Homeless for Thanksgiving

Well, it’s been a while. I’ve been taking time doing “me” things–mainly getting used to the fact that I live 2500 miles away from everyone I know. I’m swimming again…

My workout pool

And I’ve dropped more than a dozen pounds…

I’m about to start climbing some of the local mountains after the holidays…

Lone Mountain, Las Vegas

And without a doubt–I’ve lost that pretty suntan I picked up in the Virgin Islands. And I’m very white. But that’s ok too.

So everything was going great–and then bam–here we are standing at the edge of the HOLIDAY SEASON. Gasp! Where did the time go?
And while it’s time for most of you to eat a lot and shop a lot and eat some more….

….and shop some more and then open presents and then eat leftovers while drowning in a food coma in front of a football game… I’m here to tell you–be thankful. Because chances are you’re doing it with family.

So for us “adventure type people” who like experiencing new things–those new things can sometimes leave us far away from those we love. And while that’s a choice I made–it doesn’t mean it’s easy around this time of year.

No matter though–I’ve decided to beat the holiday blues–by helping those who are really alone.
On Thanksgiving, I got myself up and dressed, and got in my car, and drove to a homeless shelter. In the middle of the inner city. Alone. And let me tell you–the experience just plain blessed my socks off.
Now I’m not telling you this story so I can get a pat on the back–I could care less about that. I’m telling you this so we all can remember those who don’t have a warm home to be loved or lonely in. These were the people I served.

And let me tell you–multiply that picture times 20. I didn’t take pictures of them individually, because after all, they’re not zoo animals.
But I did serve them Thanksgiving dinner. Pumpkin pie, to be exact. It was my job to hand out slices of pie as they came through the line. And if they wanted two, I gave them two. And if they wanted extra whipped cream, I piled it on. And most of the guys working with me–well, most of them were homeless too. Serving their version of family.

And there were no fights, no harsh words, and more “thank you’s” and “God-bless you’s” than I’ve ever gotten in a single day.

So this holiday season, if you can find the time, look up your local homeless shelter and go donate some time. Because your time will be the only present these people get. I had a great Thanksgiving, 2500 miles away from home, in a new city, in a sketchy part of town, surrounded by people who most won’t even look in the eye. And when the day was done–I promise you–they blessed me more–and even fed me a great Thanksgiving dinner.

One of the best Thanksgiving dinners

Fish Out of Water

It really hasn’t been that long. But it feels like a lifetime! I’m writing my first blog post from my new home… in the desert. There’s so much to tell. So much all of you have been asking me on facebook and Twitter. So grab a drink, sit back, and enjoy the journey. I sure have so far.

THE DRIVE

I had no idea what to expect when the moving truck left my driveway in Largo, FL. All I knew was that I was going to a far away place and that nothing was going to be the same. And that was a good thing. Although I did shed a tear or two as the truck pulled away. (For some reason, that country song “There Goes My Life” was playing in my head…)

Pulling away

Anyway, that night I had my going away party at my hangout, AJ’s. Everyone showed up, and it truly was a special night. My dear friend Jonathan even made the trip up from Fort Myers. And let me tell you–the night was awesome. I played darts, danced and at the end of the night, I cried. Big time.

Saying goodbye to the guys

So, that was that. And it was time to close the book on that chapter of my life. One more dip in the ocean with my friend Christal, and then it was time to turn my back to the water and walk away. That was one of the hardest walks of my life. But, I’ll be back on the water one day. Until then….

Saying goodbye to the water--for now

Before I knew it, it was time to hit the road. The looooonnnggg road. Christal agreed to do the trip with me, so we loaded the car with a dog, a cat, a navigation system (this comes into play later) and us… and I zeroed out the odometer and pulled out of the driveway.

Loaded down

Getting settled

We left around 1:15 in the afternoon, and flew up Interstate 75 towards I-10. It was uneventful, and we spent the time settling in. Before I knew it, we were turning left on Interstate 10. And it would be a loooong time before we turned off. There really wasn’t much to see on the first stretch. About the coolest thing we saw was this convertible Bently. Not like you see those everyday!

Rollin' next to a Bently

We made our way into Alabama, and missed getting a picture of the state line. So when we stopped at the welcome center to let Kyle pee, Christal walked up to the sign and took a picture. Looks kind of like it’s hanging in the dark, doesn’t it?

Nice shot!!

