Now, I run because I’m afraid of not being able to run.  I feel young and capable and alive when my feet contact the sidewalk and the sidewalk pushes me forward another step.  But no longer do I bound from the house and sprint away for that first blazing mile.

Mile 1 is now slow and steady.  I think about my feet, my legs, my arms; loosening joints and muscles and slowly building into a reasonable pace.  There are twinges of pains and twitches of muscles that must be extracted from the body.   Mile 2 is where the mind starts to drift.   Thoughts about tomorrow’s calendar and the balance of the to-do list.  Reflections about the nice words I received from a friend, and the hug I owe my wife.   Mile 3 is the fantasy football mile.  For the love of all things green and peaceful, why do I still play this ridiculous game?  Two running backs…the better is a game time decision, but the worst plays in the early game.  Who do I pick?  Who do I pick?  Oh,  I know it doesn’t matter, but I hate losing to those other mouthy guys.  Mile 4, the mind drifts back to the body.  The legs are tiring earlier than years previous,  but I know that age should offer endurance as a replacement for speed.  So I ponder whether to pursue mile 5.  Yes, I pursue.

Mile 5 is the mailbox mile.   “There is no way I can make it up this hill,” I tell myself, “but I can make it to the yellow mailbox.”  And then to the fire hydrant.  And to another mailbox.  I see another runner, approaching from the opposite direction.    My stride is quicker and longer now.  I steady my breath and return to my 1000 yard stare;  I am the essence of agile, conditioned athlete.  We approach.  I glance, waiting for the right distance to acknowledge.  At 15 feet, the other runner breaks focus and glances my direction.  I give a half-wave and quick smile to my fellow pacer.  He acknowledges with an abbreviated nod as we separate in opposite directions.   After a few more seconds, I decide to walk to the next mailbox.

When the heat of summer passes, I’ll gain a few more seconds of speed and a mile or two of distance.  But that, too, will be slowly consumed by the years ahead, which is perfectly fine and normal.    I am grateful for each hour that I have both health and family to enjoy.    I know that at anytime fate and circumstance can change everything that I now enjoy – either consciously or passively.  So I’ll accept the slower miles and twitchy runs as nature’s way of giving me more time outdoors.  I just wish those mailboxes weren’t so far apart.

Even back in high school,  I knew the indoors ain’t for me.
The only office that I’d ever need was that majestic old oak tree.
So I bought me a travelin’ trailer; named her the Ramblin’ Rainbow,
Packed some duds, drank a cup of luck, and headed off to where the wind blows.

Early one misty morning, after 8 months on the road,
I heard an angel’s voice outside my Rainbow’s old back door.
A lady introduced herself; said her name was Patty Gold.
Her cash was gone, her car was dead — she had no place to call home.

I found my Patty Gold, at the end of my Rainbow.
Although her luck was cold, her heart could melt an ice flow.
We shared our stories, we shard some laughs, we even shared some spit.
Quietly I asked myself, “Is this as good as life can get?”

I traveled with my two best friends – my Rainbow, and my gal.
We met the American people, who make this country proud.
We cried with moms, we prayed with priests, we drank with Tennessee.
But the sweetest sip of this entire trip was the girl right next to me.

I found my Patty Gold, at the end of my Rainbow.
Although her luck was cold, her heart could melt an ice flow.
We shared our stories, we shard some laughs, we even shared some spit.
Happily, I told myself, “This IS this as good as life can get!”

Twenty seven years have passed since she walked into my life.
My hair’s long gone, my belly’s fat, but that girl is still my wife.
I’m blessed to live ten thousand days and to feel the American plight.
And to curl up close with the girl I love on ten thousand starlit nights.

I found my Patty Gold, at the end of my Rainbow.
Although her luck was cold, her heart could melt an ice flow.
We shared our stories, we shard some laughs, we even shared some spit.
After all this time, there is no doubt, this is as good as life can get.

copyright 2010

—- Well, that’s it folks.    Should I keep my day job?

In 2010:

- A relative died.  Middle aged, hard working, good guy.  Father of a young teen. Irreplaceable to the lives around him.  His son still leaves messages on his dad’s Facebook page.  This makes me cry.

- Someone I love questioned my priorities.  This was something I had to think about deeply.   I work hard when at work.  I love hands-on volunteering and do this as much as possible.  I coach and have a great time with the kids and other adults.  I will play any sport – albeit average at best – and enjoy the game with teammates.  I enjoy drinking with drinkers,  praying with prayers, playing with players, and helping with helpers.  I’m not perfect.    If you don’t like me, tell me you don’t like me.  That’s cool.  But my priorities are are ok – at least for me – and I have no regrets about how I spend my time.

