August 24, 2010 - Save the Whale(s)

Not sure who invented the mirror, but I’m not exactly a fan right about now. You see, I had an interesting encounter with one this last weekend when Julia and I traveled to Flagstaff to watch Jason’s football team play the first game of the season. Wonderful game in which two top 25 in the country teams faced off and the good guys won. That, however, had to take a backseat to my discovery.

Julia and I checked into our hotel early in the afternoon on Friday with the goal of just enjoying a three day weekend and taking advantage of the cooler weather and green that you never see in Phoenix. We surveyed the room, found it a little small, but certainly good enough for our needs. The bathroom, however, was the size of a postage stamp. I’m sure you all have been in one. It was so small, you almost had to climb in the tub to close the door.

In itself, that wasn’t the problem. You can always find workarounds for those situations. However, early Saturday in the morning I found myself in the bathroom after my shower with just a fogged up mirror and a fat guy staring back at me. Sad thing was, it wasn’t just any fat guy, it was me.

Not sure if it was the smallness of the room or what, but it really struck me that maybe it wasn’t the room that was causing the tight quarters, it might just be me. Over the last year, I have been very successful at staying healthy. That is the good thing. Yet, during that time I have also been very successful at gradually adding a little bit of weight every month. Too much, in fact.

In reality, I really don’t weigh that much more than I did five years ago, it’s just that it has somehow moved to unflattering positions. I’m not quite to the point of needing one of Kramer’s manzieres but I cannot be that far off. I’m starting to look more like a football instead of just watching football. It was at that moment I realized it was time to get it in gear.

I have tried to do some walking now and then, every so often some back yard pool exercises, but I have found more reasons to not do it than do it. It was just a few weeks ago that I actually walked a couple miles and did some water walking in the pool (sounds oldmanish, but my right foot feels a lot better after doing that verses just walking.)

Then I became incredibly stupid and thought that I would top the morning of exercises off with a lap or two swim. That ended about one millisecond after it started. I could not have gone any farther than one body length when my left calf cramped up and my left foot freaked out and contorted into something resembling a dried up mushroom. This was a moment that could have landed on America’s Funniest Videos as I jumped around the pool trying to get rid of the two cramps. So much for swimming -- the perfect exercise.

After that near death experience, I decided I needed a different way to exercise, so I had the boys carry up the elliptical machine that has been sitting comfortably in the lower level since we moved to Arizona. Somehow it lost a screw or two so I had to do some repair work before I actually got started. Then I waited a couple weeks just to get in the right mood. Because of the delay, I utilized the machine as a clothes hanger as I had done for years in Ohio. It wasn’t until I saw the fat man in the mirror that I really took using it seriously, however.

When we returned from Flagstaff Sunday afternoon, I decided that it was now or never. Julia and I will be on vacation in Mexico in six weeks, so I could not put it off any longer. I did not want to look like a beached whale. That night, I ate corn on the cob and tomatoes for dinner as the boys feasted on bacon cheeseburgers and home made macaroni and cheese.

That night was the first night of actually using the elliptical machine for exercise. I thought I could hop on board, put in 30 minutes and feel good about myself. I got the hopping on board part right, but after that it seems like time slowed down. After five minutes of real time and what seemed like five hours of workout time, I was ready for a break. I convinced myself that it was better to be a wimp than die of a heart attack.

Because I negotiate for a living, I felt very comfortable negotiating with myself that I didn’t need to worry about the aerobic portion of the work out, just the amount of calories burned. As a result, I am now up to six minute shots of exercise at a time. In a year, I might actually see that 30 minutes.

August 12, 2010 -- Lessons in Life

Denise Stout passed away this last week after a courageous two year battle with cancer. I never had the pleasure of meeting Denise, but it seems that she was a wonderful person that fought cancer with a toughness that only the wife of a football coach could muster. Kelly, her husband, was Jason’s football coach last year and exemplifies what coaching is all about. He was there to teach kids, not belittle them. He was about learning how to win, but not winning at all costs. When Jason was injured during the Chandler game and had to be transported to the hospital, Kelly was quick to call after the game to check on Jason’s progress.

Denise’s funeral was last Saturday and the church was standing room only. You could tell that both she and the coach are loved by many. This was just the second funeral service that I have attended since I became sick. I’m afraid that I can’t remember everything that was discussed during the service because as hard as I try, I cannot divorce myself from my own situation. Despite the fact that I am doing very well, the fact that Denise was diagnosed just six month before me, hit me hard. It was difficult keeping my emotions in check.

Several people spoke during the service but something that the minister said really hit me. He spoke of this being a time of joy and we should be joyous for the fact that Denise is now with her Maker. This is a very common reflection at times of tragedy, but it is one that I struggle with. It is my belief that there is life after death and that there is a reward for the good that we do, but the aftermath of death is a horrible thing.

Those left behind now find themselves swimming in the dark. Denise left behind a twelve year old son in addition to her loving husband. Having a child was one of the most important things in Denise’s life and I’m sure that she left a huge hole in his life with her death. I’m sure that the reason that she fought so hard was to spend more time with her loved ones.

If there is one thing that has driven me to do everything I can to lengthen my life as much as possible it is because I feel that I have things that are not yet completed, not just with the boys but with Julia also. My passion with life is not about my next vacation, or the Reds or work. Some may think it is about the Dayton Flyers, but that isn’t it either. It is about being with my family and nothing more.

It doesn’t matter if I live to be 98, I think I will still feel that there is more to do. I’m sure Justin might disagree with me this morning as he shuttled off to work. I’m sure he feels as if I nag constantly about the same things. In truth, he is right. I’m sure I nag too much and it generally falls on deaf ears. Jason would undoubtedly agree with Justin as I lecture him daily on the need to do his homework and drink his protein shakes.