We weren’t stopped for long, and came up pretty quick on the town of Mobile. Mobile, you were not nice to us. (Sorry if you’re from there–I’m sure it’s a great city.) We figured I-10 would just carry us on through town. Wrong. We crossed a few bridges, saw the USS Alabama in Mobile Bay, and then went through a tunnel. And when we came out, I-10 was gone. GONE. And at this point, the little lady in the GPS wasn’t helping much–we went around in circles FOUR TIMES. Finally, after driving on a residential street that looked like it was from the 1920’s (in the dark, mind you) we pulled into a gas station to ask for directions. Finally–we were back on the right path. We blazed through Mississippi. It was dark, so I couldn’t see it.

But according to the GPS, we were surrounded by water. And it was only about 40 miles across the state down where we were, so we were here…in no time.

Louisiana is a cool state. We did the bypass around New Orleans, and stopped for the night in Lafayette. And my good friend Jason from years ago found a beautiful hotel where we could stay for the night.

So began the first night of THE ROUTINE. I pulled up, checked in and Christal waited in the car with the animals. Then, I unloaded the three suitcases, the litter box, the litter, the cat food, the dog food, the GPS, and the important paperwork while Christal walked Kyle. Then, I took the luggage up and came back down to get Lacey the cat. And you know what? It worked–beautifully. However I learned something–Kyle is TERRIFIED of elevators. They were glass so you could see all around, and we were on the fourth floor. And he had to be pushed in, and then hunched down on all fours. Other than that, he handled everything like a champ. He didn’t bark ONCE in a single hotel we stayed in. So, that first night, we slept. Like ROCKS. I drove more than 800 miles that day. We got up the next morning, got a crawfish poboy at a cool restaurant, then hit the road.

Can you say YUM?

TEXAS

The second day found us pushing into Texas. Neither of us had ever been, so we stopped at the welcome center.

Texas Welcome Center

And you know how they say everything is bigger in Texas? It’s true. Trust me. From the grasshopper on the sidewalk that was the size of my foot, to the ginormous mosquitoes that swarmed Christal while she walked Kyle… HUGE STUFF, PEOPLE. My goal was to get through Houston before 4:00 rush hour. The road opened into about 12 lanes, and I looked at the clock–4:30pm. Ugh. The Houston skyline opened beautifully and could be seen all around the beltway. I wanted Christal to get a picture for the blog–but… well, it’s one of the largest cities in America, and for the moment, she was camera challenged. This is one of the shots we got of “Houston.”

Houston through Christal's eyes

Although there was no great picture, we did make it around town in 20 MINUTES! Don’t tell me God wasn’t on our side. 20 minutes around Houston, and that was the big event of day two. The east Texas countryside rolled on… and on… and on… and for the first time on our trip, we were rolling up and down little hills. We drove through San Antonio that night (delayed because the cajun food wasn’t friendly to me) and pushed on. We called my dad, who had found a Days Inn in Sonora, TX. We were about four hours away, so we left San Antonio around 8:30pm and decided to go for it. And that’s when America started changing. I have no pictures of it, but all of a sudden, we were going up BIG HILLS in the dark. Our ears were popping. The car was shifting gears going up. The speed limit was legally raised to 85mph! And I had to hit the brakes going downhill to keep from going 95. We couldn’t see anything, but we could feel it. Texas was getting BIG. At one point, I looked up. And there’s nothing to describe the amount of stars we saw. I opened the sunroof, and I felt like we were in space. The moon was so close, it looked as if we could touch it. It was awe-inspiring.

We had set the GPS for Sonora, TX. And we were closing in on it–according to the little woman in the computer. Boy was she wrong! She kept telling us “Arriving at destination. Arriving at destination.” And unless Sonora was on top of a mountain we couldn’t see, we were no where near a town. The little lady finally gave up, and finally shut up. And the GPS simply read… ROAD AHEAD. I thought that was very considerate of her to tell us there was a ROAD ahead. DUH. SERIOUSLY? Turns out she was about 40 miles off. We finally made it to Sonora, pulled into the hotel, went through the ROUTINE, and fell asleep quick.

(sorry it's blurry)

BIG MOUNTAINS

The next morning, we got up, and could tell something was different. I asked the front desk, and we were at about 4000 feet in elevation. Crazy. We loaded the car, snapped a picture, and headed out.

Getting ready to leave Sonora, TX

And wow. What a drive. There were mountains and hills and wide open spaces I’d never seen before. And God bless Christal–she can’t get a picture of the Houston skyline, but she can really get some shots of WIND FARMS in the distance. I’d never seen those before either. Most of that day was spent with our mouths open. Here are some pictures for you to enjoy.

