Followers of this blog will be aware that I have dedicated my efforts to Eric Todd , one of the journalism interns from the U of Minnesota who performed well for our media center operations during the 2015 National Senior Games held in the Twin Cities. Eric posted early this year that he had stage 4 cancer, and I was compelled to join TeamEric and give him a shot in the arm in his battle. As it turns out, he is now my biggest cheerleader. (See blog entry about this here.)

As my big race at the 2019 Nationals in Albuquerque approached, the news became more somber as successive treatment options and trial procedures failed to stem the progress of the disease. My heart was heavy as I trained, and then ultimately completed my 1500-meter power walk race. Before the race, I recruited every one of my age competitors to be on TeamEric so he would win no matter who came in first. I was elated and moved when his wife Katherine saw the group cheer video on FB and sent me a simple but powerful appreciation.

This past Monday, after I touched down in New Orleans for a week of LSU alumni activity in Baton Rouge, Katherine posted the message I hoped never to see – Eric’s soul had taken its flight. By coincidence, I had breakfast at the Camelia Grill with my friend and three-times assistant Mary Johns, who also got to know Eric in 2015 – I cropped our 2015 team photo to show me and Mary standing next to him to show here. As Mary and I walked out to the street I shared the news from just the day before that Eric was moving into hospice care. Later, I realized that was at the same moment he passed 1,200 miles to the north. Chills.

Eric was a talented photographer and writer, as well as a dedicated father and husband. He was fascinated by space and deeply loved nature, and was a good friend to many. While our time together was brief, I was impressed with him and we kept in touch through Facebook. Then the news.

It just made sense that a guy fighting this damned cancer too damned young in his life should be my inspiration to keep going, and he has been with me in my heart and mind every time I walk. When I felt strong, I told him to get on my back. When I was not at my best or thinking about slacking on my training, he was there to poke me and point forward. I had no excuses compared to the battle he was fighting.

Now, I’ve taken proper time today to mourn and share my tribute. Eric may have passed on, but he will never leave my side when I walk until I cannot take another pace. It is now my responsibility to celebrate his spirit by always giving my best effort. I will always wear the shirt I added “TeamEric” to for every future race, such as the next one I will do at the Huntsman World Senior Games in Utah one week from tomorrow. Eric will be whispering in my ear and pushing me to finish strong. Eric was incredibly brave and finished strong, surrounded by the love of his family and close friends.

My deepfelt condolences go out to Eric’s wife Katherine and everyone who was touched by this gentle man who departed us far too soon.

The Moon Walker will never forget you, Eric.

Watch for a new blog entry from my Utah trip coming soon. Traveling to St. George via Albuquerque – balloons may be involved!

My new power walking “career” continued in October with a visit to the Huntsman World Senior Games, a huge event in St. George, Utah that draws domestic and international athletes and serves as that state’s qualifying event for the National Senior Games. Once again, I had an other-worldly experience that left me speechless – and anyone who knows this road-worn PR guy will tell you that this a rare occurrence!

This trip actually began in New Mexico, where I took my wife Jackie to the Albuquerque Balloon Fiesta for the first time in 30 years. Back in the late ‘80s I got involved with producing balloon competition events, including four years as development director for the US National Hot Air Balloon Championships held in Baton Rouge. I visited the Fiesta three times back then (talk about fun business trips!) and brought Jackie once. It made no sense to bring her to The Games in June while I was grinding out 16-hour days, so I made good on the promise to bring her back to enjoy ourselves and the wonderful offerings of the Land of Enchantment. To make it an even more special, my 2019 Games photo director Brit Huckabay and his wife joined us for some exceptionally good times that week.

Fellow athletes, you got a taste of the colorful balloons in the sky while you were competing this year, and you simply must come back to take in this uplifting (pardon the pun) October event. I always feel like a six-year-old kid standing on the massive launch field watching waves of these gentle giants inflate and ascend, filling the sky with wonder. I was so happy to see that my competition in Utah fit right into the calendar, and I was able to catch up with four pilots who had actually flown in my events back in the day – Mark Sullivan, Tarp Head, David Bristol and Dr. Bill Bussey, the latter holding several records and national championships and who I had the thrill to ride with on practice competition runs way back when. Once I rode with him and the late Sid Cutter, one of the founders of the Fiesta. I didn’t realize at the time just how lucky I was to share the basket with these two legends.

