10:10 Talk

Dream 4

I was preparing to use the date of October 10th to make an announcement about my dream.  The announcement would outline how "we" (meaning you and I) were going to take the 10:10 Wellness brand to the next level.  Problem was God had another plan.  He woke me at 2:46 AM Thursday morning to remind me of that.

My plans to build the business collided with His plan to expand the mission.  So I wrestled like Jacob for darn near two hours tossing and turning in bed.  I finally got up a little after 4 to medicate my insomnia with a PB & J and a glass of milk (raw of course).  After some more pondering and observing my moonlit backyard, I fell asleep knowing that my plans were rubbish.

 

So instead of describing to all of you how we're going to change our worlds by creating networks of 10:10 Friends and Instigators, I'm here to say that 10:10 Wellness is going to be a "not-for-profit".  While I may pursue the 501(c)(3) non-profit status as regulated by the IRS, for now I'm simply wanting to disconnect the 10:10 Wellness name to any money-making activity.

 

We'll liquidate all the 10:10 Wellness product inventory, make changes to www.1010wellness.com, and we'll continue to use that website to further the mission:  lead people into healthy lifestyles and activities they can get excited about.  I hope to create resources on the site that will encourage and facilitate others to initiate 10:10 Wellness small groups in their community. 

 

As for the product lines sold at the 10:10 website, to which some of you (and me) are helplessly addicted, we'll soon create a new website and storefront.   

I'm a Lucky Man

I'm a lucky man.  Those of you who know me well enough to know my family, my wife, my friends, my playmates, my job, my work associates, my home, my dog, my cat, my bike (this list could go on for a while), you all know that I'm a lucky man.  To be sure the credit for my luck belongs to God, and I thank him daily.

A funny thing happened on my way home from my Rotten Ralph's ride yesterday.  I got hit by a car.  So why do I feel lucky?  Before I explain the answer let me give you the skinny on the accident.

The RR ride is an out and back from my house to the northern tip of Anna Maria Island and back.  It's a scenic and seemingly safe ride as there's a bike lane on almost the entire route.  So I'm now headin' back home, about 15 miles into a 21 miler, riding in the bike lane on the "causeway", the two-lane road which takes you to the beach, when all of a sudden - THUMP!  And I'm launched, bike and all, into the air for what the police estimated to be 20 feet.

Thankfully I was sent to the right into the grass and dirt instead of into to road and oncoming traffic.  Best I can tell, I came down on my butt and back - 'cause that's where I hurt.  Plus my left rib cage is sore where I think my aerobar hit me.  So I'm layin' there, wind knocked outta me, and I'm kinda pissed, thinking "I can't believe somebody just hit me".

Two "angels" came for me.  BTW, the perp never stopped - which is becoming all too common according to the police and EMT guys.  The first angel was Kirk.  He saw me on the side of the road and stopped.  I was able to get up on one elbow but still hadn't caught my breath.  Kirk called 911, and picked up the scattered pieces of my phone - which is ok - just the battery and cover popped off.

I wasn't ready to sit up, but I thought of all of you next.  This'll make a great picture for the blog!  So I labored to reach into my back pocket and fished out my Olympus Stylus Tough waterproof/shockproof camera.  "Would you mind taking a picture?" I asked Kirk.  He obliged and snapped one. 

Look at that "you-know-what" eating grin.  I look like I'm taking a nap.  As long as I didn't move there wasn't much pain.  Then Kirk suggested "Let's get one with the bike too".  So he dragged the bike next to me, still not ready to get up, and caught this second shot.

Notice the legs in the top of the picture.  Those were the other angels.  A women named Madeline knelt beside me and asked "I'm a minister, can I pray for you?"  "Absolutely, thanks" I said.  And she did.  Then she brought me her water jug - a leftover half gallon milk container filled with cool water.  Does that remind you of the story of "The Sheep and the Goats" or what?!  (Matthew 25: 31-46).

"For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink..."

The police arrived moments later and my angels went on their way.  I'm a lucky man.  I have angels in my life and I know it.  I could be dead.  I could be paralyzed.  I'm a lucky man.

