My son Ben and is bride to be Garrett, will become husband and wife today!
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Friday, September 11, 2009
Monday, September 07, 2009
Still Stupid After All These Years
Saturday saw the Dawgs fall to Oklahoma State; East Carolina squeak by Appalachian State and the Crimson Tide roll over the Hokies like a rogue wave pounds the unsuspecting vessel. It also marked yet another occasion for me to face the fact I have failed to learn many of life’s lessons and am therefore apparently, doomed to repeat them.
Perhaps it was the week of Mondays just completed or maybe it was merely fatigue which caused me to miss the neon like warning signs as we arrived at Jeff’s for the in-house tail gate party in anticipation of the Hokie / Tide season opener. Whatever the reason, miss them (or perhaps more accurately, ignore them) I did.
At first all was going smoothly as greetings and introductions were made. The house was filling with people, many of whom were friends from work and so with a glass of wine in hand I remained in the kitchen engaged in conversation while Beth set off with Lisa to take a look at their house and as she is prone to do, rearrange some of the furniture.
After a few moments, the aroma of Jeff’s signature ribs and wings wafting from the dining room drew me in like a burka draws the Taliban and as I filled my plate, I caught a glimpse of him over in the corner of the room, sizing up the crowd and taking it all in.
I momentarily froze; my head swimming with memories of previous encounters. You see, there is history between us; some seemingly good but in fact, all very bad. For you see, he is the type who pretends to be your friend, your comrade in arms, but in reality, he’s a self-serving, narcissistic bastard who will cut you to the quick and leave you to wallow in the depths of your own despair. Consequently, aside from a cursory nod of the head, I paid him no mind.
Ah but what I failed to remember is that he is patient; willing to bide his time and await his opportunity to strike. His modus operandi is well known to me – or should be – for over the years, we have together, played this game many times and the results are always the same.
Carefully avoiding any further eye contact, my plate and I left the room and for awhile, I felt safe; perhaps too safe, for I began to relax. I began to feel confident in my ability to avoid whatever trap may lie in wait. I began to feel secure. Consequently I let the wine flow as the Hokies faltered. And when the wine was no more, Arthur Guinness’ black elixir filled and then refilled my glass.
And all the while, I was being watched, evaluated and ultimately played.
Then with the hour growing late and the clock winding down, he made his move. Suddenly I found myself back in the dining room, cornered with no way out. And then without warning, he pounced leaving me reeling like an amateur in the ring with Ali; outclassed, out gunned and out cold.
Through the haze that was my vision I looked upward and slurred, “Damn you to hell. Never again, never again.”
With his trademark golden glint, he smiled and replied, “Nos vamos, mi amigo. Nos vamos.”
His name: José Cuervo
Consequently Sunday morning’s run was one of the longest; most brutally gut wrenching 6 miles I’ve ever run.
Perhaps it was the week of Mondays just completed or maybe it was merely fatigue which caused me to miss the neon like warning signs as we arrived at Jeff’s for the in-house tail gate party in anticipation of the Hokie / Tide season opener. Whatever the reason, miss them (or perhaps more accurately, ignore them) I did.
At first all was going smoothly as greetings and introductions were made. The house was filling with people, many of whom were friends from work and so with a glass of wine in hand I remained in the kitchen engaged in conversation while Beth set off with Lisa to take a look at their house and as she is prone to do, rearrange some of the furniture.
After a few moments, the aroma of Jeff’s signature ribs and wings wafting from the dining room drew me in like a burka draws the Taliban and as I filled my plate, I caught a glimpse of him over in the corner of the room, sizing up the crowd and taking it all in.
I momentarily froze; my head swimming with memories of previous encounters. You see, there is history between us; some seemingly good but in fact, all very bad. For you see, he is the type who pretends to be your friend, your comrade in arms, but in reality, he’s a self-serving, narcissistic bastard who will cut you to the quick and leave you to wallow in the depths of your own despair. Consequently, aside from a cursory nod of the head, I paid him no mind.