Near Sonora, TX

Wind Farms in the distance

Texas Wind Farms

BIG TEXAS SKY

The rail system is alive and well in TX

Arizona mountain sunset

This is how much Kyle enjoyed the beauty.

Nothing to it!

We got up the next morning, finished driving out of Texas, and blazed a quick trail through New Mexico. (Beautiful state!)

Sign says it all

Kyle and me in New Mexico

That night, after getting stopped at border patrol (You can see Mexico and their big flag from I-10), we pulled into Phoenix. And if you’re ever traveling with animals, take note: THE HILTON IS PET FRIENDLY! I never would have guessed. But after calling a number found on the website by my dad called bringfido.com, we wound up in a suite on the 10th floor at the Hilton in Phoenix, with two balconies that overlooked downtown. AND–there was a valet and bellhop who did THE ROUTINE and parked my car. After days on the road, it was such a blessing.

Looking down 10 floors in the Hilton

Got it made at the Hilton!

DAY FOUR

Turns out the previous day was only a prelude of things to come. Day four’s trip took us from Phoenix to Las Vegas. We finally said goodbye to Interstate 10 (what a GREAT interstate) (except for in mobile) and got on Highway 93 north. Folks, I recommend this drive to everyone. After you leave Phoenix, Highway 93 opens up and climbs into huge mountains. I’ve never seen anything like it. Pictures don’t do the beauty justice. Christal and I drove for at least an hour without saying a word, just driving, taking pictures, hanging our mouths open and wiping tears from our eyes. It was that beautiful. No sign of civilization, no towns… just this endless highway twisting and turning and climbing through the most beautiful country.

Highway 93 in Arizona

Unbelievable.

Desert Mountains on Highway 93

Check out the view in my mirror

And all of a sudden, the road turned, and there in front of us: Hoover Dam. What an amazing engineering feat. I never understood what was so great about a big dam, until I saw it. We stopped three times to take pictures–each view more spectacular than the last. And on Hoover Dam, right on top of it, you cross from Arizona into Nevada.

Hoover Dam

At Hoover Dam with Christal

Hoover Dam

Lake Meade flowing up to Hoover Dam

After taking the pictures, we hopped in the car, and were in Las Vegas within the hour. 2464 miles from driveway to driveway. A truly amazing experience.

LAKE MEADE
Now even though I’m in the desert and feel like a fish out of water, it took me less than 24 hours to dive in.
We took Kyle swimming in Lake Meade our first full day here, and it was beautiful. This will definitely do for now.

Water Boy

Playing catch in Lake Meade

THE JOB
So, tonight, I’m settled in with a week’s worth of work under my belt. And I LOVE IT. I feel a warmth at my station, and I LOVE producing again. My anchors are great to work with, and so far, there seems to be no bitterness or backstabbing in the station. In fact, one of my directors has an MMA fight next weekend, and people are going. It’s been a while since I’ve seen that kind of support.
As for me, my neighbor here in Michael Firestone–a world known Michael Jackson impersonator. Google him. I met him walking the dog.

I enrolled today at UNLV as a recreational athlete. I have a UNLV identification card and the whole works. Their pool facility is amazing. Now I just have to use it and get my butt back in shape. Who knows when that next triathlon will be?

IN SHORT…
God was truly with us on this trip. We hit no major rain, no traffic jams and had no incidents on the road. My movers with Allied were amazing, and all my stuff made the journey in one piece. I’m in a beautiful apartment, and am excited about the road ahead.
My mom and dad were amazing through the whole drive–my dad scouted ahead several times, which saved two tired people a lot of extra work. And Christal was amazing. Having her for a road partner couldn’t have worked out better. I know without a doubt we’re both looking forward to doing the trip again someday… on another Interstate… headed back to the Atlantic. Maybe another road?

Until then, I’ll go to the Pacific, ski in the Sierra Nevada, check out what’s around Vegas and do my work, and my working out, like a champion.

Changing Face

When I started this blog not so long ago, I had no idea what stories I would tell. I was ending my journey at the TV station in Tampa, and knew I wanted to change a lot of things. So I walked out the door of that place on March 31st with no job to go to, but a feeling that there was “something” that must be done. So what did I do? I took a trip just for swimmers and triathletes and went to the British Virgin Islands to live on a yacht and swim endless miles across some of the most beautiful water on earth.