- I volunteer at a facility that supports families of sick children.  I spoke to a family who had just lost their child.  I did a terrible job of providing comfort and a caring shoulder.  I wasn’t ready for that moment at that time.  I wish I could have that moment over again.  But it was an important lesson I will not forget about being prepared.    Later I met another mother whose son was in critical condition following an accident.  The first time I met her, she was in tears, in shock, and virtually not functional.  The second time I met her, she had accepted being a mother of a disabled child. She was smiling, grateful for the grace of God who gives her the strength to continue, and the amazing support of friends and strangers providing endless help.  It was the highlight of my year.   The following week, I saw the child’s name in the newspaper obituaries.  I’m sure I will never see the mother again.   I’ve said prayers for her.   Maybe I helped just a little.  I hope she finds peace and is able to be a wonderful mother to her other son.  I should note that at this same facility, I have seen countless families celebrate a disease beaten and return home together.  Such joy!

- And this year I’ve met two old friends who have terminal cancer.  They might see 2011, maybe 2012.  Or they might not see summer.  Only God knows.  But every day they face challenges and a perspective that I can not imagine.  I admire them tremendously.  Blessings and strength to you, my friends.

- Above all, I’ve continued to enjoy all aspects of being a father to my boys.   I will never forget our first hike on the Shenandoah trail this year.  Or snowboarding in the park.    Or laughing uncontrollably from too little sleep and too much sugar.  We blamed gas odors on the cat and mom.  We played ping pong, football, basketball, and Wii.  We played for fun, yet someone was always mad when they lost.  And then we laughed again over ice cream.

I have grown in 2010.  I certainly regret mistakes this year  and years past but I wouldn’t exchange the resulting growth for anything.  These are my cards and I’m blessed to play them each and every day I see my beautiful family and the great outdoors.  The people who have intersected my life this year have made an unexpectedly large impact.  A “thank you” seems weak and inappropriate because of some of the circumstances, but I think each of you nonetheless for your time, example, courage, and strength.

We all know that tomorrow is likely, but not certain.  And the day thereafter is probable but a little less certain yet.  Live, people!  Live for your God, your family, your community, and yourself.  Enjoy the toys in life, but savor the moments.  They are precious and limited and beautiful.

May each of you find peace, comfort, health, and growth in 2011.

I want to make my community, and hopefully my country, a thriving place to live for our current and future citizens. I love this country, its history, and its remarkable diversity.
In every fiber of my being, I don’t think I can be influenced by money, power, or privilege. I like problem solving, and achievement. My passions are family, outdoor activity, education, and volunteering. From my experience, money and power have little impact on my passions. If I am elected, and you see that I’ve been influenced, then call me out. And I know you will.
I make decisions based on fact – perhaps to a fault – but this is my methodology. I want to hear your perspective, but tell me based upon facts, data…something measurable or observable. I will let your thoughts soak in before I make an immediate decision or response. But please don’t tell me about some specific experience relating to your brother-in-law. I don’t care. Think broadly. Think long-term. Expect me to say, “I don’t know” frequently. I am not an expert on every subject. I will not fabricate answers. I will answer when I have an answer to give.
I will listen to you without interrupting; do the same for me. And don’t repeat yourself. I heard you the first time. I love great speakers. Show me your passion and excitement about your ideas. But do not yell at me. It is not productive, I don’t deserve it, and it’s annoying.
I believe without hesitation that improvements to family and self-accountability could have a greater impact on education, crime reduction, and overall healthcare than any other factors. If you disagree, do not vote for me.

With respect to families, I understand the reality of today: divorce will happen, and two parents will work. The 1950’s are gone. But family, regardless of form, can still do its job. Kids need help with homework every night. Yes, every night. Schools need volunteers. Children need parents to play with them outdoors – walking, golf, basketball, bird watching, whatever. Be involved with them outdoors. Teach them to volunteer. Give them time. A great generation of children means a great generation of Americans.

With respect to self-accountability, I do not need to say much. If you don’t want the government to support you, then do a better job of taking care of yourself – physically, mentally, and financially. If you do those things and still need assistance, there is absolutely no shame in accepting help. We have a great government which provides those services for a reason. Alternatively, if you choose to put minimal effort into yourself while maximizing benefits from your fellow citizens, I feel sorry for you but will probably not change your outlook, so vote for the competitor.

I made mistakes as a youth. If you want to dig them up, that’s ok. I will not publish them myself, but I will not deny facts. I am sorry for a few past decisions, but not ashamed.

I do not understand the difficulties of living in violent ,unstable neighborhoods. But I know that people have climbed their way out to great success. I want to understand how they did it, and if their approach could be expanded to a community, or a country. Outside of uniformed men and women, I have no greater respect for those who have succeeded from the worst of times.

I have never been a minority (except in my Yoga class). I have never experienced discrimination, but I do not believe that I discriminate against anything except narrow-mindedness. If you see me discriminate, call me out. And I know you will.

I am not a constitutional expert or lawyer. I recognize the complexities of balancing freedoms and rights with responsibility and constant change, although I don’t have a perfect solution . I love this country and I promise to give total effort to this job. I promise to be honest. I promise to listen. Each and every day, I promise to serve with the respect your vote deserves.

That is what I will say, if I choose to serve some day.