What are you trying to prove?

I got a different and somewhat mean-spirited question a couple of weeks ago. “What are you trying to prove?” What do you mean? “I mean all this biking stuff and it always seems like you’re doing something…hiking, traveling. It seems like a man your age should start slowing down.”

Before I could craft an answer, he added “and another thing—isn’t it about time for you to retire?”

I really don’t think this person was being terribly unkind. I think it is a cultural thing. I believe that in his culture, that’s what you do: When you hit a certain age, it’s time to slow down. Sit on the porch. Watch life go by.

“I mean, don’t you think it is time for you to get out of the way so some younger person can have your job?” OK. That one hit all my buttons.

I wasn’t unkind in my response but it was a bit awkward. How do you defend a lifetime of being active? How do you defend 41 years in your job without plans to end it any time soon? So I didn’t. Sort of.

A few days later, I was mountain biking with a best bud and told him the story. His life mirrors mine in many ways. He definitely lives a robust life, unencumbered by candles on a birthday cake.

We chatted about the “why” of leading an active lifestyle. For me, it started with my dad’s first heart attack. If you read this space often, you’ve heard the story before. I tell it too often. But it’s also what has driven me along the way.

On days when I might not feel like exercising or making the right decisions about my health, I remember my dad’s life after 45—limited because of a bad heart. I knew for certain that I didn’t want that.

I can remember the stories of my dad, unable to attend my football games because of that bad heart, sitting by the radio listening to the game and crying because he couldn’t be there.

This grief about an active lifestyle isn’t something that is new to me. I can remember the lunch room at the factory where I worked during college summers. The guys there would make fun of my insistence on whole wheat bread, lean meat, fruit, and vegetables. And it was almost sacrilege not to drink sodas.

To be honest, I discovered that it was a lot easier to stick with it if it was fun. I had a serious Basketball Jones (ask somebody who grew up in the early 70’s). I’ve pretty much always owned a backpack and a bicycle. When my kids were growing up, we did everything. We were outdoors all the time.

I remember thinking that it would be cool to be playing basketball until I was 50. I kept playing until my right knee wouldn’t let me. I was 59. My wife loves to hike so I love to hike. The bicycle…well, you’ve heard that story too much.

I have health issues. I couldn’t escape my gene pool. I see my primary care physician regularly and take a handful of pills every day. But that doesn’t slow me down unless I let it.

So the obvious answer to the “why” of an active lifestyle might also be “because I can.” But that’s not exactly true either. My bike buddy put it best while we were deep in the woods on mountain bikes, having a great time. “It’s not because we can, but because we want to.”

I’m not out to prove anything. I’m doing the things that I want to. I can do those things because I have led an active lifestyle. I can do those things because I refuse to allow birthdays dictate what I do.

I do things like fly down a mountain trail on the back of a bicycle like a 20-something because it is fun. Because I want to. And I’ll continue working until I’m ready not to work anymore simply because I want to.

Junk in the Trunk

I cleaned out my truck last week. Even ran it through one of those car wash things. I do that about once a year, whether it needs it or not. The accumulated junk is massive.

I started with all my medical stuff. I have a big suitcase-looking thing that holds most of my athletic trainer supplies and tools. I keep a red backpack thing that is for real emergencies. It also holds the AED that I always carry. And then there is my splint bag to use in the event of broken limbs.

Then I pulled out bicycle gear. There were things in that part that I had forgotten I even had. I laid everything out on my garage floor and stored away the winter things. Just organizing all that stuff should help me find what I need.

There were three umbrellas in there, two of them broken. A mostly broken folding chair. A variety of clothing items. Several empty coat hangers. Way too many food wrappers. A booster chair for the grandchildren that still need it.

Then there was the loose change and food scraps. More than one bit of orange peel. A dried and blackened banana peel. Too many Frito (my main diet vice) bits—I needed the vacuum for all that. And more than a few of the turf bits from the artificial turf that I find myself on regularly.