And I as I was staring at all of the fish and coral and rays and turtles surrounded by mountains rising from the sea, I set my mind to thinking. (If you go back to the beginning of this blog, you can read about how the blog got its name, and the details of the trip.)
It was an amazing, life changing experience. (Thanks Mom and Dad!) But how? I had no idea. So I came back with plans to get in the best shape of my life, spend some time traveling the world, and maybe become a missionary. Or work for the Peace Corps. Or bum rides around the world and live on couches of kind strangers while we sipped fruity beverages and discussed tales of our different worlds. Ahhh… the things we plan when we have no plans.

Did I do it? No. Did I get in better shape? No. Did I travel the world aside from the Islands? No. Did I become a missionary? No. Although I did sip a few fruity beverages.
I learned that when you have no plans, you have no structure. At least I don’t. I did spend time at the beach. And of course you’ve read about my swimming lessons with the kids. But basically, I thought about doing a lot of things but realized money is hard to come by when you’re not working. So I ate bad food because it was cheap and I slept late because I could and I stayed up late because TV after 2am is surprisingly entertaining.

And I put a lot of distance between the person I was…and the person I wanted to be. I wanted to be superman, someone’s hero, an adventurer, a dreamer. And I realize now that I can be those things–but I have to have structure to do it. So, somewhere around mid-summer, I put my job search first. TV? Maybe. Back to school? Too expensive. Working for a non-profit? No salary. Open my own swim school? Too expensive. I had an excuse for anything and everything on why it wouldn’t work, instead of why it might. So, I had to change course. Or Change Face.
And after my 3+ years of management in television news, I realized something. I missed creating. I missed doing my thing. I wasn’t a fan of watching others do their jobs and having to make sure the spelling was correct. So, I called my agent. There was one place I wanted to be, and one place only. Wilmington, North Carolina. Working for this station.

I wanted to put on my old shoes relatively speaking and head back to North Carolina. Where my grandmother and grandfather and parents weren’t far away. Where the coastlands give way to the cotton fields, which gives way to the Piedmont, and then up into the mountains. I wanted to see the sunrise over the Atlantic. Surf MY spot. Fish from my old pier. I wanted to go back to my home state.

So, get this. I GOT THE CALL. I was in the running for the News Director position–something that opens up on average every ten years–at WECT! That was it! All the searching was over! The music was playing! The sun was shining! It was mine! I could feel it in my soul! Close to my family, surrounded by friends, running through the surf…. can’t you see it? I could. And then…I couldn’t. After making it to the final cut, I didn’t get the job. And once again, I had zero direction. I was upset. And then–I wasn’t.
I told the Man upstairs that if Wilmington was where He wanted me to be, then GREAT! And if it wasn’t, I’d trust HIM to put me where He wanted me to be. And for once, I said it while I was in the running for the position I wanted, and I BELIEVED IT when I didn’t get it.
And then, the phone rang. And a tv station in this place was on the other end of the line.

Seriously? Are you kidding me? So I listened to what they had to say. And you know what? It sounded good. No–it sounded GREAT. I’m a night person. They wanted a solid voice in the newsroom–at NIGHT. I love to produce! They wanted a nightside producer! Sounded great so far… so, I left on a jetplane. And I flew over this.

Grand Canyon from my airplane

I’d never seen it before–and WOW. And I landed in Vegas and I walked outside and it was hot. But not humid. And I went to my station and met people who seemed to be really genuine. It felt comfortable. Not forced. And perhaps moreso than any interview I’ve ever been on–they wanted to know about me as a person. Bottom line, it felt like a good ol’ hometown station. Regular live newscasts. Doing what I haven’t done in a few years, but loved when I did it.
So, they sold me. And I said yes. And so now, I’m in the middle of packing up my life and moving to a place where I’ve spent a grand total of about 20 hours. And where nobody really knows my name. And the station had help selling me, because of this:

photo credit: inetours

And this:

And even this is not too far away.

The Pacific Ocean

So I think back to what I wanted in the beginning of the summer. Adventure? I’ve got a big one in front of me. Change? It’s happening as I type. A new place to get rid of memories of tough times and create new happy times? I’m finding it in the most unusual place–Las Vegas.
They call Vegas Sin City. But it also has another name–you can research it if you don’t believe me. It’s called The City of Second Chances.

I left a management position at a top tv station in March. I’m going to a smaller station in a smaller market to produce. Some may see it as a step down, but the way I figure, it’s a step up. A step to making those changes. To do what I love to do, and to be a leader doing it. For the first time in more than 3 years, I cannot WAIT to get to work.
So, Changing Face. I’ve done it, and I know I’ve been in His hands the whole way. I never would have picked Vegas, so this definitely isn’t of my doing. And I want to give a quick shout out to my Mom and Dad, who’ve been tremendous–TREMENDOUS–in helping me get here.
So I leave Tuesday. I’m driving with a friend across the country. And a dog. And a cat. 2000 MILES across the country.