The hospitality was as amazing as our balloon play. We were the guest of the son and daughter in law of Larry Johnson, who at 99 was the oldest New Mexico athlete in The Games in June. Larry was a 2014 Personal Best feature athlete (read his story “Full Cycle” here) and we have become good friends. I always make time to meet him for a meal at games or when I have traveled to ABQ since then. The stay at Phil and Janelle Johnson’s rancho felt more like a spa vacation, and they could not have been more gracious.

I’m tellin’ you, the Fiesta is one of those iconic events that one simply must experience at least once. We left town refreshed and rejuvenated, staying over at the Grand Canyon to take in one of the only sights that could trump seeing 500 balloons in the air. Then, on to St. George enjoying the majesty of the American West all along the way.

Race Day: The 1500-meter power walking competition in my age group was almost as large and equally as talented as what I encountered at Nationals. Once again, my goal was to simply try to beat my best time, but instead it was a wakeup call – I finished just over a full minute behind my mark, and I knew I was not as well prepared. Since June I have had quite a bit of leisure travel and one doesn’t keep as close to daily diet and exercise goals while visiting exciting places and old friends. Also, in Florida summers you have to get out early before the steam bath soaks you. I admit it, a few days I wussed out. Before I knew it, I had put 11 pounds back on my frame and our vacation prevented me from getting things back under control in the weeks leading up to Huntsman. I have rededicated my efforts since returning and have already taken seven of those nasty pounds back off using my sensible eating and exercise model. But on this day, my aching shins told me I had been a bad boy and I was gonna pay for it. My consolation was to “sprint” in the last 50 meters to win my first photo finish at the line.

It was great to see other power walking folks I know, including Mike Devaney, multisport athlete and 2013Athlete of the Month who has competed in almost every one of our state Senior Games, and Sharon Huczek of Michigan, another Personal Best athlete (read “Rallying Through Life’s Kill Shots” here) who is a fierce racquetballer and attacks the track with the same intensity. I also enjoyed seeing Slowpoke Divas superblogger Bonnie Parrish-Kell and Kathy Meares, who will be our November Athlete of the Month for her perseverance to overcome four knee replacements to take on power walking as the sport she can continue to enjoy. I made some new friends, too. My circle is widening.

And, of course, the Moon Walker always paces with the spirit of Eric Todd, the 2015 intern who I dedicated my efforts to and who unfortunately lost his cancer battle last month (as related in my previous blog entry).  With his passing I thought I would be overwhelmed with sadness when I came to the track, but the opposite happened. I felt calm and uplifted with the thought that I would never forget his inspiration and that I would always bring him with me to compete. He is now my spiritual companion in sport and that brings warm thoughts and feelings and an extra kick in the pants to perform well.

Now for the other-worldly experience. The evening after my race there was a free concert for the athletes featuring a Billy Joel tribute band, and it turned out to be a fantastic performance. Jackie and I arrived early so we could pick just the perfect seats with a clear view and balanced sound. We had some time to wait, and I fell into contemplation about my sad performance and felt that I let Eric down. But the warm feeling quickly returned, and I resolved to get back on track. At that moment, I noticed the door on an entrance on the other side of the arena was wide open and the setting sun started shining through the gap. I guess the outer lobby walls were windowed. For about a minute, a blazing ray of sunlight came beaming into the hall. I realized that I was the only person in that ray of light. Jackie was right next to me but was not in it. I will always cherish this moment as Eric’s embrace.

I don’t expect everyone to believe my interpretation, but as I’ve said before these kind of strange incidents have happened throughout my life and I give thanks for these precious experiences.

Looking forward, I have a few weeks to get back in shape to compete in the Florida Senior Games being held this December and next in Greater Fort Lauderdale as a tune up to the National Senior Games coming there in 2021. Who knows what the Moon Walker will have to share after that race?

“Where to start?” 

Those were my first words when I began this blog last year, and so much has transpired that I am again confounded with how to properly convey my experience and emotions on race day. But it seems appropriate to frame my experience with the 2019 National Senior Games presented by Humana (and the months leading up to it) as the race within the race within the race.

The first race was of an event junkie PR guy’s increasingly intense process of gathering assets and setting a plan to generate national media attention.