I recycled what I could and trashed a bunch of stuff. Bought a new, full-sized umbrella. That cleanup and some sermon notes that a friend shared with me got me to thinking about how we need to clean up our lives from time to time, get rid of the junk.

So what junk do you have that you need to get rid of? You probably clean your vehicle on a regular basis but what junk do you have in your life that you need to discard?

Trying to please others all the time? The pursuit of perfection? Busy-ness? (Those came from my sermon-sharing friend.)

For me, the answers fall into two categories, deep and shallow. On the shallow side, I’ve always got work projects that need my attention. I don’t need to discard them…I need to finish them. I’ve got a presentation to do in June that is going to require a lot of attention. I just need to put those things behind me. I probably should sleep more. Well, yeah, I definitely should sleep more.

On the deep side, I need to give up some bad habits (oh, you didn’t realize I had some bad habits?). I eat too much junk. I work too much. I take on too much. I shortchange some important people in my life because of my tendency to overcommit.

So let me put this in a sports perspective (since this is the Sports Page, after all). What is getting in the way of your sports performance? What is getting in the way of your training?

Is it a lack of full commitment? Is it habits that you need to let go of that are keeping you from being the best that you can be? Are you eating right? Do you find excuses too easy to come by? Are your priorities in order? Are you too well acquainted with your snooze alarm?

Empty those things from your trunk. Get rid of what you don’t need. Lose those traits that are keeping you from being everything that you can be. As for me, I’m going on vacation.

What is the Best Diet?

Diet and nutrition. Are there any two things in the world where there has been more conflicting information put out there than these?

I’ve heard it all. You have too. The Watermelon Diet. The Adkins Diet. Paleo. Low fat, low carb, high fiber, vegetarian, Mediterranean. The Purple Diet (really). It’s impossible to keep up with them all. And it’s just about as impossible to know which one is right for you. 

Let’s start with the basics. Everybody is different. Everybody processes what we put into our body differently. Look at gluten. Twenty years ago we knew nothing about it. But a glutton of gluten (I had to go there) has pushed a lot of people into a nutritional crisis.

Genetically modified grains have increased the gluten content in much of our foods to immense levels. And that overload of gluten has resulted in a lot of folks who might have been a bit gluten sensitive into a full gluten overload. Maybe there is part of it that is that we are more aware of the potential for a problem but the amount of gluten in our foods is still, in my opinion, the reason for the current state of affairs.

Before you condemn the agriculture industry, please keep in mind that all this work in genetic modification was to make our farms more productive…if you will, to produce more food per acre. In light of the fact that nearly 800 million people are undernourished in the world today, that is an admirable pursuit.

My late friend Sam Beall, proprietor of Blackberry Farms, taught me a lot about good nutrition. Sam was known for taking simple foods, locally grown, and preparing them simply with spectacular results. Sam’s advice to me on the back of a bicycle one day was that when you go to the grocery store, everything in your basket should have a simple name. Asparagus. Apples. Butter. Milk. Eggs.

Simple stuff. Bread that would last on your shelf for a month because of preservatives is, by its nature, a bad idea. Long a label reader, I now focus just as much time on making sure that what is in my grocery basket is simple. And it’s important to know where it came from, when that is possible.

Shrimp from a farm in Vietnam? Really? Check into that one. Chicken from a mass production facility? Beef raised in a factory, fed grain-based feed, and injected with drugs to help them grow bigger? Think about it.

Let’s talk about red meat a bit. Much maligned, red meat can be a great source of a lot of good things. For much of my adult life, I avoided red meat, believing that the fat content would contribute to heart disease. Only after adding good red meat to my diet, grass-fed and farm raised, did I start to realize the benefits.

Red meat is loaded with nutrients, vitamins, and essential minerals. Personally, my energy levels increased considerably. Fish (wild caught) and chicken (not from factories) are still the staples of my diet but occasional red meat has a place too.

