Sunday Funday--Health & Wellness Edition!

As some of you are aware, I have been battling my blood pressure for a few years now. Somehow, I've managed to keep it hovering at either the high end of "ok" or the low end of "pre-hypertension" for three years through diet and lifestyle changes.

Each year for my birthday, I gift myself an annual wellness exam from my doctor (I know, so exciting, right?) in an attempt to change my genetic predisposition to an early death. Statistically speaking, I've got about 15 years left. I am determined to change that as I want to spoil my grandkids rotten! 

My last exam (November, 2016) my doctor said if it remained where it was, she was going to discuss the reality of having to go on BP meds. I already stopped drinking (7/1/2012 or 2013) and have already significantly reduced my sodium. Her suggestion to lower it: lose 10-20 lbs. Ok doc, got it! She made me download the app: My Fitness Pal App on my phone to keep track of my calories. I've slowly lost a couple pounds and kept them off. I'm happy. BUT...

I am recommitting myself in the following ways: 

• Increasing cardio
• Adding resistance training
• Returning to daily meditation
• More fresh fruits & veggies
• Finding physical activities I enjoy at this stage of my life

So today was my Sunday Funday--Health & Wellness Edition! These Sundays require advance planning--I must get my household tasks completed Saturday evening, including figuring out my son's Sunday schedule for the days I wish to do activities he has no interest (or that I simply wish to do solo). Today, all the stars aligned and...I conquered a four-mile hike in the beautiful Jefferson Memorial Forest with one of my former ducklings and hiking buddy! Man, I sure could tell I am closing in on 40 and he's barely 22 on some of the crazy inclines along the Purple Heart Trail. But he was a trooper and slowed down a bit as I hoofed it up, sweat literally pouring off my face, down my back and ...well, everywhere! 

My friend Robyn also brought over an entire flat of freshly picked strawberries so I was able to end my day by making a delicious and healthy smoothie that tasted more like a gourmet milkshake. Super easy to make:

• Step 1: Add fresh strawberries, container of yogurt, some milk. Blend. 
• Step 2: Add frozen fruits, a few chocolate chips and fresh ginger. Blend again. 
• Step 3: Enjoy! 

I would have taken a pic of our smoothies but...well...they didn't last that long!

I am always looking for more ways to help my family increase our health and wellness, particularly if it helps to lower my blood pressure. If you're in the area (or within a few hour drive) and want to connect for a hike, please let me know! Otherwise, what are some of your favorite (non pharmaceutical ) strategies? 

...feed just one...

A few years ago my mother bought me a book about Mother Teresa. I will admit, the book was not a "fun" book to read and it actually took me several attempts and years to make my way through (most of) it. It just wasn't my style of book. I don't even recall the name of it. Regardless. . .

In it, there was a story. Either she was being interviewed, or just asked questions, or just talking or teaching who knows (clearly the book was memorable) and the question was posed (paraphrasing):
Mother Teresa, how do you get up each day and feed these children, knowing there are thousands more and you do not have enough to feed them all?

Mother Teresa (paraphrasing): If you can't feed 100, feed just one.

This quote has sustained me many times. I was a foster parent; I am an adoptive parent. I always wanted a large house with lots of children. The child God entrusted me to raise needs to be an only child for various reasons. And I need to be a dad of only one child, for various reasons. Sometimes I get bummed because I want more children, damn it! And sometimes I get bummed because I wonder if when I am old, I will have my own child and grandchildren around me or if it'll just be me and my dog enjoying the lazy days in our RV on the beach.

But oftentimes, I get overwhelmed because there are so many children who need loving homes. And I have one of those loving homes! One of the hardest things for me to do was to formally close my home as a foster home and request to be taken off the referrals e-mail list for kids needing foster homes. It closed the opportunity to foster and adopt more children, and in my heart I knew in that moment it was a door that was permanently being sealed shut.

So I often return to Mother Teresa's wisdom: If you can't feed 100, feed just one.

Sometimes we think we have to do big things to make big differences, but we don't. We just have to feed one to make a big difference to that one person. Their belly is full. Their heart is warm. Their spirit is nurtured. Our Calling is manifested.

If you can't feed 100, feed just one. Who are you feeding today? Please send me your stories of feeding just one, or perhaps stories of being fed, along with your permission or not to summarize and share. If you have an event coming up soon, or in the distant future, please let me know so I can help you.