I’ll take lots of pictures. And I’ll leave my ocean behind for just a little while. The next time I write a blog from this computer, it’s going to have a different theme, because this one, Changing Face, is well underway.
Stay tuned for tales from a Fish Out of Water.
The OceanKid is going to play in the Desert.
See ya’ll soon.

Just Do It!

Well, hello my friends, hello. (Everyone, sing along!) It’s been a while, and for that I apologize, but there’s been a lot going on! Today’s article is more for the ladies, so guys, I’ll say this.. men can get breast cancer too, so don’t be afraid to ask your doctor to check you out. Ok guys, you can now leave if you’d like. I’ll wait.

Waiting…

Waiting…

Waiting…

Ok, that should be plenty of time. Things have been going fine…swimming lessons are about wrapped up for the summer, I’m on the verge of getting back into television (and possibly moving to a very exciting place–more on that later) and I’ve been spending quiet nights at home cooking dinner and playing Monopoly!

And I’m here to tell you–it does wonders for the creative soul when you play the game by yourself. Although I do have a friend that comes over sometimes and is subject to my constant beatdowns. But, I’m not here to bore you with tales of Boardwalk and railroads. It’s time to get serious and talk about breast cancer.

A couple of months ago, I felt a lump in the shower. Given that I hate going to the doctors office, I let it slide. Even though my own mother is a survivor, I pushed it to the back of my mind. Until I read the story of a guy who lost his wife to the disease. He blogged about every step of their journey–about how Susan had breast cancer, they beat it, then it came back in another form. Reading that blog caused me to pick up the phone and dial the doctor. Besides, I was sure it would be nothing more than a quick check, peace of mind and a $15 copay. Yeah, it didn’t turn out like that.
The doctor felt it too. Someone said something about it being a 50/50 shot as to whether it was cancer. So off I went to get a mammogram. And ladies, it didn’t hurt! Now I’m not going to say it’s something I enjoyed, but it really was no big deal. If you’ve never gone, here’s what the machine looks like.

They load your sisters up into it one at a time, press down, and take a lovely picture. And it’s a picture that could save your life. My mammogram showed a couple of issues–one in each boob. (I’m not a big fan of the word breast–makes me think of chicken.)

So, then it was off to have an ultrasound. Another easy test. It’s no different than what you see pregnant ladies getting on tv, except it happens on your boobs. Here’s a picture…

No pain, and they’ll let you watch the monitor. It’s very cool to know the inside of your boobs looks like this….

I know. Exciting, right?
So, I had my chest “wanded,” and it showed stuff too. One spot in my left, and one in my right. And they didn’t look quite right. So, the next step could have been a breast (ahem chicken) MRI. However, I learned that insurance doesn’t like to pay for breast MRI’s. Hello–someone please fix this. It’s another step that could help determine if a woman has cancer, and it should be available to all women if necessary. However, in my case we skipped the MRI.

So, I lived with a sense of anticipation for a couple of weeks, while my pictures from the mammo and ultrasound were sent to a really cool breast cancer center. And yesterday, I went in for another mammo and ultrasound, and this time, they did a core biopsy.
And I’m here to tell you–IT DID NOT HURT! (Guys, if you’re still with me, here comes more details.)
They stuck an itty-bitty needle in the area to deaden it, and that felt like a pin prick at best. Then, I watched on the ultrasound machine as they stuck another needle type thing in my boob–and again, IT DIDN’T HURT–and clipped 5 pieces of tissue.

Core biopsy needle. No pain.

Those went off to the lab, and I got a band-aid and went home! No pain at all. I’m a little sore today, but I’ve had much more aggravating headaches over this whole thing.

And today, I got the call that it was benign. So now, I’m ready to move on to the next phase of my life with no sense of fear, no wondering what that lump is, and no stress from talking myself out of doing what needs to be done.

So ladies, and men, JUST DO IT. Go get that mammogram. It doesn’t hurt, and it doesn’t take any time at all. And even if there’s something there, the next diagnostic steps are easy too! And if it does turn out to be cancer, at least you know you caught it early, and you can fight knowing you’ve already won the first battle–by getting checked.
And if you need more motivation and inspiration than what you find on my blog, go read through this blog. It could very well save your life.

Click here to read an amazing story.

Thank you to God for giving me patience, my family and friends who supported me, and to the support I got from this organization in keeping me motivated on twitter.