The biggest dietary change I’ve had was several years ago when I went to a low carb diet. It was difficult at first, as so much of my diet was carb loaded, but after a period of adjustment, I discovered huge health benefits. I no longer had bouts of hypoglycemia, where my blood sugar would drop and I would get shaky. And there’s lots of evidence that a low carb diet is better for your heart.

I will tell you this—a low carb diet is difficult for an endurance athlete. So when I’m going on a bike ride, I adjust my carb intake up a bit and then find that I’m not nearly as hungry on a long ride as I used to be.

The bottom line is still that everybody is different. Everybody has different nutritional needs. There is no single best diet. Nutritionists and dieticians are great resources to help you discover what is best for you with the ultimate goals being better health and a better life.

Looking Beyond the Horizon

“Go as far as you can see and then you will see farther.” I like that quote. It speaks to me on several different levels.

To paraphrase, go as far as you can go. And when you get there, what do you find? Do you find that what you thought was all you could do wasn’t all you could do? Or do you find new horizons, new opportunities?

What are our limits?  What are we capable of mentally? What are our emotional limits? And from an athlete’s perspective, what are our physical limits?

I’m going to go way off on a tangent here. I find that when we attempt to console someone that is going through a tough time emotionally, maybe it is a moment of extreme grief, that our words mean very little. My opinion is that our presence, our friendship is what helps someone the most.

“I know what you’re going through.” No, you really don’t. And if it is the loss of a loved one, I’m not going to tell you “with time, you’ll get over it.” No, you’re not. You are not going to get over it and it’s not going to get easy because you can never really get completely over the loss of someone you love.

But it does get easier. And you will be fine. Just not today. And probably not tomorrow. Maybe that’s too dark for this space but I’ve seen extreme grief over the loss of a game so maybe it does belong. I don’t think I’ve ever seen more tears shed than in the NCAA basketball tournament this year. Lose your last game and turn on the tears.

You’ve put all you had into a game and it didn’t end the way you had dreamed. The only people that can really help you at that point are your teammates. The people that you have trained and worked with for so long. They know. They get what you’re going through because they shared your dreams and your heartbreak.

We really have no idea what our physical limits are. I’ve been near the top of a tough climb on my bicycle and wasn’t sure that I could even get there. But then I get there and I find that I have a little bit more. That I’m ready to take on the next hill.

We ask this sort of thing from our athletes all the time. A pitcher is doing their best and we ask them to dig a little deeper and come up with just a little more. A runner is exhausted but the finish line isn’t close and we ask them to find something within themselves to finish the race.

Go as hard as you can go and then see if you have a little more. A few more lifts. A few more sprints. A little farther. A little faster. A little harder. Work as hard as you can work, and then work a little harder. Athletic excellence is the product of that attitude. 

Some of you know my personal story. Underachiever. Never encouraged academically. Most kids where I’m from were glad to graduate from high school and get a job. I got there and saw another horizon.

I get to college and there are horizons all around me. People from lots of backgrounds exceeding boundaries every day. I graduate from college and I find new horizons out there, new opportunities.

I get out into the real world and find a bigger and bigger world. Opportunities everywhere if you just look and then have the fortitude to chase those opportunities. A life without boundaries. I’m personal testimony to all that. All because I got to the horizon and found more.

When you go as far as you can see, all the way to the horizon, you see another horizon. Go chase that one.

T-Ball Days

I have a bit of a confession to make. I’m not a big fan of T-ball. You know the game. Baseball or softball. Kids, 6-7 years old. Or younger. For most, their first foray into team sports.

My kids played. I don’t remember much about liking it or disliking it. It was almost like it was something that kids were supposed to do. The All-American sport and all that, I suppose.

I’m not sure when the game and I had a falling out. It probably wasn’t anything specific. I just sort of decided that it was largely a waste of time. Lots of standing around. Kids playing in the infield dirt. Long periods of inactivity then bursts of very brief activity. Too much standing around waiting for it to promote an active lifestyle.