Ah but what I failed to remember is that he is patient; willing to bide his time and await his opportunity to strike. His modus operandi is well known to me – or should be – for over the years, we have together, played this game many times and the results are always the same.
Carefully avoiding any further eye contact, my plate and I left the room and for awhile, I felt safe; perhaps too safe, for I began to relax. I began to feel confident in my ability to avoid whatever trap may lie in wait. I began to feel secure. Consequently I let the wine flow as the Hokies faltered. And when the wine was no more, Arthur Guinness’ black elixir filled and then refilled my glass.
And all the while, I was being watched, evaluated and ultimately played.
Then with the hour growing late and the clock winding down, he made his move. Suddenly I found myself back in the dining room, cornered with no way out. And then without warning, he pounced leaving me reeling like an amateur in the ring with Ali; outclassed, out gunned and out cold.
Through the haze that was my vision I looked upward and slurred, “Damn you to hell. Never again, never again.”
With his trademark golden glint, he smiled and replied, “Nos vamos, mi amigo. Nos vamos.”
His name: José Cuervo
Consequently Sunday morning’s run was one of the longest; most brutally gut wrenching 6 miles I’ve ever run.
Tuesday, August 04, 2009
Saturday, August 01, 2009
Team In Training
In 2007, I ran my first marathon. At that time I had two goals: the first was to run the Marine Corp marathon in honor of my son, a former Marine. The second was to do so with Team In Training in honor of my brother-in-law who has battled lymphoma for over 8 years.
When I began, I felt I knew what TNT was all about: complete a marathon and raise some money for a good cause. But as my involvement deepened, so did my understanding and appreciation of not only the organization’s purpose, but also what it meant to be a part of such a noble mission.
At the pasta party on the night before the race, I was truly humbled by the appreciation shown to those of us who had trained and raised money. I was emotional as I listened to the guest speaker tell her story of survival and I was extremely proud to be a part of something so incredibly special.
It was and remains one of the more meaningful and rewarding experiences of my life so when I decided to do another marathon, I knew I wanted to once again be a part of TNT. I considered the New York Marathon but quite frankly in the current economic climate, I was too intimidated by the fund raising minimum. So I decided on Richmond and even though it wasn’t a TNT event I contacted Elliot Smith, the Campaign Coordinator for the Virginia chapter and asked if I could still raise money. He set up a donation site for me and I started training.
People often ask me, “How can you run that many miles”.
I think the best answer I could possibly give anyone is to share the following quote from a friend in Michigan who made a donation to my fund raising campaign. For her words truly embody the reason I and thousands of others, do what we do.
"Tim, as someone who has lived with multiple myeloma for 15 years, I owe my life to you & others who are giving in any way they can to help find treatments. 15 years ago, they said I had 3 years . . . today, I walked 7 miles. Keep runnin'!"
At the pasta party on the night before the race, I was truly humbled by the appreciation shown to those of us who had trained and raised money. I was emotional as I listened to the guest speaker tell her story of survival and I was extremely proud to be a part of something so incredibly special.
It was and remains one of the more meaningful and rewarding experiences of my life so when I decided to do another marathon, I knew I wanted to once again be a part of TNT. I considered the New York Marathon but quite frankly in the current economic climate, I was too intimidated by the fund raising minimum. So I decided on Richmond and even though it wasn’t a TNT event I contacted Elliot Smith, the Campaign Coordinator for the Virginia chapter and asked if I could still raise money. He set up a donation site for me and I started training.
People often ask me, “How can you run that many miles”.
I think the best answer I could possibly give anyone is to share the following quote from a friend in Michigan who made a donation to my fund raising campaign. For her words truly embody the reason I and thousands of others, do what we do.
"Tim, as someone who has lived with multiple myeloma for 15 years, I owe my life to you & others who are giving in any way they can to help find treatments. 15 years ago, they said I had 3 years . . . today, I walked 7 miles. Keep runnin'!"
If you would like to make a donation to the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society, please click here and thank you for your support.