To finish the story, I got a ride in the ambulance to Blake Hospital, a testament to our amazing health care system, where some blood and urine samples along with x-rays and a CAT scan revealed that I was ok.

My bike's another story.

I'm a lucky man!

The Man Who Sold Hot Dogs

There was a man who lived by the side of the road and sold hot dogs.  He was hard of hearing, so he had no radio (or crackberry device).  He had trouble with his eyes, so he read no newspapers.  But he sold good hot dogs.

He put up signs on the highway telling how good they were.  He stood by the side of the road and cried, "Buy a hot dog, Mister."  People bought.

He increased his meat and roll orders. He bought a bigger stove to take of his trade.

He finally got his son home from college (FSU, I think) to help him out.  But then something happened.

His son said: "Father, haven't you been listening to the radio?  There's a big depression coming on. The European situation is terrible. The domestic situation is worse."

That made his father think: "Well, my son's been to college, he reads the papers, and he listens to the radio (and MSNBC on the internet and TV), and he ought to know."  So the father cut down on his meat and roll orders, took down his advertising signs, and no longer bothered to stand on the highway to sell his hot dogs.

Sales fell fast almost overnight.

"You're right son," the father said to the boy. "We certainly are in the middle of a great depression. There just isn't any business."
 
Need we point out the moral?
 
Be on the lookout for special offers from 10:10 Wellness like half price monkeys, discounted running apparel, and buy one get one free supplements.  Plus, check in on the close-outs as new stuff is thrown in there all the time.

Need washing?

Thanks to my friend Charlie who put this one in my in-box.

Need Washing?

A little girl had been shopping with her Mom in Target. She must have been 6 years old, this beautiful red haired, freckle faced image of innocence.

It was pouring outside. The kind of rain that gushes over the top of rain gutters, so much in a hurry to hit the earth it has no time to flow down the spout. We all stood there, under the awning, just inside the door of the Target.

We waited, some patiently, others irritated because nature messed up their hurried day.

I am always mesmerized by rainfall. I got lost in the sound and sight of the heavens washing away the dirt and dust of the world. Memories of running, splashing so carefree as a child came pouring in as a welcome reprieve from the worries of my day.

Her little voice was so sweet as it broke the hypnotic trance we were all caught in, 'Mom let's run through the rain,' she said.

'What?' Mom asked.

'Let's run through the rain!' She repeated.

'No, honey. We'll wait until it slows down a bit,' Mom replied.

This young child waited a minute and repeated: 'Mom, let's run through the rain.'

'We'll get soaked if we do,' Mom said.

'No, we won't, Mom. That's not what you said this morning,' the young girl said as she tugged at her Mom's arm.
'This morning? When did I say we could run through the rain and not get wet?'

'Don't you remember? When you were talking to Daddy about his cancer, you said, 'If God can get us through this, he can get us through anything!''

The entire crowd stopped dead silent. I swear you couldn't hear anything but the rain. We all stood silently. No one left. Mom paused and thought for a moment about what she would say.

Now some would laugh it off and scold her for being silly. Some might even ignore what was said. But this was a moment of affirmation in a young child's life. A time when innocent trust can be nurtured so that it will bloom into faith.

'Honey, you are absolutely right. Let's run through the rain. If GOD let's us get wet, well maybe we just need washing,' Mom said.

Then off they ran. We all stood watching, smiling and laughing as they darted past the cars and yes, through the puddles. They got soaked.

They were followed by a few who screamed and laughed like children all the way to their cars. And yes, I did. I ran. I got wet. I needed washing.

Circumstances or people can take away your material possessions, they can take away your money, and they can take away your health. But no one can ever take away your precious memories...So, don't forget to make time and take the opportunities to make memories everyday.

To everything there is a season and a time to every purpose under heaven.
I HOPE YOU STILL TAKE THE TIME TO RUN THROUGH THE RAIN.

Who are the poor people?

One day , the father of a very wealthy family took his son on a trip to the country with the express purpose of showing him how poor people live.  They spent a couple of days and nights on the farm of what would be considered a very poor family.  On their return from their trip , the father asked his son , "How was the trip?"

 

"It was great , Dad."

 

"Did you see how poor people live?" the father asked.

 

"Oh yeah , " said the son...