And a special thank you to Elden and Susan Nelson for sharing their story.
Go get checked.
Just DO IT.
And Win.

A Mom’s Song and A Son’s Smile

This post is dedicated to one of my dear friends, because I want him to be able to step back in time when he needs a smile and remember.
My friend Mac always has a smile on his face, and he’s one of those that always lifts the people around him up when they need it. But Thursday night, July 23rd, it was his turn to have someone else make him smile. And that person turned out to be his mother.

Mac and his Mom

Nadine lives in another county, and doesn’t make it to the Tampa Bay area very often at all. But a church conference led her through town, and she made a surprise visit to her son. Now Mac is always talking about his mom. And once our group of friends met her at our favorite local hangout, it was so easy to see why. She’s definitely a woman with soul. And it shined through in her smile, just like it does with Mac. After the meet-and-greets and hugs were exchanged, I asked her if she would sing for us. It was open mic night, and Nadine stood up and sang for everyone around. It was so quiet aside from her beautiful voice, you could have heard a pin drop.

Nadine Singing

Mac’s smile never let up. Everyone who came around us was introduced to Nadine, and there was a feeling of a special night in the air. And special it was. Mother and son sat beside each other all night, exchanging laughs and stories in a way that only a parent and a child can. And all of our friends were so blessed by this woman’s presence for one night only.

Nadine and CJ the Sand Flea

Before the night was out, Nadine requested the band play a blues song. And let me tell you–this group of guys poured their hearts out for a woman who gained their respect when she walked in the room. I’ve never heard a harmonica play so strong. The blues were rolling. Hands were clapping. And all through it all, Mac was smiling. It was a night none of us will forget anytime soon.

Playin' the Blues

Great Blues moment

It’s funny how special moments appear out of the blue sometimes. How God knows just when we need that lift, and how He moves to make it happen. Just to think… on a Thursday night at a local hangout in our little town, a mother came to visit her son. And the smiles never faded. And the laughs never ceased. And the music never quieted. And the sand fleas never stopped biting. (Sorry, inside joke.) And for two hours, I saw a man who has come to be one of my best friends… have a chance to be his mother’s son, sitting side by side with his best friend.

So Mac, mark the date, and mark the time. It was so nice to see you grinning that non-stop grin. Even if you were a “mush-mouth.” I can guarantee your momma loved every minute of it. And so did we.

Friendship, a Yellow Jersey, and a Damn Good Bike Race

I’m a huge Lance Armstrong fan, and if you know me, you know that. After today’s stage in the Tour de France, there were some things I felt I needed to say, so my friends who aren’t as Tour savvy wouldn’t get the wrong idea. I also submitted it to a local newspaper, hoping they’ll publish it. We’ll see. Happy reading.

I’ve been a follower of the Tour de France for many years. And to those who watch it, the Tour is much more than a bike race meant for individual glory. Everyday, story lines play out that could take up pages of a newspaper if given the space. But in America, it’s normal for the Tour to find its way to the back page of the sports section, unless the Texan does something really good–like win it, or really bad–like lose it. But Saturday’s Tour de France stage offered so much more drama than the usual break from the peleton (the main group of riders), and the traditional jersey girls donning a few fortunate ones with the prizes of the day.
George Hincapie has been riding in the Tour de France for 14 years. He’s what they call a domestique–a fancy word for the guy that does all the work. Take one cyclist and have him ride up a mountain, and it will be hard–especially when that mountain is an Alp. But put a guy like Hincapie in front, and that work load is cut in half, if not more. The cyclist behind him (and it was Lance Armstrong for all 7 tour wins) can rest, save some leg power, and prepare for that final push up the big hill. For many years, that work by Hincapie led to Lance wearing the yellow at the end of the race. If you’re having a hard time imagining the picture, compare the Tour de France to a Nascar race. Same drafting and team rules apply, only on two wheels instead of four, and with names that span the world instead of ones we can mostly pronounce.
So back to Saturday. Hincapie started the day 5 minutes, 25 seconds out of first place–in 28th place. He found himself in a group of riders that made a run for it, breaking away from the peleton. And that lead grew from seconds, to minutes. And behind Hincapie, who rides for Team Columbia HTC, Lance Armstrong’s team Astana rode on front–pulling the massive group of 100 plus bike riders along.

