My Sixtieth Year / A Monumental Task

In the spring of 1981 I was facing the prospect of turning 30 years old. At the time I weighed nearly 200 pounds and my waistline was approaching 38". My mother and brother had died in an automobile accident nearly a year before. For a while I lost a few pounds but eventually I was gaining weight again. I played on a company sponsored softball team and I played in some pickup basketball games, but my weight gain persisted. I had tried various diets (including the Beverly Hills Diet) for the past several years. I would lose weight, but would eventually gain all of it back. I discovered that a co worker was selling Herbalife products. I did some investigations and decided that I would try it out. Over the next several months I lost over 50 pounds and nearly 6 inches in my waistline. My friends were worried about me and told me that I looked "bad" but I felt great. On my thirtieth birthday I purchased a pair of 32" blue jeans. They were tight but they "fit".

In the Fall of 1990 I was working and living in Bakersfield, California. My boss, Bill Bauer was around 60 years old but looked as if he was in his early forties. He was very active. He hiked in the mountains, ran marathons, played golf (never riding in the cart) and rode motorcycles. Before long I had purchased a $ 200.00 pair of Danner mountain hiking boots and was walking about 2 miles a night in them. I began playing golf with Bill and pretty soon, I was walking and carrying my own bag as well. After a few months, Bill and I began to take day hikes into the foothills near Bakersfield. Eventually I acquired a lot more camping and hiking equipment and I was accompanying Bill and a few others up in the nearby National Forests. My first "overnight" trip was into Kings Canyon and Sequoia National Parks to Lower Franklin Lake in the Mineral King area. We hiked from the trail head at about 6,600 feet and ended up and spent the night at over 11,500 feet. I recall that even though I was totally exhausted, I felt great. My head hurt like a son a bitch but I felt euphoric. I had an ultra light fishing rig and I would cast a small silver spoon with fake salmon eggs into the glass like water. I must have caught 50 Brown Trout each about nine inches long. I threw them all back.

Over the next year we hiked frequently. We traveled to Catalina Island and hiked there. We hiked in Kennedy Meadows as well as the Alpine Meadows of Yosemite National Park. We hiked in the White Mountains in Nevada. I logged nearly 90 miles on the Pacific Crest Trail. After about 10 trips we began talking of taking a run at Mt. Whitney. It was early spring 1991 and I realized that I would be turning 40 years old at the end of August. I decided that I was going to do something "monumental" like Jack Lalanne for my fortieth birthday, a trek to the tallest peak in the continental United States.

On August 22, 1991, my boss, along with the fire chief of Bakersfield Fire Department, two fellow hikers and I, traveled to Lone Pine California.
We stopped at the ranger station and signed in, got our hiking permits, and then drove up to an area about ten miles west of town. We parked our vehicles at the parking lot of Whitney Portal (8,360'). We found a small area that we set up camp and we spent the night. I did not sleep at all. The next morning we packed up and hiked 6 miles and a 3,640 ' vertical climb. We arrived at the camp grounds of Mt. Whitney Trail Camp. In order to acclimate to the altitude, we pitched our tents and spent the night. The next morning with only a small day pack each, we set out to the summit of Mt Whitney (14,505') . When we could see without flashlights, we starting walking "up" the trail. At approximately 12:15 PM Pacific Day Light Savings Time, Saturday August 24, 1991, after hiking 11 miles with a total vertical climb of 6,145 ', I stepped inside a small rock shack and stood in a line of about 20 people to sign my name in a book. I had anticipated I may have been emotional open reaching the summit. The funny thing was that as I stood at the summit, I had a strange sensation. To be honest, I did not feel anything. There was a lot of people there actually but very few of them were talking.There were no trees and no birds. The wind was hardly blowing. It was eerily quiet. As I took the pen to write my name, I followed it with "son of Odessa" . I walked around in my own solitude for a while and then Bill informed me that we needed to start our trek "back down". We collected our tents and sleeping bags as we passed the trail camp and then proceeded on to Whitney Portal and our vehicles. We left around 6:30 PM. I arrived back at my house in Bakersfield later that night. A week later I stood in line with the Mrs The Third at Pappasito's Mexican Restaurant in Houston, Texas. I had the Mesquite Grilled Quail. I had turned 40 years old the day before.

As I have mentioned in earlier postings, we were very active in our local church back when we lived in Tomball. One of the people we became friends with was a, tall lanky man by the name of Mike. I had gone to school with his older brother back in my days at LSU. He too was from Shreveport. His daughter was in one of my confirmation classes and the Mrs The Third and I became close friends with Mike and his wife Donna. Monique, his daughter, became friends with my daughter, The Prodigal. Mike had joined a the local YMCA and became involved with a "marathon training" club. In January of 2000, Mike ran in the Houston Marathon. I was very impressed. Over the next few months while talking to Mike I decided that I too would join the marathon training club and I would run in the next Houston Marathon. I recalled my weight loss back prior to my thirtieth birthday and my trek in the High Sierras before my fortieth. I had found my next monumental task.

I absolutely hate running. On the first weekend after July 4 2000, I joined USA Fit-Houston (Northwest). I paid seventy five dollars and they gave me a red tag (indicating I was a slow runner) to place on my $ 125.00 Asics running shoes. On that very first day, our group (about 100 runners) ran (or walked in my case) a warm-up of 1 mile and then we ran 3 miles. I came in dead last. But I did finish. I was given a schedule that I was instructed to follow "to the letter". I had to run and or walk for 30-45 minutes per day and each Saturday I would run with the group. On each subsequent Saturday the distance we would run would increase. By the end of September, I was running over 8 miles each Saturday and my running time each night had been increased to over an hour. I ran in a few assorted 10K races (6.2 miles) and one 20K (12.4) race. (8th Annual TXU Energy Turkey Trot) I did not come in dead last. It was actually pretty fun. They gave me a really cool tee shirt. Mike and I visited a local Starbucks after "running" it and I ended up leaving my tee shirt there. I was beginning to believe that I not only could run in a marathon, but actually do pretty good. I ran the 20K on the day after Thanksgiving and the following week we began training at a local high school track and began 'time trials" I was well on the way. A few weeks prior to Christmas I contracted the flu. I was sick as hell. I finally recovered but I missed nearly two weeks of training and the desire to run was lost. I did not run in the 2001 Houston Marathon nor any marathon for that matter. I did sign up with Houston Fit in July of 2001 but my heart was not really in it and eventually I dropped out. In addition to the aforementioned Houston Marathon, Mike has ran several other marathons including the New Orleans Marathon, and the Marine Corp Marathon held in Washington DC. Although the plan was to run a marathon before my fiftieth birthday, I am satisfied that my preparations and subsequent lessor races still qualifies for monumental achievements.

It is now late August 2010. My 59th birthday is hand. I am about to embark my sixtieth year, I want to accomplish a monumental feat prior to my sixtieth birthday. I now weigh well over 200 pounds. I admit that while carrying a backpack at over two miles above sea level or after running six miles, I got winded. Now climbing a small flight of stairs makes me winded. When I turned 30 I wore 32" pants and now 42" pants are snug on me. I have got to get a lot more fit and healthy. I need a monumental task. I have no idea what it will be and I ask you my loyal and faithful readers to give me some suggestions



Your humble servant....




The Third