Friday, July 17, 2009
Twenty Seven
July 18, 1982
another year older
another stop along the way.
another time to remember
a very special day.
another cake to savor
another song to sing.
another time to tell you
how much joy you bring.
another celebration
another candle to add.
another proud moment
for your dear old dad.
I love you
happy birthday
Sunday, April 05, 2009
Only A Number
For wine & cheese ... age counts. 
When we were younger
milestones to reach.
Very special birthdays
with lessons to teach.
Thirteen and sixteen
both deserve stars.
For emotional drama
and piloting cars.
And eighteen and twenty one
follow in a blink.
Allowing us to vote
For you ... it doesn't matter.
When we were youngermilestones to reach.
Very special birthdays
with lessons to teach.
Thirteen and sixteen
both deserve stars.
For emotional drama
and piloting cars.
And eighteen and twenty one
follow in a blink.
Allowing us to vote
and legally drink.
But then something happens
the word becomes dirty.
As each passing birthday
brings us closer to thirty.
The excitement then fades
as the years they fly by.
With the Big Four – O
on the horizon looming nigh.
But it passes too
and soon fifty awaits.
Making us leery
of our annual dates.
But do not despair
for I love you my dear.
On this day of celebration
of your forty ninth year.
And always remember
it’s YOU the day is for.
But then something happens
the word becomes dirty.
As each passing birthday
brings us closer to thirty.
The excitement then fades
as the years they fly by.
With the Big Four – O
on the horizon looming nigh.
But it passes too
and soon fifty awaits.
Making us leery
of our annual dates.
But do not despair
for I love you my dear.
On this day of celebration
of your forty ninth year.
And always remember
it’s YOU the day is for.
For age is but a number
and absolutely nothing more.
and absolutely nothing more.
Happy Birthday Beth!
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Her First Half Marathon
ING Georgia Half Marathon
Atlanta, GA
Finishing Time: 01:41:34
Pace: 7:44
Congratulations Beth Anne!
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Twenty Eight
March 22, 1981
Awakening todaymy thoughts in the past.
Reliving the years
all passing too fast.
Asking the questions
the answers I know.
What happened to time,
where did it go?
From a blue eyed baby
to a man full grown.
Childhood and adolescence
are but moments on loan.
So now looking back
to these memories on file.
This Father is blessed
with a tear and a smile.
Happy Birthday Ben
the answers I know.
What happened to time,
where did it go?
From a blue eyed baby
to a man full grown.
Childhood and adolescence
are but moments on loan.
So now looking back
to these memories on file.
This Father is blessed
with a tear and a smile.
Happy Birthday Ben
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Friday, February 13, 2009
Six
February 13, 2003
There’s something very special about a grandchild they say
it lies deep within awaiting the day.
Till your child’s very child a life so brand new
gazes into your eyes and coos, I choose you.
it lies deep within awaiting the day.
Till your child’s very child a life so brand new
gazes into your eyes and coos, I choose you.
Then you watch as she grows and begins to explore
soon crawling, then running all across the floor.
Becoming more daring with each passing day
watching and learning with so much to say.
The time passes quickly in a flash and a whirl
and soon the tiny baby is a darling little girl.
Whose smile is a flower always in bloom
like a light in the dark filling up every room.
Her bear hugs and kisses right the world’s wrongs
replacing your troubles with nursery rhyme songs.
And a voice so sweet when calling your name
“I love you Popeye, let’s play a game!”
So Happy Birthday my angel, I’ll never forget
that moment in time when we first met.
For six years ago from Heaven above
with but one single look, I fell in love.
I love you Lei Lei.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Monday, January 12, 2009
Twenty-One
January 12, 1988
At seven years young
you opened the door.
Your too long gown
gently dragging the floor.
Looking up at me
so quiet and unsure.
With questioning eyes
and innocence pure.
"Who might you be"
your unspoken word.
"Are you a good person"
I silently heard.
A humble beginning
yet this moment I knew.
A special connection
born for me and for you.
From Raggles to Reindeer
and Catholic school.
Or emergency rooms
til well after two.
And those teenage years
all fraught with drama.
Of a rusted out truck
oh my God, what a trauma.
