2) The Turning Point

I suppose there's something quite ironic about the fact that a portion of my 3 mile walk is through a cemetery, and even more ironic is that it contains my "Turning Point". So essentially I'm running INTO a cemetery so that I stay OUT of a cemetery! I suppose I should explain.

One of the major reasons that I am taking on this task of running the Boston Marathon is to get myself in shape and lose at least 50-75 pounds. As a start. I just turned 47 years old and on Thursday my doctor informed me that my Body Mass Index (BMI) is literally "off the chart" that they have posted on the wall next to the scale. And not just barely off the chart, but off of it by a couple of inches if they extended to include my weight! She said it with a laugh, but I have no doubt that she was not laughing inside. Neither was I.

At my current weight of 276 pounds, I am classified as "Morbidly Obese", a term that is much uglier than the friendly "portly" or "big boned" adjectives that I have used during the majority of my life to describe my weight. Believe it or not, it suddenly dawned on me that the only reward that I see for remaining at such an elevated weight is an early seating at the cemetery of my choice. I'm sure heaven's a nice place (I'm making an assumption about my future membership here...) but I really kind of like my Existence here on earth and would prefer to stay here as long as possible, with my wife, family and friends. I mean, I haven't even been to Branson, MO yet! lol

I started my 3 mile walk on Monday, and even though my shins were killing me due to not using my legs like they are supposed to be used for the last 20 years ("shin splints"), I crossed the finish line at Home just under the one hour mark (58 minutes and 8 Seconds to be exact). And while I actually considered playing the "If your muscles start to hurt too much, go ahead and stop walking for the day" card that my trainer Rick had given me, I persevered and pushed through the pain. (On a sidenote and a question I still don't have an answer too, how I am supposed to get home if I'm a mile away from home and I decide to stop walking?) In any event, I did make it home and was somewhat surprised to learn that my shins did not snap and fall off my legs, and with a little ice, felt much better after 20 minutes.

The weather gods were very nice on Monday, with temps in the upper 60s, and they repeated the gesture on Tuesday, with temps in the lower 70s! The evil Shin Splints reared their ugly head again, but I had done some stretches before I left and this time they didn't seem to be as severe so I was able to knock ~3 1/2 minutes off my time to finish at 54:33!

Then came Wednesday and with it, rain. I decided to wait it out and see if it would pass, but as noon rolled around, it continued to come down even harder. As I have done for pretty much my entire life, I saw a perfect opportunity to skip this day and blame the rain. In addition, I had no doubt that I could convince Rick that I had taken his advice and given my poor overworked legs and muscles a break for fear of doing major damage. And even though times in the mortgage business (my occupation) are slow right now, I was positive that there were some files to shuffle or phone calls to make and answer. I was sure that I could even create a few more excuses on demand, if needed, to convince myself and everyone else why I was not able to give a 100% commitment to my project that Wednesday. I decided to call it a day and took my running shoes off.

But then something happened. Something I hadn't experienced before. It was almost as if I was getting sick from the guilt that lay inside of me. Guilt that I was lying to myself, to Rick, to my wife Mary, my friends and family as well as everyone* at the "Turning Point" cemetery who, even though they probably don't know it, are supporting me. I put my shoes back on and headed out the door. To make a long story short, I arrived back Home 30 seconds faster than the day before, my shins still killing me, and completely soaked from head to toe. I really don't recall ever being more proud of myself or ever feeling better.

It may not seem like much to anyone outside my head, but this was a turning point for me. Without everyone's support, I have little doubt that I would have put my shoes back on and walked those 3 miles in the rain. But I did, and I have continued to walk the 3 miles everyday since. Thank you.

Me, Saturday June 7th

Everyone At The Turning Point Cemetery
Hello Carla. Same to you Newell.
Nice seeing you Augusta. How's it going Al?
Clarence, do you mind if I call you Larry
To rhyme with your neighbor to the north, Harry?
I know you don't know me, nor me know you,
But thanks for the support, see you tomorrow,
sleep well.