The last month was a 24/7 obsession, just as it was for the entire NSGA team I am so proud to stand with. Honestly, my only outlet for relief (besides my patient wife’s support in times of stress) was getting out on the street and to the local middle school track to power walk and to send positive energy to my friend Eric Todd in his battle with cancer. The desire to excel with work and on track powered me through the fatigue.

Once that “race” was completed on the first day of the event, now I actually had take a deep breath and run the real race to fulfill those plans as media director in live action. The adrenaline of meeting my team, seeing old friends and witnessing the joy and enthusiasm surrounding the Flame Arrival Ceremony rejuvenated me. Emotions were sky-high and tears came easily and often with each personal reunion and in sharing the joy and inspiration of witnessing City Councilor/pole vaulter Brad Winter ignite the cauldron to an explosion of applause, all the while knowing the next day I was about to have yet another signature moment in my Forrest Gump-like life.

The third race was the personal quest of this “accidental senior athlete” to train and compete in the first-ever sanctioned competition for the sport of power walking. Time for the Moon Walker to shut out the din and roar (and weariness) and step into the zone of a competitor. For real.

The morning of June 15^th was other worldly. I hustled over to the office and made sure we were firing on all cylinders, then changed into my uniform- a favorite blue tie-dye T shirt I bought in 2015 imprinted with the logo of the Personal Best wellness initiative that I am so proud to have created. Before I left town I added “Moon Walker” on the back and “TeamEric” on the left sleeve – the closest to my heart and in tribute to 2015 media intern Eric Todd, whose fight is now also my fight.

I wore my most treasured hat – a blue cap embroidered with the “Silver Fox” original mascot of the National Senior Games. It was a surprise gift from Mary Johns, who came to NSGA as a media intern in 2015, then returned after graduating from LSU to help manage operations and run social media in 2017, and then thankfully took a week off from her important work with United Way in southeastern Louisiana this year to come repeat her role. She was a life saver.

Mary and I frequently joked about my love of the Silver Fox during the 30^th anniversary campaign in 2017, and she thoughtfully sent me the hat afterwards as a gag gift. It is now a cherished possession and the perfect way to protect my dome and complete my Moon Walker uniform. That hat had to be on the track with me and Eric, and it was special to have Mary on the sidelines as a cheerleader.

Through the morning I was thinking how to elevate my honoree Eric Todd, knowing that I had no realistic shot at a medal. I am still carrying too much weight to beat a lighter fast walker, and there were 26 names on the participant list for my age group. Then it hit me – get everyone to be on TeamEric, then I could be part of the caravan to cross the line feeling victorious. I shuffled the idea out on Facebook as I left the office.

I arrived early at the University of New Mexico track stadium, just to get over any jitters. As I received my racing bib I heard a distinctive voice next to me. It was Elmo Shropshire, dedicated runner and creator of the hit Christmas song “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer.” I met him and wrote up a feature in 2016 and then kept in touch and relentlessly invited him to come to Nationals. I was delighted when he registered, and even more when he graciously agreed to sing his tune at the

Growing Bolder’s Launch Pad to What’s Next program three days later.

Elmo told me he had come out to see me compete, but since my race was still over two hours away he would have to go. But we sat under the shade and chatted about all kinds of things for nearly an hour, and he even helped pin my race bib. It really settled my nerves. Thanks, Elmo!

Stepping onto the track to join my fellow walkers was eerie. How did I get here? All of the guys were in great shape and in good humor. Under the tent near the starting line I gathered them together and asked them to also walk for Eric, and all immediately joined in. I posted this video from right before the gun with my new “team”:

The race itself was one long blur of emotion and exertion. As more men started to distance from me I reminded myself I was not trying to beat them but that knucklehead Del Moon. My goal was to log my best time to build for the future.

It was almost embarrassing how many of my staff members and athlete friends were cheering and pointing cameras at me. I joked later that I purposely dropped back from the leader pack so they could get a good clear shot of me. I was an 18-wheeler being passed by Porsches and Lamborghinis. But like a long-distance hauler, I just kept my steady pace, gave it a little more in the stretch and then delivered at the finish.

Out of breath. Shaky. Overwhelmed that I had actually done it.

Then I saw the clock results. I had beaten my former best 1500 time by four seconds. At altitude! Elation.

Then to reflect that I had just become the first staff member of NSGA to ever actually compete in The Games. That’s a record that will stand. Humbling.