Then off to Georgia
a new chapter began.
The Red and the Black
and a Bulldog fan.
Now another milestone
you've grown and come far.
At last you can legally
drink in the bar.
And as the years passed
I've watched as you grew.
Gracefully dealing
with all that you do.
Hoping you remember
when life seems unfair.
Nothing can break
the bond which we share.
Happy Birthday Beth Anne!
At seven years young
you opened the door.
Your too long gown
gently dragging the floor.
Looking up at me
so quiet and unsure.
With questioning eyes
and innocence pure.
"Who might you be"
your unspoken word.
"Are you a good person"
I silently heard.
A humble beginning
yet this moment I knew.
A special connection
born for me and for you.
From Raggles to Reindeer
and Catholic school.
Or emergency rooms
til well after two.
And those teenage years
all fraught with drama.
Of a rusted out truck
oh my God, what a trauma.
Then off to Georgia
a new chapter began.
The Red and the Black
and a Bulldog fan.
Now another milestone
you've grown and come far.
At last you can legally
drink in the bar.
And as the years passed
I've watched as you grew.
Gracefully dealing
with all that you do.
Hoping you remember
when life seems unfair.
Nothing can break
the bond which we share.
Happy Birthday Beth Anne!
Sunday, January 11, 2009
I Came, I Saw, I Ate
By now the garlands and lights have likely been taken down, the stockings and Christmas CD's have been put away and the trees, stripped of their yuletide trimmings, have all been cast to the curb and are happily decomposing in the local landfill.
Likewise, the champagne bottles, noise makers and party hats used to ring in the new year have also been discarded as we now collectively settle back into the normalcy of our pre and post holiday season lives.
However, given the events of the last quarter of 2008, normalcy may have changed a bit.
From the sub-prime meltdown to the auto industry bailout; from the near disappearance of the 401k to the biggest Ponzi scheme in U.S. history, 2008 leaves many of us a little shell shocked and somewhat unsure of what the new year may hold.
But nevertheless, for me some things about the beginning of a new year remain constant.
For instance, the holidays are the times I tend to take on the persona of a procrastinating bear who is way behind in it's preparation for hibernation and consequently consumes virtually everything edible in sight.
Deviled eggs by the dozens along with entire hams and turkeys have been known to completely vanish when I'm left to my own devices in the kitchen.
Mashed potatoes, gravy and casseroles disappear faster than a politician's promises while desserts literally leap from their containers onto my plate.
As a result, one of my ongoing resolutions for the new year is to realize I'm not going to hibernate and therefore I need not act as if I am a human Electrolux.
Beth would tell you it's impossible for me to do so and admittedly, I've always had a healthy appetite. But during the rest of the year, I normally run enough to offset the increased consumption.
So for me the new year means its time to get back into the fitness groove; time to forgo the utilization of my unending list of excuses of why I can't run today; time to set some running and race goals for the coming year and time to begin training.
And it also means its time for me to make peace with my bathroom scale, put away my super-size pants and start dressing from my regular closet once again.
Because in reality:
I eat therefore I am.
Happy 2009!
Likewise, the champagne bottles, noise makers and party hats used to ring in the new year have also been discarded as we now collectively settle back into the normalcy of our pre and post holiday season lives.
However, given the events of the last quarter of 2008, normalcy may have changed a bit.
From the sub-prime meltdown to the auto industry bailout; from the near disappearance of the 401k to the biggest Ponzi scheme in U.S. history, 2008 leaves many of us a little shell shocked and somewhat unsure of what the new year may hold.
But nevertheless, for me some things about the beginning of a new year remain constant.
For instance, the holidays are the times I tend to take on the persona of a procrastinating bear who is way behind in it's preparation for hibernation and consequently consumes virtually everything edible in sight.
Deviled eggs by the dozens along with entire hams and turkeys have been known to completely vanish when I'm left to my own devices in the kitchen.
Mashed potatoes, gravy and casseroles disappear faster than a politician's promises while desserts literally leap from their containers onto my plate.