Additional Information:
My friend Lorilea and I are co-chairing (she doesn't know that yet) a Christmas in July brunch to benefit the children living in and supported through St. Joseph's Children's Home (Click here to learn more about St. Joe's). We don't have the details yet, but please stay tuned.

My friend Robyn and I are going to attempt the full Carry the Fallen Ruck March (22 hours of walking with a full pack on) to raise awareness about suicide prevention within our military veteran population (Click here to learn more about: Active Heros) I walked with her a few hours last year in honor and memory of my own father, a fallen hero, to say it was "a good time" is misleading...but it is a good time to feed just one. One person we'll never know or meet perhaps, but we'll be able to feed them anyway. Perhaps not nutritionally, but we all need more than physical nutrients in our lives.

I will try to post here. But you can also like my professional FB page (Click here to like: Infinite Balance Massage) where I will, no doubt, solicit support in helping to feed just one.

...long overdue

wow. It has been four long years since I last posted.

And yet, in the grand scheme of things four years seems so short.

In that time span a few things have changed. Of these two are most notable:
I have adopted my son.
I have undergone a mid-life career and life transformation.

A few other things to note:
I can barely pound the pavement for a 5k, a marathon is currently out of the question.
I am running an ultra marathon like I've never run before: Single parenthood!
My weight has skyrocketed, and along with it my blood pressure.
Meditation is my daily savior.
I still love bacon (see above note about weight and blood pressure).
Sourdough baking and soap making have become therapeutic passions of mine.


In general, I see life differently. I look in the mirror and see a different person. I listen to (or read) my words, and I hear a different person. I look around my house, and I see a different home. Ahh, the journey of evolution is strong in Louisville on my little street. Speaking of which, I bought a house.

Journey. Evolution. Strength. Revelation.

One word for each year. Seems par for the course as I seek to simplify what was once a complicated life. Now, I just enjoy an evening at home, watching a stupid movie with my son. I find pleasure in mixing oils, lye and water to make soap. There is beauty in the simple pleasures in life. I have learned that some of my running was not towards a healthy life, rather it was from an unhealthy one. And sometimes that unhealthy influence was myself. But from it, I can no longer run. I must run towards it, into it, because I am it. I do not wish to emerge NOT being me; I wish to emerge being the best me possible.

I don't know what brought me back to this blog after a four-year hiatus. Maybe I have a story to tell. Maybe you have a story I need to hear. Probably both. Maybe I have an egocentric need to document the next phase of my life because it'll be revolutionary! Or mundane. Either are ok, really. But my plans for the future of this blog include to chronicle my journey to lower my blood pressure, conquering the demons of my past, present and facing the ones in my future head on, and continuing to be the best father I can possibly be to my son as he emerges into a young man. Maybe you'll join me, maybe you won't. Maybe we'll endeavor on this journey together, maybe we won't. But the journeys will go on, with or without us. That's life.

Stay tuned. More to come.

Intentional Acts of Compassion

I may have posted previously about Random Acts of Kindness, and I DO love them. But today, I find myself drawn to the concept of intentional acts of compassion.

The Dalai Lama is in my home (and current) town of Louisville speaking on Compassion. The Mayor of Louisville (Greg Fisher) has proclaimed Louisville to be a Compassionate City and the agency I serve as Executive Director has signed on to this charter. My entire existence--past, present and future--has existed on compassion from within and survived on compassion externally (those who compassionately and generously donate ALLOW me to survive!).

And so, I wonder, what would happen if we regularly engage in intentional acts of compassion. These are not accidental. No, they are intentional. They are thought out. They are meaningful. They are small and they are big. You can achieve big things by focusing on the small, you CAN change a life in the smallest of ways. I know it to be true because it has been true for me.

The difference here is the intention that we send out into the world. We set our mind to thinking about being compassionate towards one another as well as towards ourselves. It is just by accident, it is by design. The Dalai Lama was once quoted (in Wayne Dyer's Excuses Begone CD series, which I highly recommend to everyone) as saying if we can teach every 5 year old to meditate on Compassion for one hour a week, we can wipe out all violence in one generation. This may or may not be true, but why not give it a shot? Why not set about your life *thinking* and *intending* to do something compassionate in, to and for the world?