But Eric was topmost on my mind that day. As often happened when training, I “talked” to Eric on each lap during the race, telling him to kick my butt into gear and keep me on pace and under control. After the initial finish line greetings, I needed a personal moment away from the others, gathered myself, looked to the north, and sent a virtual hug to the TeamEric family in Minneapolis. Then back to be congratulated by CEO Marc Riker and other staffers who came out to support me. That meant a lot to me.

We did it. It took a band of brothers to do what I was not physically capable of doing alone on that day, and that was to bring Eric a win. No, it was more than that. It was a medal sweep for TeamEric. What an indescribable, heart-filling, knee-bending moment. THANK YOU, GENTLEMEN!

POST SCRIPT: I thought my race experience was over and I went back into the rip tide of my work. But perhaps my most surprising #RealSeniorMoment came during the Celebration of Athletes a few days later. I was sitting with six of the seven Personal Best athletes who have competed in all of our Games in history: Dottie Gray, Lee Stadem, Ed True, Ann McGowan, George Freeman and New Mexico’s own (and my favorite curmudgeon) Jordan Wolle. Having these super seniors as my friends and sitting with them was special enough, but then it came time that all competitors were asked to stand to recite the Athlete’s Oath.

Time stopped for a beat.

Wow.

I stood in disbelief and tears streamed as I struggled to recite the words. Accidental or not, I AM AN ATHLETE NOW. Six-and-a-half decades of wandering around this planet, and I had just achieved something I had never, ever dreamed of becoming.

No turning back now. Give me another bottle of water before I dehydrate!

Last week I fly-walked out to Albuquerque to participate in a press conference hosted by Mayor Tim Keller to announce that the 2019 National Senior Games had smashed the previous all-time record for athletes. 13,712 is a crazy number, a full 30% above 2017 and 14% over our previous high. For once, everyone around me was also walking on the Moon!

Some truly memorable things happened while I was there that are well worth sharing with you. First, one of the things I so much respect about the New Mexico Senior Olympics is that since their beginning nearly 40 years ago (been going longer than Nationals) they have always held Senior Indian Games for all of the pueblos and reservations. There was a special torch rally ceremony closing the games at the Indian School in Santa Fe the day after I arrived. I’ve been involved with staging two torch relays in my time – they are the most brutal yet exciting event beasties to tame. The first was a 26-city visit for the 10^th anniversary of the Americans with Disabilities Act iin 2000 called the Spirit of ADA Torch Relay. The second was an eight-city Texas tour on behalf of the 2011 National Senior Games in Houston, which helped put me on the radar to get my current media director gig with NSGA. Since joining the team, I have found a way to see torch activity in each succeeding games in Cleveland, Minn/St Paul and Birmingham, and I thought my streak would end until this unscheduled trip came up. I would have jumped on the RailRunner train to Santa Fe from ABQ if I had to, but three of our team wanted to go and we rode up together.

The torch reception ceremony was stirring to watch as the tribes marched in, most in their games shirts and proudly wearing the medals they had won that day. But I was thrilled to find that the Acoma tribe was in attendance and a race walker named Ralph Paytiamo was there. Last month I had to honor to interview Ralph and produce a Personal Best feature about him that you can read here: “When I Walk, I think about my tribe, I think about the youth.” Well worth the read.

It was a treat to meet him personally and to chat with several of the Acoma athletes and family members and take a photo with them. But that wasn’t the only special thing that day – my sister Daran lives in Santa Fe and came out to see me. She is not a senior athlete but she did introduce me to her good friend and senior runner Carolyn Robinson in 2011. We’ve kept in touch and I had lunch with her and Daran on a trip to NM last year. At the time, sis told me Carolyn was battling with anxiety and depression, so bad that she was barely able to get Carolyn to come out to eat. The meal was on me, even!

I was so very proud to hear that Daran helped her friend out of a deep funk last year and urged her to go to New Mexico Senior Olympics and qualify for National Senior Games hosted in her own state. Carolyn was even invited to be one of the torch bearers and to speak to the gathering. Awesome. We closed the visit by meeting at a neighborhood café with my crew for some friendly chat.