Team Astana pulling the peloton. Courtesy: astana-cyclingteam.com

Now–for Hincapie to wear the yellow jersey, he had to finish more than 5:25 in front of the current yellow jersey rider, a guy from Italy who really has no shot of winning the overall race. But Hincapie missed the yellow jersey–by 5 seconds. More than 100 miles of riding, and he missed it by 5 seconds.
After the race, Hincapie was quick to blame his old friend’s team, wondering why they didn’t pull a slower pace so he could have the yellow. It seems not too much to ask, given that he’s no threat to win the race at the end, and given that he’d done all that hard work all those years.

George Hincapie after Stage 14, in second by seconds.

Armstrong was quick to counter–explaining that no one wanted Hincapie in yellow more than he did, and the end result came down to two other teams jockeying for position.
So now, as we enter the Alps, not only do we have feuding teams, but feuding friends and misunderstandings. For seven Tour wins, Armstrong had the support of those around him. Now, Armstrong and Hincapie reside in different rooms of theory, one of which kept the yellow jersey off a man’s shoulders who has only worn it once–and deserved it many more times–over 14 years.

Hincapie in Yellow, 2006 TDF. Photo courtesy: NBC Sports

And that could spell trouble for Armstrong’s shot at number eight. Why? Because the last thing you want to feel before you try to climb the Alps mountain range on a bicycle–is that one of your best friends is disappointed in you. Even if they don’t have the whole story.

George and Lance on Team Discovery. Courtesy: Sports Illustrated

And To Think We’re All On A Spinning Ball.

Funny isn’t it? We’re all dropped on Earth–or pushed out onto it–and when we’re born, we know nobody! And through the course of a lifetime, we have a chance to weave our pattern of friends. Some stick to the fabric, others come off on the lint screen when we have to clean up our lives. For me, I’ve been blessed with some pretty great fabric stickers.

Dancing with Scott

This is one of my closest friends, Scott. Five years ago, we went through a lot of challenges and at the time, the future was a bright but scary place. Now, Scott is flying through the future with a cape on his back and his head held high. Five years ago, on July 11th, we went to the mountain that has Camp David at the top of it with a couple of friends. And on my 29th birthday, we took pictures of trees and leaves and sticks. We climbed rocks, and got to do something I’d never done–play in waterfalls. Amazing day.

Waterfalls in 2004

But through the last few years, Scott almost wound up on my lint screen. Changes that moved us away from each other, combined with the new routines of everyday life left us not seeing each other for years. And hardly talking at that. There was no tension–it’s just life got in the way. So when I found out that he was coming HERE for an event that happened to fall on my birthday weekend, we both knew we couldn’t let the night slip away. And it didn’t. For the first time in four years, I saw my friend again. I got to hug him, talk with him, laugh, dance, cry… the whole bit. And I realized I never want Scott on my lint screen. His friendship is a beautiful part of my life, and it needs to remain a lighthouse shining through the clutter of life–not a candle pushed aside left to burn out.
So Scott, I love you, and THANK YOU for being the first person to hug me on my birthday, and for walking with me through the trees in the dark by the water. You are so special, I am so proud of you, and I am so blessed by God to have you in my life.

Getting pretty with Scott in 2005

Now–as for the rest of the birthday weekend–it was awesome! I did this…

No, this isn't me. But it's a picture of the way I ride!

And I hadn’t done it in a long time. And since I have a need for speed, my arms felt like noodles from bouncing across the waves, and my legs were a bit sore from riding and doing plenty of tight turns under the sun with storm clouds forming on the horizon. It was fantastic, and thanks to my Mom for making that happen!!
And I did this.

When you don’t have a full time job, eating colorful fish doesn’t happen often. And even when you are employed, the birthday is one of the rare times you can convince non-colorful-eating-fish-folks to come with you. So they read the paper, while you don’t feel selfish–because it IS your birthday, and you love sushi. The end.

And I went out Saturday night with a great group of friends! We had a blast singing karaoke… I wear flip-flops all the time, so they got me a big flip flop and all signed it–so very cool. And the daughter of one of my friends was there… Larissa.

Now let me tell you–this girl is something special. She put herself out of her comfort zone to hang with me and my friends for my birthday. And she did something else amazing–the girl that’s shy to everyone except those who know her–sang karaoke to a packed house, and knocked it out of the park. I’m telling you–this girl will do something great with her life one day… one of those great ones that leaves everyone else behind with their mouths hung open. Mark my words.
And I finished the weekend by doing this.

No, this isn't me. Sorry, no photography allowed while I'm hitting.

Note to self–I am not a 16 year old power hitter. So don’t step in the batting cage and act like one. I’ve written enough for today–sorry to go on and on, but it was a great weekend. Thanks to all my friends for making it a special weekend. I’m off to go lay in a tub of ice and rethink my dream of becoming an Olympic softball player. Oh wait–the sport isn’t in the Olympics anymore. Whew–I’m off the hook.