I believe when we intend to be compassionate, we will become compassionate. Nee, I believe we already are compassionate. When we intend to become compassionate we will align with Spirit and tap into our compassion in ways previously un-experienced. When we become compassionate individuals, we will become a compassionate home, families, neighborhoods, communities, cities, states, countries, etc. We will become a generation of Compassion.

Instead of Gen X, Gen Y or Gen ME-ME-ME, I believe the next generation can be Gen C--Generation Compassion. Someone has to lead this charge, are you in ? Maybe it is and maybe it isn't, either way that's my 26.2 compassionate cents worth...

Unsettled

Tonight is the eve of Mother's Day. I speak with my mom nearly daily and I see her several times a week. I am so fortunate, and yet I lie on my couch in a state of complete and utter unsettledness.

Those of you who have followed my marathon journey from running 26.2 miles physically into the metaphoric world of running the marathon of being a single parent to a child with a past checkered with adults who either didn't know how or wouldn't act upon their knowledge to be loving, caring and healthy moms and dads. . . that's a run on sentence, but hey, this is a marathon blog so a run on sentence seems fitting in an unsettled kind of way.Anyway, y'all know i Have a child now. That's the point I was trying to get and only realized in hindsight and proofing I forgot to make the point.

As we are all celebrating our moms and how wonderful they are my kid will be reminded of how shitty his was. He will be reminded of the inner conflict and raging fire that burns in two directions of hating her and yet wanting to be with her. He will be reminded, yet again, of how different he is from the mainstream. He has noone to buy flowers for, a card for, to do something extra nice for. Someone to say thank you to. Someone to pamper for the day. Someone to tuck him in and say, "you've made my life incredible!" in a motherly kind of way. I'm a single parent and I wear the hate of mom and dad, but I'm not a mom and I cannot be a substitute. no, I won't steal my child's story from him and insult his experiences. But I want to. I want to snatch him up and cradle him in my arms as I so fondly remember my mom doing time and time again. I want to be the familiar scent that belonged only to my mom. I want to erase the horrible memories and replace them with loving ones.

I want for my child everything that I had growing up and deserved absolutely no more than my child deserves today. But that cannot happen. Maybe I'm just being melodramatic and ego centric. Maybe it isn't that big of a deal at all. Maybe I'm over-analyzing. I don't even know where my thoughts are going except that tonight, after nearly four months, my kid could not go to sleep for fear of a stranger breaking in and murdering him and him not being able to scream loudly enough for me to hear. And this is after we honored and celebrated my mom all this past week. I weep for a childhood that was not lost to my child, rather it was never given to him.

And so tomorrow when churches are full of people honoring their moms and giving them flowers (we will be hosting my own mom for mid-morning brunch) I ask that you join me in lifting all our momless brothers and sisters up. Lord, hear our prayers, replace the hatred with love, the rage with understanding. The anger with compassion. Replenish empty coffers gone hard and cold from rejection. Heal those who are hurting and those engaged in healing. Inspire those who have not seen, but can do so much more. Enable each of our hands, hearts, bodies and minds to be vessels of endless love, boundless joy, contagious laughter and healing touch. Let us be enough. Let us love enough. Let us mom enough.

I don't even know if that's 26.2 cents worth or not, but there it is.

I. Can't. Do. This. As I do.

As my regular readers know, I've recently become a doting dad. I am so proud of my kiddoe and the progress he has made over the last nearly 3 months. There have been some uphill battles, yet there have been many more triumphs to be celebrated! ...increased desire to read (I believe reading is essential to so many things in life), better reading comprehension, nearly perfect scores on vocabulary assessments/tests for four weeks solid, more confidence in both math & science, social skills allowing him to make new friends, integration into a brand new family, decreased cussing and....and...and the list goes on.

There are days, however, that I end the night totally exhausted and think, "I can't do this." One such night I was depleted, I was in tears, my body ached to the same level of my heart. I think what we parents of children in the foster care system fail to share with each other are the hopeless moments. The moments where we wonder if love will overcome. Will 1, 5, 10, 15 years of neglect, abuse, abandonment, etc. be undone and redone in a healthier way? Maybe I'm just alone in this feeling at times? Yes, there are REALLY awesome moments to celebrate, there are equally difficult moments where doubt DOES begin to creep in. I believe in sharing this moments of despair, perhaps someone else can say, "OH MY GOD, I feel the same way too and you got through it? Maybe I can too! Maybe I'm NOT a bad parent because I feel this way..." Again, maybe I am alone in this feeling because I don't hear others talking about it.