The next unforgettable thing was the annual Gathering of Nations, the largest native powpow in North America, which took place that weekend. I had heard about it while attending the Balloon Fiesta thirty years ago and figured I’d never work it out to witness the spectacle. I must have flown on Serendipity Airlines for it to coincide with my trip.

I have always felt a spiritual wave every time I visit New Mexico, partly due to coming to visit my father in his last years living with Sis. He found peace there. Witnessing the scores of tribes marching in unity reignited the feeling from my previous day’s experience.

Our staff still had time to take the Sandia Tramway to catch the closing day from the eagle’s view. What a day! I don’t care if the damned DNA test says I have no Native American blood, I still feel a bond with their culture. Their expressions in poems, prayers and songs touch my soul.

Finally, my last stirring experience came the next morning when I got up early and practiced my power walk at the Civic Plaza next to my hotel. I stepped to the center of the plaza, where the mayor would make his announcement two hours later, and evoked the Great Spirt to bless the event and to bring healing to  my friend Eric Todd who I have dedicated my big race in June to in a previous blog entry. Eric has an incredible family and circle of prayer warriors, and I ask if you are the praying type to add him to your list. He’s a fighter with a gentle soul, and he’s on my mind every day, especially when I walk.

Two laps around the plaza and City Hall came out to exactly one mile. (My 1500-meter race is a tick less, but I practice the extra one-tenth at pace so I can power through the finish line. I expected the altitude to affect my time, but was surprised that I logged my second-best time (13:03) – the best happened in my first power walk in Washington state that got me a gold trinket last summer. Eric, I guess you aren’t that heavy on my back!

It was an unforgettable and emotional trip. In the midst of the long hours, stress and deadlines of my work to prepare a media center for the largest Olympic style event for seniors in the world, it was a welcome lift for my spirit. The Land of Enchantment always does that for me, but this was even more special.

I’m so busy I passed myself in the hall today, but I pledge to have one more entry before The Games. There are other people related to my Games experience that I will have on my mind in June for motivation in addition to making my “Walk of Life” for Team Eric.

Long blog. I guess I still run my mouth better than I power my walk!

Well, I’ve navigated my two tune-up races before the National Senior Games in June and have once again proven I can’t do anything normally.  Something weird usually happens wherever I go. While I confess a lot of times the weirdness is instigated by me, serendipity often visits with a smile.

To the point, in my first competition at the Polk County Senior Games two weeks ago, the news was not that I managed to get a bronze finish in a field of four in my age group. The headline is that I got beat by Batman! Whattaya mean by that? Glad you asked. The gold medalist turns out to be the nephew of Batman’s creator Bob Kane. His name? Bruce Wayne Kane, after the Caped Crusader’s alter ego. He wears a Batman medallion around his neck. How cool is that – I raced with comic royalty!

Bruce finished more than half a lap ahead of me. He’s a retired mail carrier, so no wonder he delivered quicker! Afterwards, he gave me the best compliment he could think of: “You had a pretty good time for a guy with your weight.” He’s a trim 180 and the second-place guy wasn’t much more than that. I’ve lost 30 pounds but still wavering around 240 with a goal to lose at least ten more. I guess I’m an 1 8-wheeler compared to his Batmobile.

My time of 12:55 was ten seconds slower than my first race in Washington last summer. But the next race held last weekend at the Good Life Games in my home county of Pinellas was humbling and challenging. I should have known when I parked next to a van with “POWER WALK – RACE WALK TRAINING” lettering and phone number on the side. “I hope I’m not racing that guy,” I thought. When we were mustering at the line, I asked the man next to me if he knew who that was and it turned out to be him. Of course, Andy Cowing was in my 65-69 group. My next thought was, “OK, I’m chasing silver.” Then I reminded myself I’m not really racing anyone more important than me. “Work your own race and try to beat your own time.”

Andy’s passion for race walk and power walk led him to organize a group in nearby Seminole. I am thankful that he was there despite being left in the dust, because he shared some good information. For example, when discussing weight, he confirmed that heavier people are usually slower. “For every five pounds you drop you will probably gain 30 seconds in the 5K,” he told me. Andy is excited about Power Walk gaining respect as a sport with its addition to the National Senior Games and he plans to be there. Ugh. But that’s OK, I accept that I will be middle of the pack at best in Albuquerque, I just want to keep improving and continue to gradually lose weight through reasonable lifestyle adjustments.