The Night My Hair Stood On End.

Well, well, well. We finally got a good Florida lightning storm last night! And some rain, too! The thunder started rolling around 11pm, so of course, I decided to go outside and try my hand at some video and photos. The clouds were building to my north, perfect for photographing lightning. The rain hadn’t saturated the air yet, so it was clear enough to get some bolt shots.

Bolt coming down and reflecting on the lake out back

Now here’s the cool part. I took the pictures with a little Kodak digital camera, 5.0 megapixel. I’d just push the button part of the way down, wait for a bolt and depend on reflexes and timing for the rest. So… if anyone knows of anybody giving away a Canon Rebel HD camera, let me know–I’m there! I’d love to take better lightning shots!
As for the storm, it boomed and banged for an hour, blew out power on part of my block, and sent an audible electrical current throughout the house. Freaky. After that noise went through, my roommate pointed at me laughing and told me to go look in the mirror. And folks, after all of the lightning, my hair was standing on end. What a great night!

Happy Father’s Day!

I want to introduce you guys to my dad! And what an amazing guy he is. Growing up, he was always with me playing in the pool, riding the waves, freezing on camping trips, going to swim meets with me, driving me to swim practice, taking me to watch basketball games, and teaching me about life along the way.

Meet my dad Jim

He’s a hard working man–always has been, and has given so much to my family over the years. And he’s got this sense of adventure that has taken him places I dream about going. Here are some of our moments…
Before having dinner with a very elite group of politicians and journalists in Washington:

My dad on the right

On a VERY BIG airplane in Washington:

At an air show at Andrews Air Force Base in 2004

And swimming with the dolphins:

My dad on the left

So Dad, for all of the good times, and good times to come, thank you! And Happy Father’s Day!

Foul balls and Footballs

First and foremost–thank you all for the words of encouragement regarding my little swimmer who lost his sister. Good stuff. Here’s an update! The little man doesn’t cry anymore, and has started to truly love the water! The other day, I got a kiss, a high five, and he’s blowing bubbles. What more could I ask for? And after a swim, he loves to sit in my lap. So he’s getting better, and so is his mom.

Now–moving on. Are you looking for that perfect arm workout? One that will leave your muscles aching the next day, and is sure to leave you drenched in sweat? I’ve got it. Forget the gym. Take your lab puppy to a minor league baseball game! Kyle and I went last week to Bark at the Ballpark night. So it was me and the lab, along with 42,000 other dogs. Ok, maybe a thousand. And it was a great night. Kyle, after sniffing every dog, seat, stadium beam and person, settled in to watch the game.

And that lasted for 2 minutes. But it was a cute picture. So, after sniffing under the seat, behind the seat, in the seat, on me, my feet, and the dog in the row behind us, I decided my arms had recovered enough and it was time to get something to eat.

That didn’t even last two minutes.
So after working our way through 9 very LONG innings of baseball, and since my dog was on the whole a VERY good dog, I took him for a run around the bases. And he did great! He actually ignored all the other dogs, and ran the baselines… twice! We both slept great that night.

Oh–and one more thought on baseball. I don’t play it, have never played it (except a few softball games) and certainly don’t have a future in it. So why do I want a foul ball so bad? Everyone there is after a foul ball. You would think someone threw a million dollars in the air the way everyone dives over seats, people, and in this case, dogs… all to get a foul ball. Why?

Ok. Switching to football. The Tampa Bay Bucs are getting ready to start another season, and my senses will switch from craving the crack of the bat to longing to hear the sounds of helmet hitting, football catching, and watching over-paid (in my opinion) sweaty men claw all over each other after a leather ball. Well, we had Fan Fest here last weekend–and I went with a friend. We got to walk on the field, and then got to meet some of the players and the NEW HEAD COACH! I introduce to you: Raheem Morris!

He seems to be a really awesome guy. Of course, I did not have him over for dinner last week so I can’t say for sure. But some people just exude goodness. And he did. So I stood in line in the bowels of the stadium in 425 degree heat for 12 hours to get the autographs on a football. Ok, it was only 96 and the line was only an hour and a half long, but still. The football is now one of my most prized possessions. If the Bucs win the SuperBowl this year, look for it on ebay. JUST KIDDING!

Now, I’m off to bed–because my parents read the blog and they’ll get upset if I’m up too late. Goodnight all. Mail the Father’s Day cards if you haven’t already.