The following story in the pdf is true. Meeting this man changed the way I look at much of life 
and how we approach our daily tasks. You can meet and exceed your personal goals. You just have to be willing to find your mountain and live out your passion. Enjoy.
Winning Routines and The Story of The Bicycle Mechanic – a printable pdf with this weeks exercise log can be found here: 2015 Fall Fit for Today Diet Sheet Week of October 13
One of the tabs at the top of my page is titled Fit for Life. Kind of arrogant really. It’s not like there’s a magic pill or a genie in a bottle who’s going to make and keep you fit for the rest of your life. Fitness is a decision – our decision – and we make it one day at a time.
I believe in BIG goals and dreams. I know they require a well laid out plan with effective action steps that are put into practice day in and day out if you’re ever going to succeed. It’s the same with fitness. Whether you want to lose 200 pounds, take off 20 or you’re just battling to shake off those final stubborn few, it’s all the same. Eat less. Move more. Today. That’s it.
You can spend a bunch of money on some fancy gym or diet and if you stick with it – you’ll find success. I’ve discovered that almost every plan and routine is successful for those who stick with it. Same with Fit for Today. Except that this year I’m posting everything on my website as well as on fb and it’s free, gratis, nada… jump right in and get just as fit as you’d like.
If you want to make contact or ask questions just use the contact form at the top of the Fit for Life link and I’ll get back to you. Each week there are new forms to download in a simple pdf format that you can then print out on your own or load them to your phone or computer. And if you live in our area, you’re always invited to join us Tuesday evenings for a weigh in, lesson, a little help from each other and sometimes even a walk together.
Today I’m posting one of my favorite pieces I wrote a couple of years ago about my very own downfall – afternoon breaks at Starbucks and “The Cautionary Tale of an Oatmeal Cookie.” Read it, believe it, take it to heart next time you wonder why you just can’t shake those final few pounds. Your body can be a beautiful Ferrari or you can clunk around in an old Ford Station Wagon – with our health, for most of us, it’s our choice – and for almost all of us… we can do better. I know I can. You’re Invited!
Click the photo to view Memorial Day Weekend in 1 minute. It’s just a minute 🙂
Building. It’s the first part of our work in meeting the needs we face surrounding our work in Mexico. This little video reduces months of planning, preparation and the final days of construction to just 1 minute. It was an amazing weekend with good food, good friends, great times together and some hard work. Our work that began so simple has in so short a time become a lifesaving work that we only imagined on our very best days. God is too good.
Pastor Ken McDaniel again made everything look easy. I know he has an amazing team of people- from Mark Berg at the front end of the plans to Miguel as his work mate and translator through to the end of the task. It’s such a blessing to work with Ken.
Soon the first Teen Cottage@Siempre will be filled with boys. Our prayer is that this new facet of the community at Siempre Para Los Ninos will help our teens prepare to meet the real world demands that are placed on them so quickly. Please join us in praying God’s Grace over the first uncertain steps the kids take together in this move.
Old Yeller made us cry, no matter how many times we watched it. Lassie convinced us that he really knew that Timmy was in the well and could get help, or even pull him out on his own. We knew all the words to the theme song for Underdog: “speed of lightning, roar of thunder – fighting all who rob or plunder – Underdog… Underdog!” We even listened to songs about dogs… from “Hound Dog” to Dr. Demento’s weekly standard. Dogs occupied both ends of the radio dial, from our childhood through our teens.
I’ve always had a dog. They run with me, sleep next to my bed, keep me awake nights, start my morning rituals, give me something to complain about and have been fodder for a thousand stories. Not today.
Over 13 years old, had to have Hunter put to sleep yesterday. Paid a vet $140- to put a needle in his forearm, holding his head in my hands- I asked: “How long will it take?” Looking down, Hunter was gone, the vet walking out of the room said: “Take all the time you need.” I knew his room really wasn’t available to me for that long- so I kissed my old dog on the head one last time –stood, did my best to “be a man” and headed out to the car where we’d taken our last ride together.
Perspective: thousands lost nearly everything in the storms of Oklahoma, 5 H.S. kids lost their lives Monday in an accident on Jamboree, Debi’s dad died this month, this week marks the 5th anniversary of mom’s death… in the big scheme of things, Hunter was just a dog, I get that. I’ve never had time for people who let their dogs wander around blind, deaf, incontinent, senile and barely able to walk – but I get it – that’s been Hunter for the last 6 months and I’ve just not been able to face the harsh reality that after 13 years another old friend, an important part of our family life, was gone.
Our last dog, Chelsea, an English Setter from the pound, ran with me until one morning when I came downstairs she couldn’t get up to walk. Nearly 12, waiting for the kids to go to school and Debi to work, made that same last sad drive with her. Said I’d never get another dog. Within weeks Julia and I were wandering in and out of the pounds again looking for just the right puppy. It took several months but soon we walked in on Hunter and it all just clicked. Smart, funny, loyal and a righteous pain in the neck when he wanted to be, Hunter was the first dog I’d owned who could easily do my long runs of up to 20 miles. Always in great shape – the one time he refused to listen was when he got out the front door – dumb dog was next to impossible to catch.