But there is hope.

And I was reminded of this hope when I felt hopeless and like a miserable (MISERABLE I SAID) failure at mile 20 of my first marathon. I began to believe that I could not do it. I distinctly remember making the fatal flaw of stopping to pee, my legs froze in those few brief seconds it took to eliminate whatever drips of hydration I may have been holding on to. Then they began to shake and twitch, which sent this message to my brain that I couldn't do it, despite the months of training, reading and preparation. I remember seeing my friend Yadira during this period of doubt, and the doubts were quieted for a brief moment. Brief. Somewhere around mile 22 I caught back up to my running buddy, Trino, and began to verbalize that I couldn't do it. He kept saying, "but you are, look at you, you just took another step." "But I can't, Trino, I can't." "But you are, Donald, you are." and so this banter went back and forth until mile 25 (somewhere there was a cheer squad including a clown, signs and lots of crazy antics from my friends) when I saw the finish line sign. But doubt crept in. I thought they were tricking us and we had to double back through the neighborhood first. But with Trino alongside me, giving me encouragement truly at every step, I did cross that finish line. And what a glorious fucking finish it was! I remember going to the soda fountain and getting a coke. I skipped diet for that day. There was a big thing of rice and beans from the Colombia restaurant. I was enamored with my new, shiny mylar blanket. My boyfriend at the time even made it back in time to see me cross and help hold my wobbling body. On that day, I thought I crossed the finish line because my leg and body muscles were strong enough to transport me 26.2 miles in 4+ hours. Now I realize that's just my ego talking.

I didn't finish because I was personally strong enough; I finished because I had a support team to lift me up and propel me along the path when I was NOT strong enough. And I can do this too, not because I am strong enough but because those around me won't let me fail--THEY are strong enough to carry me when I am weak.

So yes, on this day when I am behind on reports, filing my taxes, dealing with tummy issues in the home, a yard that needs to be cut, a court date for expired tags I TOTALLY forgot about and a bank account that I refuse to look at..my brain might be telling me I can't, my mouth might be saying I can't, but damn it my--and your--actions are proving that we can.

Yes, Love is enough. Hope is enough. And there ya have it, a month on hiatus but my 26.2 exhausted cents worth anyway...

Great Love = Great Miracles

I apologize for my lack of posts, entries, runs and perhaps motivation to get out and pound the pavement. You see, my journey to become a dad began in earnest August, 2012 and on January 23, 2013, I was blessed with a most precious 11 year old who is so full of bright potential. And energy. Energy I thought I had tit for tat. Alas, I do not.

I am adjusting. I am training for a new kind of marathon. The fatigue is just as great, and I must pay just as much attention to proper nutrition, stretching, recovery, self care, directing and redirecting my own self-defeatest thoughts.

Just as with all things in life, I believe being a parent to a child in foster care is JUST like a marathon. Shock, right?

I like to chunk my marathons in 5K races...the first is warm up, anticipation, excitement. The 2nd is like, uh...I got this. The third I begin to wonder why I didn't just do the half again, I'd be almost done. The 4th I realize it's no turning back, make it or break it. So on and so forth until I reach the final two when I am beginning to wonder if I made a huge mistake. My energy storage tanks are depleted. And I think that it would be so much easier to have just worked at a water stop instead. Dumb me again! But then I reach another mile. And I gulp some water. And I eat an orange slice. And I high five a kid. And I think, "HECK YEA, I GOT THIS BRO!" And then a few paces later I wonder who just said that cause it surely wasn't me. And then another pretzel, another gu, another boost of energy, "HECK YEA....BAM! I GOT THIS! MOVE IT SLOW POKE!" And then...I think you get the picture.

And so for exactly three weeks, I've been running the above marathon. My first 5k was horrendously slow, but I was so proud. And it was only 3.1 miles. My first full marathon was horrendously slow but I was so proud. And it was 26.2 miles. I celebrated each mile(haha)stone with fist pumps in the air, smiles on my face and giggles in my throat.

So shall I accomplish this, the greatest marathon I'll ever race AND WIN. or at least that's my 26 point 2 very determined cents worth. . .

When there is great love there are always miracles.
~ Willa Cather