Fat Lady on a Treadmill - Friends and Asses

It’s been nearly two weeks since the treadmill threw me into a ditch, figuratively speaking. Most of you know by now that I don’t actually use a treadmill except on those rare occasions when I seek out the one downstairs. For those occasions I plead temporary insanity.

When I found myself at the bottom of the ditch I was momentarily stunned, but jumped into action making plans and going forth to do what had to be done. At one point I looked up and there spread along the rim of the ditch stood an army of friends and family with outstretched hands. Thanks to them I clawed my way out and once again stand on high ground. What those special people did for me cannot be quantified. The pulled me up, dusted me off, and stood by me until I could stand again on my own. In essence, they put me back on the figurative treadmill.

Now it’s up to me to get back to my regular routines, including the pit which is of course a kind of ditch all its own. After a week of Stress (yes, with a capital s), travel, erratic eating, and no pit, I feel like I’m back at the beginning. Intellectually I know it’s not true. I’ve come a long way from where I began, but a few minutes into my usual routine (The Whoop Ass one) I realized it just wasn’t going to happen. I backed off. My Lazy Ass, that’s the one I’ve been trying to get rid of, urged me to stop all together and go home. My Stubborn Ass argued that the only way to get back to where I’d been was to put the classic Caddie in reverse and backtrack a ways.

Stubborn Ass went on to say that perhaps I could get out the map and try a different road to get back to where I had been. Lazy Ass screamed in my ear that I really didn’t want to do this anyway (she had a point) so why not park the Caddie under a shade tree for a while. I stood there a few minutes trying to decide which ass to listen to (an all too frequent dilemma). That’s when Smart Ass spoke up. She set me straight. First she told Lazy Ass to take a hike (she needed one anyway), then she told Stubborn Ass that going backwards never got anyone anywhere they wanted to be and there wasn’t anything wrong with the road I was on.

Smart Ass went on to tell me that a few days of reduced activity at the pit was better than no activity at all and in a few days the Caddie would be running smooth again on all cylinders. She was right of course. It’s been a few days since the Asses argued. I’ve gone back to my routine, backing off a little here and there but sticking to the same basic regime. It worked before so I have no reason to think it won’t work again. Each day has been a little easier than the one before and I’m confident I’ll be opening another can of Whoop Ass soon.

Thanks to all the friends and family whose hands I greedily clutched over the last few weeks. I bent a few ears and wet a few shoulders too and never heard a complaint. Thanks for pulling me out of the ditch and getting me back on the treadmill. My heart is full and with the help of Smart Ass I hope it will continue to beat strong and true for many years to come.

Friends

I had the pleasure of spending the previous weekend with about one hundred people who I share a minimum of one thing in common with. It seems we all graduated from the same high school on the same day almost 35 years ago. This get together was dubbed the AOWWBOSY, or The Anniversary of the Week We Began Our Senior Year. I have had a lot of fun times since I last saw or spoke with most of these folks, but I can't remember anything that has been more satisfying.

No, I don't mean that my ego or self esteem was boosted by the current status of anyone there. I mean that after all these years, none of that matters any longer. I vaguely remember attending our tenth reunion and my overwhelming memory of that event is getting home and wondering why I went in the first place. Just a decade out of high school and we were all still posturing. I have more of this than you. I went to this school. I have this kind of car. I live in this neighborhood, city, state...

After 34+ years we've finally grown out of that kind of thinking. The result was a wonderful weekend getting to know each other again, laughing over stories told and retold, dredging up memories long since buried and finding that others share those same memories. We laughed until tears flowed and smiled until our cheeks hurt. We took enough photos to keep Kodak in business for another decade had film still been in use. We talked until our vocal chords shut down in protest. Plates of food grew cold as we jumped up to greet another familiar face and forgot about our need for food.

Days after returning home I still find a silly grin on my face from time to time as I recall moments spent with people who played dolls and shared a skate key with me back when. Some were friends acquired in high school and our memories were more grown up. Football games, Prom, cruising, risks taken, classes skipped. Some were friends recently made. Thanks to Facebook I have met many of my fellow graduates who I never had the pleasure of knowing in school. Of the over 500 graduates that year it was impossible to know them all, so many of us never met. My life is enriched for knowing these wonderful people now and it was a blessing to meet many of them in person.

We have lost some of our classmates to tragedy and illness and we shared fond memories of them, proving that their memory will live on within us. I hope they heard our words and read the sorrow in our hearts at their passing.

Many thanks to the fabulous friends who coordinated the weekend events. Without them it would not have been possible. The weekend exceeded all my expectations and I look forward to seeing all of my friends again next spring when we will celebrate the actual 35th anniversary of our high school graduation.

To Plano High School, Class of 1975- You are the best! We are the best! I am so proud of all of us. We have overcome, persevered and succeeded! The Wildcat spirit is alive and well.