25 years and just 2 dogs – pretty blessed. Hunter’s out again. I’m glad he’s not suffering… but I’m going to miss that stupid, smelly old dog. One of the kids snapped this shot after a morning run five or six years ago. We both look like pups. Debi’s taken good care of us. Never want to make that last drive again. Don’t think I’ll ever get another dog. Next time I get the urge- I’ll just fire up Old Yeller.
SO MANY YEARS. . . .so many months. . .h
ours. . . .minutes . . .and not all of them happy. Count them up – perhaps the sorrows outweigh the joys. It’s strange how one joy can cancel out many sorrows!
The past year seemed to add up more sorrows than joys…nothing evened out when I tried the system of one joy canceling out three sorrows. But the thought came to me as a bright diamond in the dark….these sorrows MAY bring joy SOMEDAY.
When a mother holds her infant until the five-o’clock hour of the dawn as the baby fights for the breath of life…I shall be able to say “take my hand….I understand your anxiety”….when a family lays away a beloved member and the tears fall, fall freely, and they long for a view of a rainbow…I will be able to say, “I’ll cry with you…hold my hand…I’ve walked this way before.” When the heart is bound with grief-a sorrow so deeply hidden within because of a prodigal child…I will say, “Yes, take my hand, I too have walked this way before.” When a mother sits by the hospital bed of her near grown child as he struggles to hold onto the thread of life…I will softly whisper, “Here…hold my hand let’s share together.”
When dreams lie shattered in the dust…the dreams of years of planning and waiting-and the future seems dark, I will say, “Take my hand, I have walked this way before.”
But someday the dawn will break and I shall see the rainbows and the long journey’s end and I reach the moment we all must face when eternity looms out ahead, I am sure at a second’s fraction of time I will reach out and someone will take my hand and say, “I’ve walked this way before – come follow me.”
And this one final joy will cancel out all sorrows.
Ione Denton
from My Alabaster Box
“Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them.” Thoreau
That’s our lawn. Mowed it then took the picture as I left for work. Nothing like standing around, (hands on hips), looking at a freshly mowed yard, smelling the water seep into the earth and thinking: “I did that!”
We’re a simple lot.
Uniformity… we thrive on it…
Odd, considering that sticking out from the crowd, that which makes us not so very uniform is the heart of both The Passover and Easter. The Biblical account of The Passover has the redemptive moment where God rescues His own… but not until the Egyptians are good and ready to be rid of them. The Easter Story of Christ rightly celebrates His resurrection and His invitation to eternal life… but not until His own followers turned away from Him, betrayed Him and the community at large brutally crucified Him – ready to be done with The One who stuck out so uniquely.
Folks stood up – got knocked down – and redemption was discovered in getting back up… even if that meant sticking out. It’s why, how, we remember those who stood, spoke – against all odds – not for themselves but for The Promise of redemption.
Uniformity… there’s no real reason we have a lawn – much less TWO lawns. We rarely use them. They cost us money. They’re hard on the environment. They’re insanely non-productive and yet we keep and tend them. They’re our small part in one of our nation’s most expensive, homegrown efforts (almost said grassroots) to throw money into the wind. 32 million acres of America irrigated for lawns, “…the largest irrigated crop in the country” nearly every blade of it thrown onto the waste heap.
Who does that? Why? We don’t even give it a thought. Our neighbors have lawns. The surrounding communities have lawns. City’s employ “code enforcement” workers – who – as part of their job, make sure everyone’s keeping things in order with their lawns. Why not? They feel great on bare feet. They’re a hedge against the reality of our urban lifestyles. They display our wealth. They’re green… millions of little blades chopped down to look like one… uniformity. Admit it… they make you smile.
Questions will be asked as families gather for Passover, among them will be: “Why is this night different from all other nights?” Stories will be told. Lifestyles examined. Faith and The Faithfulness of God to redeem us will again be considered anew. Great reasons to find new faith will be considered and then the evening, the week will come to an end and hopefully we’ll take some of the discussion with us and find purpose.
Questions will be asked as families prepare for Good Friday communion services, among them will be: “Why do we call it a good day if Jesus was killed?” Parents will struggle to help children understand. Stories will be told. Hearts, faith, understanding examined. Believers will gather in services of community and fellowship around the world and prepare for The Promised resurrection on their knees as we struggle to somehow come to terms with the cost of our uniformity.
Sticking out… it’s always a risk… but our unwillingness to veer off the well trodden path and onto “the road less traveled” is far more expensive. Even as people who profess to “live by faith and not by sight.”
