal activities seem even abnormal.

I’m talking about the flooding and devastation last week in upper East Tennessee and western North Carolina. By now, you’ve probably seen all the media reports on how horrible it is.

Last week, we got about 8 inches of rain at my house, which is an extraordinary amount for such a short period of time. Yet, in Asheville, they got over two feet! All the rain that hit the mountains quickly traveled down into the valleys below, creating floods at never-heard-of levels.

I knew that Erwin and Newport were hit hard but it really hit home when I saw a video of helicopters evacuating patients from the rooftop of the Unicoi County Hospital. I had heard about it and sort of assumed it was an orderly removal of patients from a helicopter pad.

It wasn’t. It wasn’t an orderly evacuation. It was a rescue.

It hit home about how important our hospitals are, even small, community hospitals in maybe remote regions.  Those hospitals serve an important purpose and are an essential asset to their communities.

It also hits home that not everyone has access to quality health care. That there are doctors and nurses and physical therapists working in places that don’t have the amenities found in bigger cities. Health care professionals that choose to live in underserved and rural communities.

I saw videos of entire homes being swept away by raging floodwaters. Nasty, churning, brown water that is powerful beyond our imagination. Trailers are particularly susceptible but I saw entire homes swept off their foundations and quickly broken apart.

Homes where the contents will be so scattered that the families that lived in them will never find any evidence of what they left behind in. In one particularly macabre scene, I saw a video of a casket floating down the river.

I saw bridges that you might think could hold up to most anything crumble as though they were made of Tinker Toys. Can you imagine how long it will take Interstate 40 through the Smokies to be fully restored?

I saw a map of access to Asheville. All roads in and out were closed. No power. No cell service.  I read one story of a fellow who hiked 11 miles to check on his parents, finding stranded folks all along the way as roads were either destroyed or impassible.

I heard about the Tennessee National Guard rescuing people and dropping massive loads of supplies off in places where only helicopters could reach. It’s often been said that in the event of a crisis, look for the people running toward the problem.  There seems to have been plenty of those.

I’ve seen a bunch of local folks and businesses gathering supplies and arranging for transportation to areas without water, power, food, or shelter. This won’t be a one-time, short-term thing. These folks are going to need a lot of help for a long time.

I would ask that you open your hearts, your wallets, and maybe even your homes to those that so desperately need help right now. 

Throws like a girl?

 

I remember where I was the first time I heard the phrase.  “She doesn’t throw like a girl.”

It was at the baseball field in downtown Loudon and the person they were referring to you was a middle-aged woman that could throw like a rocket. She was actually playing on a men’s softball team (back then, they didn’t have softball teams for women where I grew up).

Throws like a girl. Runs like a girl. Not exactly compliments. Well, not compliments at all. Used derisively. 

And what I heard back in the day (she doesn’t throw like a girl) is really a slap in the face too. The person may have meant it as a complement but it really wasn’t. It implies that girls aren’t supposed to throw well.

So, what does it mean to “throw like a girl?”

Let me tell you about a couple of softball players I know. I remember one of them who played softball at Maryville Little League. Twelve years old, playing center field, and she retrieves a ball that made it all the way to the fence and in one move, she picks up the ball and throws a line drive that was about a foot off the ground, and just to the catcher’s left, picking off the runner who thought they had an easy score.

Did she throw like a girl?

Maybe you watched with me the Olympic sprinters this year. Did you see Sha’Carri Richardson?  Did you see Tara Davis-Woodhall in the long jump?

Did they run like a girl?

So, what do these people mean by that? I suppose it is a phrase that is meant to describe a weak throw with bad mechanics. Or a running gait that is equally inefficient and ineffective.

I’ve seen people of either gender throw ineffectively. With bad mechanics. And then couldn’t hit the broad side of a bar door.   I’ve seen others that look like they’ve never tried to run fast in their life.

But maybe there’s a thread of truth in what they say.  Can more boys than girls throw a ball effectively? Efficiently? With great body mechanics?

Yeah, probably so. But why? Once, long ago, I talked about the fact that when I was at Maryville Little League, we struggled to fill four girls’ softball teams while having full squads for twelve little boys’ baseball teams.

It just seems like folks believe it is more important for their little boys to play sports than it is their little girls. That means that fewer girls get to work on developing good throwing mechanics. Or develop the muscles that it takes to throw effectively. And run fast.

Remember the girl that pitched in the little league baseball world series? Girl could pitch! I don’t think anybody told her that she pitched like a girl. She might hit them with a nasty curve if they had.

When I was growing up, we threw something all the time. Footballs, baseballs. We would have contests to see who could chuck a rock at a sign and hit it the most. Walnut season meant a whole new arsenal of projectiles. And yes, my buddies were all male back then.

We need to provide our young girls with opportunities to lead active lives.

You want healthy female adults that cannot be pigeonholed as “only girls” when they grow up? Let them run and jump and throw. Let them swim and bike and play anything that they want to.  Climb rocks.  Chuck walnuts at signs. Provide your little boys with the same opportunities.

Then maybe one day we won’t need to categorize anyone as throwing “like a girl.”