Unfortunately, the Good Life Games race was my worst to date. Within ten yards after the start, I felt a muscle tighten way up under my right hip. I had done light stretching and walking to warm up, so it was a surprise that it decided to dog me on this day. Rather than trying to push hard through it, I just established a comfortable pace and grinded out the three and three-quarters laps around the track at Clearwater High School. 13:25 finish, waaay off the mark. But I wasn’t going to aggravate this new ping and possibly screw up the big one in June. Chalk it up for experience and give thanks for a silver medal.

Andy also told me at my stage of development and fitness level I should not practice power walking for the race distance more than twice a week, and just do regular walk and normal exercise in between. I was doing three times a week but only two this week and my back and hip seem to be behaving much better. So there’s my plan for the next two months.

So I now have Gold from the Washington State Senior Games plus Silver and Bronze from my local games.  Since my chances for a medal in large pack at Nationals are realistically slim, I now have a full set of medals as I prepare for the 1500-meter Power Walk at The Games in in June. Also nice to cover the podium on behalf of my buddy Eric Todd who is battling cancer and I have mainly dedicated this effort to. Go Team Eric, and Go ME!

I’ve cruised this far with my blog without actually offering readers background on what power walk is, and just as importantly, what it is not. The confusion is understandable because there have been no formal rules or guidance on having power walk competitions. Several NSGA state qualifying games have held fast walk or power walk events, and for most people the term has been loosely applied to walking at faster pace purely for exercise.

Until now.

In 2016, the United States Power Walking Association (USPWA) was founded by Doug and Marianne Hamilton to provide structure and promote the sport and its exercise benefits. Concurrently there was discussion within NSGA about the rising number of race walkers (hold on, we’ll get to the difference below) who were being disqualified at National Senior Games for using improper technique as required by the Olympic sport’s stringent rules. As people age, it becomes more difficult to maintain form and even some experienced race walkers were being thrown the dreaded “red cards.”

Power Walk not only provides longtime race walkers with an alternative to continue to compete in a similar sport, it is also a great entry-level sport for novices. Like ME. The idea was so potent that the National Games Committee decided to add power walk as a 2019 medal sport in the 1500-meter and 5K distances. Because the qualifying year was at hand it was made an open sport – no qualifying necessary for the inaugural races.

It must be serving a need because registration for power walk has been steady, and with seven weeks to go before the deadline, it looks like signups will exceed expectations. That doesn’t bode well for medal hopes for little ole me, as the 65-69 age group will likely be crowded. If I snag one of those ribbons awarded out to 8^th place I’ll be a happy Moon Walker.

So how do you compete in power walk? Bonnie Parrish-Kell is an athlete and self-described “Publisher and Chief Motivational Diva” for Slowpoke Divas, an online resource of health and fitness information and inspiration for women primarily over 40, out of shape or overweight to fully enjoy a healthy, active lifestyle and outdoor sports. Bonnie also serves on the USPWA board and produced a very informative and instructive video to show the difference between Race Walk, Power Walk and basic fitness walk.

Watch Power Walk vs Race Walk Video Here

If you would like to read in detail the USPWA power walking rules, here’s the page from their website.

I actually met Bonnie last summer in Boise at the cycling time trials for the Idaho Senior Games when CEO Marc Riker and I were there to recognize Personal Best athlete Dick Johnson. I enjoyed her passion and wit when we chatted near the Start/Finish line. “Wait for me, I’ll probably be the last one in,” she joked before launching on her time trial.

Moon Walker Training Update: I’m doing more fast pace walking with minimal physical issues. I’m fortunate to live in Florida where there are 19 local senior games in addition to the Florida Senior Games state event. I found three in easy driving range that come before June for competition tune-ups. In March I will enter the 1500 event at the Good Life Games (in my county), then go to the Polk Senior Games an hour away, and in April I’ll make the day trip to The Villages Senior Games.

It’s always good to have an exercise partner (my wife walks with me often) or a support group, especially if you can’t budget for a trainer. When I called the Good Life Games to sign up, organizer and 2014 Florida Senior Athlete of the Year Walt Deal invited me to join Walk With a Doc, a monthly walking group sponsored by Dr. John Norris, a heart arrythmia specialist who is also a sponsor of the local games.

