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The First Thing That Came Up

when I made an internet search for the definition of impaired driving was the following: The definition of an impaired driver is someone who is driving a car while under the influence of alcohol or drugs, or has a medical condition, or is texting or talking on a mobile phone . Impaired driving is dangerous both for the driver, other drivers, pedestrians or anyone in the vicinity of the impaired driver. Last week I was talking to several teenagers who told me they were on their way, by bicycle, to an ice cream stand about two miles away.  Two miles is a relatively easy bike ride for these athletic kids but the road to the stand is a treacherous, two lane thoroughfare with a posted speed limit of 45 miles per hour, used primarily by commuters and commercial vehicles.  There are no sidewalks, and the road's shoulders are sand, wild shrubs or grass, not easily navigated by two wheelers.  I suggested to the kids they seek another option.  A safer route, a shop with a ...
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I'd Prefer To Be Running

Some time ago I wrote the following with the thought I would share it with my High School Cross Country team.  Ultimately I decided it was far too personal to share with the kids.  I still do.  But my medical condition takes up so much of my thoughts and time I decided to include it in a new blog which will focus on issues not necessarily running oriented.  But that doesn't signify a change in my primary focus.  After all, I'd prefer to be running! The Gift The last thing I was thinking about as I chugged up that hill on Route 58 between Birch Bark and Holly Ridge was Christmas.  With a full two weeks to go before the big day I had plenty of time to buy gifts for the children, grandchildren and most importantly, Mrs. Coach.  An even more remote thought was that the shortness of breath I was experiencing on the steep incline was an indicator that I might be in trouble.  After no fewer than five decades of running I’d had my share of bad days....
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Can't you find another word?

Frankly, I’m tired of the profanity.   Over the weekend I spent some time with people a quarter century younger than my ancient self (I’ll be 68 in 48 hours) and was turned off entirely by what apparently has become acceptable language.     I recall as a boy my father telling me the only people who used profanity were those who were incapable of speaking appropriately.   I can state with all honesty, the man I knew for nearly 50 years never swore.   He would not tolerate any of his children using profanity, and if we did let a curse word slip in front of our mother, we were punished severely.   Admittedly, when I left home and spent considerable time with young men of my age, expletives became part of the lexicon, but it wasn’t long before I remembered my father’s adage, however metaphorical.   I’ve tried to maintain “appropriate” speech ever since.   These days my job brings me into contact with young people almost all the time.   While I...
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