On January 2, I weighed a “svelte” 205 pounds. My “executive” physical a few weeks earlier had been lots of fun. My doctor, trying to be humorous (doctors rarely are) told me I was not overweight—however, he informed me I was five inches too short. At five feet nine inches, I needed to lose forty pounds or more.
He “graciously” shared with me that I was in great shape—for a seventy-year-old. Unfortunately (or fortunately?) on February 18, I would turn fifty. He knew this of course, the wise guy.
So it was decision time. Should I continue down the path of “master couch potato”? Or should I do something about my physical fitness? The self-help audio book is telling me, “What goal would you set if you knew it was impossible to fail?” So I set a crazy, audacious goal: to lose forty pounds and run a marathon with the year—at age fift. Crazy? Maybe.
Eleven months later in my journey I completed the Route 66 Marathon in Tulsa, Oklahoma.
Why Do I Run?
I run for myself and for those who depend on me.
I run for those who can’t and for great causes.
I run for those who can but need encouragement.
I run because someday I won’t be able to, and
On that day, I hope and pray someone will run for me.