Some just come out to enjoy a walk in the park and the social time together, but I tagged along with the seasoned pace walkers, all of whom are older than me. It turns out trying to keep up with those yard birds is no easy walk in the park, and it reminds me I have a long way to go before I can even dream about placing or medaling at the National Senior Games. Believe me, just to be on the track at the University of New Mexico will be an exhilarating experience.

Walk on, people. The Dude abides, but the Moon Walker strides…

We interrupt our regularly scheduled blog subject for the following Special Report:

This blog entry is a bit more serious, but that won’t keep me from having some fun. When I got past cancer in 2005, I came up with my own humorous expression about how to live in the light: “Life is too serious to be taken too seriously.” Paradoxically, that’s no joke.

I didn’t need any more motivation to follow through on this journey from recliner to track, but it came to me with news about a friend I made during the 2015 National Senior Games in Minnesota. One of my big duties with NSGA is to plan, staff and manage a complete Media Center, which includes recruiting college interns to serve as reporters and photographers for our online Games Daily News and photo gallery. The University of Minnesota (with grant support by the Minneapolis Star-Tribune) provided a good batch of students, plus a retired professor to handle assignments and initial proofreading. They called themselves Team Go Gopher, which I thought was great esprit de corps. The team photo below was at the pizza party I set up to celebrate victory after the last whistle had blown.

One student stood out on a couple of fronts. Eric Todd devoted his youth to serving our country, and was finally getting his communications degree from UMN in his late 30s. The fully mature beard and confident manner tipped me off immediately. He was a damn good photographer and one of the best writers of the bunch. I never had to worry about Eric delivering whatever was assigned during the frantic two weeks of controlled chaos that the operation existed. We hit it off pretty good, and continued to keep in touch on Facebook.

A few months later, I learned Eric had been diagnosed with Stage III colon cancer. I shared my story and offered words of encouragement to him, and I was happy to hear later that year he had successfully navigated chemo and all of the other challenges that come with the disease and the sky was clearing.

Last week, I saw a Facebook post from Eric that Stage IV metastatic cancer has been found throughout his abdomen and on his liver. I read the journal entries he, his wife Katherine and 16-year-old daughter Victoria have posted about this development, and at the time of this writing he is now back in chemo and looking forward to getting needed surgery at the Mayo Clinic. It’s serious but there’s reason to be hopeful, and I was struck by the incredibly positive attitude and spiritual fortitude exhibited by Eric, his family, and his longtime friends in the journal and his Facebook page. There is no quit in this guy, and I’m now his biggest cheerleader.

So Eric, I want you to know that I have joined TeamEric and will dedicate my competition at the National Senior Games in June to you, buddy. I will be sending out healing prayers every time I walk, and the theme song to pace me will be Dire Strait’s Walk of Life. “Hand me down my walking shoes.” You will be foremost in my mind when I step onto the track at the University of New Mexico to run, er, power walk my race. You can beat this, Eric. You WILL beat this!

I’m indoors. So why is it raining? That’s OK, it’s a healing rain.

Next: I’ll be back soon with some basics about Power Walk and an update on my ongoing preparations.

Hello, friends. I wanted to blog at least once per month, but the holidays always mess with people’s regular schedules and plans, and I was not immune to the season. I’m sure you couldn’t live without me. (OK, maybe it’s just me that can’t live without me!)

The Great News part is that I have already achieved one goal. Since January of 2016 my blood work has shown I was prediabetic, and my Doc made me come back every six months for recheck. He gently kept after me and recommended I take a YMCA Pre Diabetes Lifestyle Awareness program. When my numbers kept going up after three checks, I knew I had to do something and followed the one-year course.  It was a lot easier than I thought to learn to adjust my eating and exercise habits, and I gradually lost a lot of weight while increasing activity. I loved that the only time the word “diet” was used was to teach that dieting alone is not a permanent solution, that it was about moderation and making good choices more than bad ones.

I was ecstatic when I opened the lab report after last month’s blood-letting. In the results they highlight areas of concern in red, and I’ve always had one or more red numbers slightly out of whack in addition to the creeping crimson Diabetes numbers. As I browsed down the page all I could see was green. No mistake, ALL of my health markers were in range! My Hemoglobin number was 5.6, one tick below prediabetic range. Before I knuckled down, it was at an alarming 6.4. When Doc saw the numbers he did a double-take. “You really reversed your course. Good job!”

