Have Jillian, Will Travel

I posted awhile ago about being concerned with going on vacation while trying to keep my eating problem under control. (I guess since I don’t have a drinking, drug, gambling or p0rn problem, all that’s left is eating because there has to be something, right?) Well, now that vacation time is almost here, I’m feeling pretty good about the strategy I have in mind.

Like Shari, I want to enjoy everything to the fullest while I’m away and that of course includes food. You’re not going to find me dutifully recording everything in my little calorie log while I’m hanging out with family and friends. And I already have several plans of going out to eat with different people; I’m going to be enjoying the company too much to be worrying about the numbers.

Why I stopped running…

This is a true story…I posted in on my blog, but think it might deserve to be here too.  It is really why I stopped running in 1994.

After giving up running almost fifteen years ago, about a year ago, I started again…getting myself back into shape and keeping from having to buy new pants…call me cheap.

I stopped running about 15 years ago.

It turned out that there was a new sport developing among teenagers close to my house…and it involved two teams. One team was composed of a vehicle full of teenagers and the other being various innocent runners, bikers, walkers or, as they were referred to by the kids…targets.

Before getting out of the Army, I had been running for years and had even recently completed a Marathon a few months before this first “incident.”

I would always run on the sidewalks with traffic at my back…and this evening was no different.

It was a muggy July evening at I was running at my normal rhythmic pace. I had this way both breathing that was almost hypnotic…

“Shhh…Shhh…Pffft…”

“Shhh…Shhh…Pffft…”

(Two breaths in through my nose and one long breath out of my mouth.)

After a few miles of this breathing, a person really gets “lost” in the pattern. The miles can really add up and any pain can be erased by both the pattern and the good supply of oxygen supplied to the body.

On this night, I was running with traffic zooming at my back…

“Shhh…Shhh…Pffft…”

“Shhh…Shhh…Pffft…”

“Shhh…Shhh…Pffft…”

THWAPP!

Down I went. Something hit me in the ribs. For all I knew, I had just been shot. Five years overseas in the Army, including some time in the desert and I had come back without an injury. After a week in the resort town of Virginia Beach, I was down.

I sat up and felt my ribs…sore…but no blood.

Looking on the sidewalk, I saw what hit me…an empty bottle of Miller Lite.

 Damn kids!

It took about ten days before I was both healthy and brave enough to get back to running again.

But this time, no running with my back to traffic. I would face traffic so I could see what was coming…

“Shhh…Shhh…Pffft…”

“Shhh…Shhh…Pffft…”

“Shhh…Shhh…Pffft…”

I saw it coming this time…even before the bottle left the little Ranger truck.

Before they let go of the bottle, I dodged left, leaping off of the sidewalk and even changing my pace to throw them off…

WHOOOSH…the bottle wasn’t even close this time.

“HA-HA!” I exclaimed…out loud even.

Facing traffic was the perfect plan.  I was surely too smart for these under-aged drinking teenagers. Back to running and after about another 1/2 mile…

“Shhh…Shhh…Pffft…”

“Shhh…Shhh…Pffft…”

“Shhh…Shhh…Pffft…”

I had my rhythm back and my pace was picking up…

“Shhh…Shhh…Pffft…”

“Shhh…Shhh…

THWAPP!!!!

Right in the neck.

They won and for 15 years, I retired from the game.