As a result, one of my ongoing resolutions for the new year is to realize I'm not going to hibernate and therefore I need not act as if I am a human Electrolux.
Beth would tell you it's impossible for me to do so and admittedly, I've always had a healthy appetite. But during the rest of the year, I normally run enough to offset the increased consumption.
So for me the new year means its time to get back into the fitness groove; time to forgo the utilization of my unending list of excuses of why I can't run today; time to set some running and race goals for the coming year and time to begin training.
And it also means its time for me to make peace with my bathroom scale, put away my super-size pants and start dressing from my regular closet once again.
Because in reality:
I eat therefore I am.
Happy 2009!
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Saturday, December 06, 2008
Baby it's Cold Outside
On November 22nd I ran my first race (and longest distance) since having had disc surgery this past March.
The event was the Star City Half Marathon held here in Roanoke VA. And as it was the 23rd year this race has been run, Mother Nature decided to commemorate the occasion with a start time temperature of 23 degrees. How thoughtful.
Arriving early, I joined a multitude of runners holed up in a pre-race huddle inside the Rocwood Indoor Climbing Center and as I passed the time prior to the mass migration to the start line, I scanned the wicking clad crowd for my two running partners.
Joining me in this noble quest for frostbite was my brother-in-law Bryan and my nephew Jay; both of whom travelled about 3 hours to share in this delightful experience. Just goes to show what grown men will do in order to hang on to any remaining (perceived or otherwise) shred of their youth.
While Jay and I are veterans of several half marathons – including this one, this would be Bryan’s first. Having taken up running relatively recently, he ran his first race this past April – the UKrops 10k in Richmond VA and at my urging, stepped up to the plate and committed to this event while it was still quite warm here in the Old Dominion. (Just to clarify, this in no way should be considered an act of deception on my part as Bryan is well aware that late November is historically cooler than mid July.)
At any rate, before too long the three of us found one another and began to plot our race strategy. It went something like this:
“Damn it’s cold outside!”
“Yea, I can’t feel my toes.”
“What the heck were we thinking?”
Feeling this was an adequate amount of planning, we spent the next several minutes re-tying our shoes and regaling one another with tales of our past race experiences - Bryan had to keep repeating the same story - until the ensuing tsunami of running tights pulled us through the front door vortex with the 300+ other soon to be no longer warm bodies and deposited us squarely in the midst of old man winter.
After a brief (and way to brisk) stop at a port-a-john, we headed over the foot bridge and assembled at the designated location to await the firing of the official race gun, all the while bouncing up and down like a Discovery Channel Tutsi tribe in a failed attempt to keep from becoming human popsicles.
Following a spirited rendition of the national anthem, the gun finally fired causing everyone to cease bouncing and start running. And run we did, for just up ahead we exited the shade and emerged into the sunlight where it was easily 3 degrees warmer.
It should be noted at this point that both my brother-in-law and my nephew are several years younger than me and while there are many runners my age who are as fast as those several years younger, I am not one of them. In fact, I’m not faster than those younger, the same age or older. Even walkers sometimes finish ahead of me but I don’t care. I still get the t-shirt.
And so proceeding at our own pace, we soon split from one another in pursuit of our individual goals. Bryan’s was to complete his first half marathon. Jay’s was to shave a minute or two off his time and mine was to not puke.
I’m happy to report, we all succeeded.
The event was the Star City Half Marathon held here in Roanoke VA. And as it was the 23rd year this race has been run, Mother Nature decided to commemorate the occasion with a start time temperature of 23 degrees. How thoughtful.
Arriving early, I joined a multitude of runners holed up in a pre-race huddle inside the Rocwood Indoor Climbing Center and as I passed the time prior to the mass migration to the start line, I scanned the wicking clad crowd for my two running partners.
Joining me in this noble quest for frostbite was my brother-in-law Bryan and my nephew Jay; both of whom travelled about 3 hours to share in this delightful experience. Just goes to show what grown men will do in order to hang on to any remaining (perceived or otherwise) shred of their youth.