Most of my lecturing is about the small things, the picking up of dirty clothes being number one, but all of these little things eventually add up to big things. We all want our children to be the best they can be in everything that they do. We want them to excel in life, not just participate. We want them to get everything out of life that they can and avoid all of the pitfalls that we suffered through in our lives.

What they fail to realize is that the lecturing has a purpose greater than just getting the dirty clothes in the hamper. It is about creating good habits. That is why we all stress brushing their teeth and picking up their toys from the first moment they can comprehend. It is why we become parents in the first place. It is our internal drive to share love with our fellow human beings and there is no better way than to do that with our own children. They may not see it as love, but at its very core, that is what it is.

I just hope that when it is my time, the boys understand why I did what I did. Did keeping their room straight make a huge difference in the world? Of course not, but I hope it eventually will sink in that we all have responsibilities in life, some small and some big, some enjoyable and some not. It is through that learning that we all become good people and good parents like Denise Stout.

Kelly will now have to wade through all of the grief that I am sure he is feeling. He will now have to do the job of two parents. It will be his job to make sure that Jacob understands just how much his mother loved him and how hard she fought to be with him. It is with that knowledge that he might even understand why his mom wanted him to keep his room clean.

August 6, 2010 Learning to Let Go

The wind was constant and almost refreshing. It was blowing so hard and consistent that a stray empty Chick-fil-A bag was pressed against the fence in front of me. It was if it were part of the structure for over an hour. Then the rain started. It almost felt as if I was in Ohio and the memories started flooding back. So many hours watching baseball in conditions that ducks would avoid, it had become part of my being.

But this game was different. I knew if they lost it would likely be the last time that I would watch Justin play competitive baseball. For the last 11 years, watching my first born play the game I love has been an adventure, an adventure that I would miss.

Unlike Jason, who I never thought would be an athlete (obviously incorrectly), Justin was blessed with skills at an early age that made me sure that he would excel at a game that I stumbled through for five years. It was a game that I loved but sorely lacked the skills to play. Justin would be my salvation.

From the moment that he started hitting home runs in coach-pitch, I knew he would be a thrill a minute. It was all or nothing with Justin as he would often walk back to the bench with bat in hand suffering from another strikeout. It seemed like every other year would be a good year and the other a bad one. Was he the kid that threw a no hitter when he was 10 and again when he was 14 or was he the kid that couldn’t throw a strike. As a result, he moved from team to team from the time he was 10 until he was 13 when he finally found a home in Marysville, Ohio.

After years of moving and either being a star or wondering if he would play, Justin truly blossomed. I’ll never forget the day that Chuck Gould called me to let me know he would be on the American Legion “A” team the summer after his freshman year in high school. I really questioned Chuck about his playing time and he assured me it would be fine.

For those not familiar, in Ohio American Legion is very competitive. It is usually made up of juniors and seniors in high school and college freshmen. The fact that Justin would be playing against 19 year olds before he could drive was a bit paralyzing at times. The fact that he hit about .275 and pitched fairly well was a relief. Justin had a good sophomore season on the American Legion team but it was his junior year that would be his best. It was also the year that I wouldn’t get to see him play. I would have to live that season through Julia’s eyes and Justin’s post game updates over the phone as I was 2,000 miles away.

During his high school season that year he pitched the best game ever thrown (statistically) at Liberty High School and led the team in home runs. During the American Legion season he hit over .400 and played a major part in the Union Post 79ers getting to the state tournament. He probably had the best week of his life while at the State Tournament including two tape measure home runs in his first two at bats. He ended up hitting .500 for the week.

Little did we know at the time, but that would be the end. He played fairly well that Fall for his new high school team hitting about .350 and not allowing any runs in the handful of innings he received as a pitcher. Yet, when tryouts came in the Spring, he struggled and didn’t make the team. In Ohio, Division I college teams had expressed some interest, but in Arizona, he couldn’t make the high school team.

The only thing that made the knowledge less devastating was the fact the he had learned earlier in the week that both his grandmother and I had cancer. It was a tough time in his life, but one that made him stronger. It made him find new avenues for friends and things to do. As a result, he become much more well rounded and mature at the same time.

He played the last two summers in a collegiate wood bat league, but the lack of playing in the spring was too much for him to overcome and he struggled with the bat and glove. I could see it in his eyes, but it was hard for me to admit the end was near. Even with just a couple weeks left in the season, I hoped he could catch fire and open a few eyes. But it just wasn’t to be.

It is now obvious to me that he has moved on. It is just hard for me to not remember all of those pitches that I threw to both he and Jason over the years. It’s easier to remember lately since I can’t raise my right arm without wincing in pain from too many batting practice fastballs. The joy of going to the baseball field with the boys over the years will never be taken away from me, but that doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to miss those times.

Jason is still up in the air about playing next year, but I’m sure he might be persuaded. In the end, Jason’s time playing baseball has been far easier as he always played and always did well. He was always one of the best kids on his team and rarely saw the bench. It was easy to puff my chest at Jason’s games. He was always in the middle of things. Enjoyment watching Jason always came easy. He glided while Justin trudged. He flew while Justin chugged. I just hope I get to see more of that gliding and flying.

I think that is why it is so hard for me to watch the end of Justin’s time on the field. There were so many times when I suffered with him while he was on the bench just hoping to get a chance to prove himself. The triumphs were so much more enjoyable when they came. I guess that is why I always root for the underdog, especially when we share the same last name.