 

"So , tell me , what did you learn from the trip?" asked the father.

 

The son answered:  "I saw that we have one dog and they had four.  We have a pool  that reaches to the middle of our garden and they have a creek that has no end.  We have imported lanterns in our garden and they have the stars at night.  Our patio reaches to the front yard and they have the whole horizon.  We have a small piece of land to live on and they have fields that go beyond our sight.

We have servants who serve us , but they serve others.  We buy our food , but they grow theirs.

We have walls around our property to protect us , they have friends to protect them."

 

The boy's father was speechless.  Then his son added ,   "Thanks Dad for showing me how poor we are."

 

Isn't perspective a wonderful thing? Makes you wonder what would happen if we all gave thanks for everything we have, instead of worrying about what we don't have.  Appreciate every single thing you have , especially your friends! 

 

"Life is too short and friends are too few."

10 Lessons From a Raccoon in Palmetto

This has nothing to do with fitness. Or wellness. But I just had to share an instructive encounter with a raccoon on my way to work the other day. He taught me the following:

1. Look both ways, left and right, before crossing the road.
2. Know your mental limits: if you don't know the difference between left and right, just stay off the road.
3. Know your physical limits: while you may think you're fast, cars are faster.
4. Forgive anyone who has trespassed against you. Today.
5. Have a will.
6. Make sure everyone you love knows exactly that. Today.
7. Know your maker. He might be coming. Today.
8. Live, love, laugh, and have fun. If you have trouble doing this then...#9.
9. Start making changes to your life. So you can do #8. Today.
10. Carpe diem. Just in case it's your last.

Socialism

An economics professor at Texas Tech said he had never failed a single student before but had, once, failed an entire class. That class had insisted that socialism worked and that no one would be poor and no one would be rich, a great equalizer. The professor then said ok, we will have an experiment in this class on socialism.

All grades would be averaged and everyone would receive the same grade so no one would fail and no one would receive an A. After the first test the grades were averaged and everyone got a B.

The students who studied hard were upset and the students who studied little were happy. But, as the second test rolled around, the students who studied little had studied even less and the ones who studied hard decided they wanted a free ride too; so they studied little.. The second test average was a D! No one was happy. When the 3rd test rolled around the average was an F.

The scores never increased as bickering, blame, name calling all resulted in hard feelings and no one would study for the benefit of anyone else. All failed, to their great surprise, and the professor told them that socialism would also ultimately fail because when the reward is great, the effort to succeed is great; but when government takes all the reward away; no one will try or want to succeed.

Could not be any simpler than that....

Cemetery Escort Duty

Thanks for this one Charlie...

Military Cemetery Escort Duty

I just wanted to get the day over with and go down to Smokey's for a drink. Sneaking a look at my watch, I saw the time, 1655. Five minutes to go before the cemetery gates are closed for the day. Full dress was hot in the August sun. Oklahoma summertime was as bad as ever--the heat and humidity at the same level--both too high.

I saw the car pull into the drive, '69 or '70 model Cadillac Deville, looked factory-new. It pulled into the parking lot at a snail's pace. An old woman got out so slow I thought she was paralyzed; she had a cane and a sheaf of flowers--about four or five bunches as best I could tell.

I couldn't help myself. The thought came unwanted, and left a slightly bitter taste: 'She's going to spend an hour, and for this old soldier, my hip hurts like hell and I'm ready to get out of here right now!' But for this day, my duty was to assist anyone coming in.

Kevin would lock the 'In' gate and if I could hurry the old biddy along, we might make it to Smokey's in time.

I broke post attention. My hip made gritty noises when I took the first step and the pain went up a notch. I must have made a real sight: middle-aged with a small pot gut and half a limp, in Marine full-dress uniform, which had lost its razor crease about thirty minutes after I began the watch at the cemetery.

I stopped in front of her, halfway up the walk. She looked up at me with an old woman's squint.

'Ma'am,may I assist you in any way?'

She took a while to answer.

'Yes, son. Can you carry these flowers? I seem to be moving a tad slow these days.'

'My pleasure, ma'am.' (Well, it wasn't too much of a lie)

She looked again. 'Marine, where were you stationed?'