Our questions need to be openly discussed if we have any desire to experience the loving, creative, caring community we have the opportunity to become: “Why is this night different?” “What makes this Friday ‘Good’?” And together we need to talk it out and when called to: stick out… even if it costs us everything. It’s been said that “if you’re not living on the edge, you’re taking up too much space.” Honesty, strength, teamwork, balance and the willingness to take a chance are all out there on the edge.
Uniformity? It’s easy to find. The path is well worn. It blends in. Like a nicely mown lawn.
Thoreau famously wrote “Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them.”
Uniformity… civil society demands that we continue to grease the wheels of the way things are today by doing the same thing we did yesterday in hopes that we might do the same thing again tomorrow… But when the end result is little more than a culture working to tend and care for millions of acres of wasted lawns, feeding or providing for no one, maybe it’s time to ask ourselves honestly the simple question children at The Passover table ask: “Why is this night different from all other nights?” To ask ourselves: “If they killed Him – why do we call it good?”
Maybe we should stay at the table and talk about it until we find the courage of a people who in fear and awe splattered the blood of a lamb above their doors- and prayed for deliverance –if not for themselves, for their children. We should stick together until we find the strength of men and women, who having lost everything at the cross, in fear and hope ran to an empty tomb and discovered The Song of Salvation in The Risen Lord. Maybe it’s time to “stick out” again.
Uniformity… great for machines, militias and simple math… You and me? We were made for The Adventure of Creation – to Stick Out, in the very best of ways – to advance the cause of life and love. We belong together…not like a lawn- but like a vineyard –connected, yet each of us uniquely bringing our own gifts and talents to the table in love…and lifting each other up.
Talking about our rescue, God said: “You must remember this day forever. Each year you will celebrate it as a special festival to the Lord.” (Exodus 12:14) He was saying that not only are we different- but we were to celebrate the day- The One -Who makes us different. On a cross, between two thieves, Jesus, The Lamb of God, promised the thief who asked… the one simply said: “Remember me…” “Today you will be with me in paradise.” (Luke 23:42,43) It’s the promise that each of us who’ve settled to let our minutes… that all too quickly became our lives, steal away like well tended blades of grass in societies lawn, can cling too. He’s our Passover Lamb, willing to stick out on a cross- no concern for the comfort of uniformity –in love for you and for me.
Passover and Easter: The Lamb, an exodus and the cross- the freedom of an open door -they stick out. Our celebrations: around the table, in conversation, on our knees… in worship- build us up when the social restraints of uniformity are broken… if only for The Holy Days. Scripture tells that all creation waits in eager anticipation – not for our uniformity – but of this moment as we step away from all that has occupied us and step into that which we were made for from the beginning. I want to be ready!
Powering his “new” boat into San Francisco Bay – under the Golden Gate Bridge – after a 500 mile ocean voyage.
Even with $200,000- of upgrades done in the last decade, huge new diesel engines, canvas, and many other upgrades –no boat broker had been able to sell his classic, 1958, all wood, 45’ Stephens Fly Bridge yacht. So he asked about donating it to Central Community.
It’s a big expense to say “yes” to a boat that can’t come out of the water. Slip and cleaning fees alone ran nearly a thousand dollars a month… if it was killing him… why should we think it wouldn’t sink us? We took it anyway.
Videos were made, ads circulated on line, craigslist and ebay was crammed – it seemed you couldn’t sign on to the internet without spotting this boat… even still- no buyers. The price dropped below $10k (the engines had just 100 hours each on them, ran beautifully and had cost $28k EACH to install) and weeks came and went with just a few calls.
He flew in from up north with $9K in cash- we said “YES!” We’d hope to get a new roof for the church with the hopefully $25k we’d make –instead we barely cleared $3k after expenses were covered. In a matter of hours he had the boat ready to go and at month’s end he and his brother left Long Beach for San Francisco on their first open ocean cruise on a boat that hadn’t left the slip in nearly a decade. INSANE!
People said he was crazy to attempt such a trip, to buy the old boat. The weekend he left the biggest storm of the season came in off the Pacific- 20’ to 30’ swells rolling down the coast as they beat their way north. He text this photo as the sun broke through the clouds as they prepared to go under the Golden Gate Bridge. Two brothers from Illinois who for just $9k bought the adventure of a lifetime, a story they’ll tell at family gatherings for years to come…
“If you’re not living on the edge- you’re taking up too much space.” Taking a huge loss- an incredibly generous donation was made. Taking much less than we’d hoped for- we surrendered title to a boat that had represented so much to our little team of fundraisers. And putting everything on the line- life, family, vacation time and finances –one man, who easily could have lost his life, instead came away with more than memories, excitement and a boat that he now rents out for extra income as an apartment just off Fisherman’s Wharf – he also learned that time honored maxim is true: “nothing ventured- nothing gained.”
Our Biggest Adventures are still out ahead of us- regardless of where we are in life –when we’re still ready to put everything on the line. It’s the only way we’ll ever know what it’s like to sail under the Golden Gate… or whatever your dream may be.
Go. Do. Be.