None of my first five grandkids showed any interest in T-ball. And then came along Grandkid #6. I don’t know if it was his idea or his parent’s. I just know that he is the cutest thing you ever saw out there with his Yankees uniform on (sidenote—his dad played for the Yankees in his first year of T-ball).

This is a pretty special kid. He was born quite premature, weighing only 3 pounds, 2 ½ ounces at birth. He was supposed to spend 6 weeks in the NICU at Children’s Hospital but he got out before that. I still have vivid memories of this tiny thing in an incubator that was about the size of a squirrel.

Let me tell you that he has overcome that slow start. Just pick him up sometime. Oh. My. Goodness. The boy is thick. Not fat, but if he plays football, he will play with his hand in the dirt. And he will talk your ear off. Off-the-scale perceptive.

And playing t-ball at Maryville Little League. I agree with somebody that observed coaching t-ball was like herding cats but after watching a game on Saturday, I’ve come to really enjoy T-ball. Not just because I have one out there but for the lessons that are learned.

Think about this—you’re taking a bunch of 6 and 7 year olds, getting them where they are supposed to be, and (mostly) getting them to pay attention. Where else are you going to get that?

Oh, they’re still playing at the dirt, completely surprised when a batted ball rolls by them. And I’ve yet to see a successful throw to first for an out. Or a caught fly ball. But I’ve seen energy and enthusiasm and team spirit. And coaches that know that this year of t-ball is not going to make or break their kid’s athletic career.

Whether or not they learn baseball (or softball) skills is not really important. What they are learning is eye/hand coordination and how to throw sand catch something. They learn a little bit about what it is to be a part of a team. They hopefully learn that it is OK to cheer for somebody to do something well, even if they are on the other team.

They’re learning how to be where they’re supposed to be. They’re learning what it means to “run home” even though that concept can be quite confusing. They’re learning simple skills and that mistakes have consequences.  And, yes, they’re beginning to learn life skills.

I was never in favor of games where they don’t keep score. Keeping score gives a game structure and parameters. The kids usually know what the score is anyway. But these kids, knowing who “won” and who “lost” doesn’t seem to matter.  As soon as the game is over, all they want to do is get to the post-game snacks.

Just like kids forever.

Walking Home

I attended a track meet recently. Actually, it was a middle school track meet. I was there to cover the high school baseball game next door but I had two granddaughters competing in the track meet so I stuck around the track meet until they ran.

If you’ve never been to a track meet, it’s a lot like a 3-ring circus, with events happening simultaneously all over the place. Jumping here. Running there. Throwing over there. Not usually considered a spectator sport, it can be quite fun.

At a middle school meet, you can see just about everything. Kids that look like they should already be in high school. Little ones that you can’t believe will be in high school in just a year or two. All of them seem serious about what they’re doing. All of them trying hard, doing their best. But this isn’t about a track meet at all. This is about one kid.

I noticed this kid in one of the sprints. It was probably his unusual haircut that made me notice him at first but then I noticed that he was quite good. After my granddaughters competed, I headed over to my baseball game, which had just started. About half way through the baseball game, I could see that the track meet was finished. Now jump ahead about an hour later and I’m driving home. It’s just about dusk and I’m thinking about a pre-bed snack.

Walking along on the sidewalk was that kid that I remembered from the track meet. He looked young, not real big. Still in the clothes he ran in. His backpack on his back, it seemed obvious that he was walking home from the track meet.

That alone isn’t earth shattering. I used to do it by choice from time to time. Or at least ride my bike to and from school. (It’s at this point that my kids roll their eyes and tell you that I led them to believe that I walked miles to and from school every day. In the snow. Barefoot.)

But we were easily a couple of miles from the track. And it seems equally obvious that this young man had walked all the way from that track. I immediately wanted to know his story. I thought about offering him a ride but these days that just isn’t a good idea. If I had known him—different story.