' Vietnam, ma'am. Ground-pounder. '69 to '71.'

She looked at me closer. 'Wounded in action, I see. Well done, Marine. I'll be as quick as I can.'

I lied a little bigger: 'No hurry, ma'am.'

She smiled and winked at me. 'Son, I'm 85-years-old and I can tell a lie from a long way off. Let's get this done. Might be the last time I can do this. My name's Joanne Wieserman, and I have a few Marines I'd like to see one more time.'

'Yes, ma 'am. At your service.'

She headed for the World War I section, stopping at a stone. She picked one bunch of the flowers out of my arm and laid it on top of the stone. She murmured something I couldn't quite make out. The name on the marble was Donald S. Davidson, USMC: France 1918.

She turned away and made a straight line for the World War II section, stopping at another stone. I saw a tear slowly tracking its way down her cheek. She put a bunch on the stone; the name was Stephen X.Davidson, USMC, 1943.

She went up the row a ways and laid another bunch on a stone, Stanley J. Wieserman, USMC, 1944.

She paused for a second. 'Two more, son, and we'll be done.'

I almost didn't say anything, but I said, 'Yes, ma'am. Take your time.'

She looked around confused, 'Where's the Vietnam section, son? I seem to have lost my way.'

I pointed with my chin. 'That way, ma'am.'

'Oh!' she chuckled quietly. 'Son, me and old age ain't getting along too friendly.'

She headed down the walk I'd pointed to. She looked at a couple of stones before she found the ones she wanted. She placed a bunch on Larry Wieserman, USMC, 1968, and the last on Darrel Wieserman, USMC, 1970. She stood there and murmured a few words I still couldn't make out.

'OK, son, I'm finished. Get me back to my car and you can go home.'

'Yes, ma'am. If I may ask, were those your kinfolk?'

She paused. 'Yes, Donald Davidson was my father, Stephen was my uncle, Stanley Wieserman was my husband, Larry and Darrel were our sons. All killed in action, all marines.'

She stopped talking. Whether she had finished, or couldn't finish, I don't know. She made her way to her car, slowly and painfully. I waited for a polite distance to come between us and then double-timed it over to Kevin, waiting by the car.

'Get to the 'Out' gate quick. I have something I've got to do.'

Kevin started to say something, but saw the look I gave him. He broke the rules to get us there quickly down the service road. We beat her. She hadn't made it around the rotunda yet.

'Kevin, stand at attention next to the gatepost. Follow my lead.' I humped it across the drive to the other post.

When the Cadillac came puttering around the hedges and began the short straight drive to the gate, I called in my best gunny's voice: 'Tehen Hut! Present Haaaarms!'

I have to hand it to Kevin; he never blinked an eye--full dress attention and a salute that would make his DI proud.

She drove through that gate with two old worn-out soldiers giving her a send-off she deserved, for service rendered to her country, and for knowing duty, honor and sacrifice.

I am not sure, but I think I saw a salute returned from that Cadillac.

---

'In God We Trust.'

If we ever forget that we're one nation under God, then we will be a nation gone under!

As a final thought on my part, let me share a favorite prayer: 'Lord, keep our servicemen and women safe, whether they serve at home or overseas. Hold them in your loving hands and protect them as they protect us.'

Let's keep those currently serving, and those who have gone before, in our thoughts. They are the reason for the many freedoms we enjoy.

Ride to the Terra Ceia post office

Me and the Josh Monkey got a 34 miler on Saturday. A bit longer of a ride than I thought it was, my boy Josh, who's just getting started with distance riding, rode like a champ.

I love to ride Terra Ceia. Its old Florida at its finest. A mix of winding, oak tree canopied roads and wide bodies of water. Plus there're some really cool homes.

Josh in his 80's cycling shorts

One of the many beautiful homes in Terra Ceia

Front yard view

"Old Florida" road mixed with palm and oak trees

No cross country ride is complete without cows. These guys hang out in Palmetto.

And no long ride is complete without a Monkey. A straw monkey in this case.

Another shot from Sarasota

Thanks Shannon for getting this one to me. Also, Mark wants to know why George and I can't take a picture in the dark with our eyes open. I have no idea. Should we be worried?