While Jay and I are veterans of several half marathons – including this one, this would be Bryan’s first. Having taken up running relatively recently, he ran his first race this past April – the UKrops 10k in Richmond VA and at my urging, stepped up to the plate and committed to this event while it was still quite warm here in the Old Dominion. (Just to clarify, this in no way should be considered an act of deception on my part as Bryan is well aware that late November is historically cooler than mid July.)
At any rate, before too long the three of us found one another and began to plot our race strategy. It went something like this:
“Damn it’s cold outside!”
“Yea, I can’t feel my toes.”
“What the heck were we thinking?”
Feeling this was an adequate amount of planning, we spent the next several minutes re-tying our shoes and regaling one another with tales of our past race experiences - Bryan had to keep repeating the same story - until the ensuing tsunami of running tights pulled us through the front door vortex with the 300+ other soon to be no longer warm bodies and deposited us squarely in the midst of old man winter.
After a brief (and way to brisk) stop at a port-a-john, we headed over the foot bridge and assembled at the designated location to await the firing of the official race gun, all the while bouncing up and down like a Discovery Channel Tutsi tribe in a failed attempt to keep from becoming human popsicles.
Following a spirited rendition of the national anthem, the gun finally fired causing everyone to cease bouncing and start running. And run we did, for just up ahead we exited the shade and emerged into the sunlight where it was easily 3 degrees warmer.
It should be noted at this point that both my brother-in-law and my nephew are several years younger than me and while there are many runners my age who are as fast as those several years younger, I am not one of them. In fact, I’m not faster than those younger, the same age or older. Even walkers sometimes finish ahead of me but I don’t care. I still get the t-shirt.
And so proceeding at our own pace, we soon split from one another in pursuit of our individual goals. Bryan’s was to complete his first half marathon. Jay’s was to shave a minute or two off his time and mine was to not puke.
I’m happy to report, we all succeeded.
(L-R: Bryan, me and Jay)
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Tagged
Mr. Mouse told me my blogging friend Anne in San Diego tagged me with the task of listing 6 things which make me happy.
Now normally I'm a pretty happy person but there have been times in my life (as with most people I suspect) when this hasn't been the case. Perhaps because of this, I've come to realize just how grateful I am to be happy. So here goes; 6 things (in no particular order) which make me happy.
Now normally I'm a pretty happy person but there have been times in my life (as with most people I suspect) when this hasn't been the case. Perhaps because of this, I've come to realize just how grateful I am to be happy. So here goes; 6 things (in no particular order) which make me happy.
1. Leilani - People always say there's something different about a grand child. They're right. To listen to her laugh, to get lost in her hugs, to hear her call me Popeye is an experience I'm unable to put into words.
2. RFWDG - Together we Lazy White People share an appreciation for fine food, wonderful wines and memories made. But most of all we share in the value and importance of our friendship.
3. Buccaneer Villa - Aptly dubbed by the London Star as "The coolest place to stay on the planet," this paradise on earth is the most relaxing place I've ever been. Iree Mon, Iree.
4. Thunderstorms - Ever since I was a child, I've loved thunderstorms. There is something about the raw power exhibited when God decides to kick it up a notch that is both awe inspiring and humbling.
5. My Siblings - Or more accurately, our relationship with one another, is an important source of happiness for me. There are four of us, 2 brothers and 2 sisters, and even though there are 25 years between me (the youngest) and my brother (the oldest), we all love one another, we all like one another and we all get along. This made our Mother very proud.
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6. Beth - Happiness only touches on the emotion I feel because of her. When we married, we promised to walk the path of life together, not one in front of nor one behind the other. We promised to be each other's best friend; to be always kind; to not lose sight of what we found when we found one another. And even though there have been times when I stumbled blindly in darkness, she never faltered. She has always and will always be the reason "I see trees of green, red roses too. I see them bloom for me and you. And I think to myself, what a wonderful world."
I'm supposed to tag 6 others but aside from Anne, there are only 3 other bloggers I know, so here they are:
Amy in GA
Cheryl in AZ
Happy Thanksgiving!
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