First came the obvious questions. Where were his parents? Did anyone offer him a ride home? Too often, I assume the worst because I’ve seen the worst.

Years ago, I was taking care of a football player from the opposing team. His team didn’t have any medical coverage and his injury was a concussion. His symptoms were mild so I didn’t send him to the hospital but I did want to talk to his parents.

“Where are your parents,” I asked. “They’re not here.” OK...this was a varsity high school football game. Friday night. “Where are they.” It turns out dad was probably at home watching TV and mom was at a church meeting. Unbelievable.

So after assuming the worst (negligent parents), I turned to the best. This kid might have great parents but both of them had to work on this particular evening. And maybe he just wanted to walk home on this nice spring evening or didn’t want to bother the parents of his friends.

Regardless of the circumstances, there are lessons to be learned. Every kid needs a support system. Sure, this kid might be learning independence, self-support, diligence…but I can’t imagine a world in which there was no one there at the track meet to support him. To cheer him on. To lift him up if he were to fall short. To let him know that he is loved regardless of circumstances or outcomes.

I suppose I’ll get to know this kid a bit as he moves into high school. Especially if he’s ever injured. I will be looking for him. I already know that I am a big fan of his. I hope I get to see what kind of man he grows into being. I bet he does good things with himself. I will be watching.

12 Questions

I’m a big fan of the magazine Men’s Journal. Yeah, I know…still reading magazines makes me a dinosaur.  I do actually read printed material. And I love the feel of a newspaper. Part of the joy of Sunday morning is getting a real newspaper in the mailbox.

One of the recurring features in Men’s Journal is this question and answer thing on the last page. It really doesn’t matter much who it is. Sometimes it really isn’t someone that you want to emulate.  I guess I just like that format.

So since those magazine folks aren’t knocking down my door to interview me, I figured I would do it myself. I’ve done something like this before. My wife will probably tell me “enough with the self-interviewing.” But I do it anyway. Oh well.  So here goes.

What is the best advice you ever received? A job worth doing is worth doing it right. I didn’t realize it at the time but I got a lot of those kind of tidbits from my dad. I built a tree house one time with him sitting at the base of the tree insisting that I do it right.

Who were your heroes growing up?  That’s easy—high school football players. Butch Crabtree. Raymond Stamey. David Messamore. I wanted to be like them. No doubt that was part of growing up in a small town, but I think it holds true today. These days I watch kids playing on the field after a high school game, arguing about who gets to be Tee Hodge or Spencer Shore. Don’t take that role lightly guys.

What advice would you give your younger self?  Believe in yourself. Believe you are worthy. I was so insecure and a huge underachiever. I was in high school football before anybody other than my parents thought I would be a productive adult.

How should a man handle getting older?  With a sense of humor and a bottle of ibuprofen. And remember that you’re not in your 20’s anymore so don’t act like it and don’t dress like it. But you can dance like it.

What role should vanity play in a man’s life? Nothing beyond basic hygiene.

How should a man handle criticism? The same way he handles praise. Only about half of it is true.

Who has been the biggest influence on your life? I’ve mentioned my high school football coach here many times. He turned me around. I tell him that every chance I get.

What human trait do you most deplore? Not reaching for your potential.

And what human trait do you most admire? Kindness. It’s terribly underrated.

How should a man handle regret? Consider this—the mistakes that you’ve made in your life have helped you become the person that you are today. If you’re OK with that then you will understand that you really shouldn’t have any regrets.

Who would you invite to your dream dinner party? My dad. I often want just one more conversation with him, to tell him how things turned out. But I guess he knows. Frederich Nietzsche. He had a lot of things figured out. Dietrich Bonhoeffer. He did too. Claude Monet. I’m fascinated by his work. Amelia Earhart. I want to know where she went to. James Taylor for the music.

What adventure changed your life? Probably a Boundary Waters Canoe Trip with the Boy Scouts. It was the second step in me figuring out that I wasn’t that kid that the guidance counselor told “people like you don’t go to college.”