I now humbly offer myself as an example for others who still walk in my old path. Believe in yourself, but you have to take the steady steps to bring positive change. It’s not that hard and it’s worth it. I’m giving myself an A+ on this front.

However, the Reality Check is that this journey is going to be every bit the challenge I thought it would be when I launched this effort to train and compete in the 1500 Power Walk event at the National Senior Games next June. You don’t just go from zero to 60 after being sedentary (in my case it’s zero to 65, my age!) In an earlier blog, I recounted finding out I have a back issue that won’t be going away. Physical therapy helped me tremendously after the flare up, and I now have a regular stretching routine that has relaxed my wound up muscles.

I suspended fast pace walking at advice of my therapist while going through this. “Let it rest with just normal activity and stretching and let’s see if it improves.”  It did improve, but it is chronic and needs to be managed to keep in check. Thankfully, the sharp tweaks are rare now, and my main complaint is transitioning from bed to vertical and whenever I have to bend over deep to pick something off the floor. Otherwise I can lift and move at my normal ability and walking is fine. In fact, it helps keep me loose. Time to carefully pick it back up a bit.

The past two weeks I’ve gotten out to walk more often and starting to do intervals of normal/fast while walking. There’s a straight road near my house that is great for training like this because of the line of street lights. I go one length fast and then relax at normal pace to the next light post. When my wife walks with me I will power ahead and back to her from the next post. (The amazing 94-year-old runner Roy Englert sparked the idea from his Personal Best feature. Read it Here) Soon I will mark off a 1500-meter length and start timing myself every week or two to see if/how I improve. Next, I have found three power walk events at upcoming local Florida Senior Games events in March and April. Work on the fundamentals and get more race experience before June. Sounds like a plan.

Of course, now that I’m blogging my Senior Games friends are popping up with their attaboys and advice. Thanks to everyone for your support, it really means a lot.  One of them is 2017 Athlete of the Month John White, a triathlete who has also done a tremendous job helping to grow the Wisconsin Senior Olympics, and he has served on the NSGA board. He’s a beast, as the photo I took of him at the 2017 tri competition shows.

He and others tell me back problems and aches are a part of aging and to buck up. I know, folks, and I ain’t quittin’ due to a creak or tweak, but my athletic trajectory is much lower than most longtime warriors like you who I greatly admire. I don’t dream of standing atop podiums after draining every ounce of effort from my body. My simple goals are to enjoy exercise through power walking, keep the weight off and, oh yeah, live forever. If my competitive nature blooms maybe I’ll get the fever to develop those “guns” John has worked long and hard for. Maybe there are other events and sports I might try in the future.

But I’m not even thinking over my skis at this point. One “accidental athlete” step at a time!

It’s time to do some ‘splaining about why I let myself become overweight and sedentary. In a way, I didn’t have the vision to avoid it.

The reason I never got into sports is a medical one; the reason why I never got into regular exercise is environmental and experiential. This blog takes a bit to explain why.

When I was a toddler, I rode my little metal “car” into a fire hydrant at the curb in front of our little house. My mother thought I either needed to go to an eye doctor or I was a bit touched in the head. Turns out she was right on both counts. The optometrist had a foreboding message: I was born hyper nearsighted, and my eyes were so distended (oblong) that I was a candidate to suffer detached retinas. He advised no contact sports, avoid roller coasters and such, and to come in immediately after any car accident, even a fender bender, to make sure I wasn’t in trouble. At that toddler age, I didn’t know I wasn’t normal and the world was just fuzzy and bumpy for everybody. Maybe that’s why I have a deep and abiding appreciation for music, since my hearing probably overcompensated for the poor vision.

From the time I could comprehend my situation, the fear of going blind loomed in the back of my mind. In those days, retina repairs were crude and did not enjoy a high success rate. Topping it off, the glasses I was given were the thickest most people had ever seen. By the time I got to middle school my nickname was “Eight Eyes” because four eyes did not adequately describe the vortex of distortion on my face. On the playground, I avoided dodge ball and tetherball and any physical games, opting to run around to release energy. The running was helpful to get me away from the bullies, too. Hey, look at the photo at the top of this blog! I mean, really – if I was any kind of self-respecting bully, then taunting and beating up on Delbert was a required duty.

I did grow up a huge baseball fan in North Hollywood. Going to Dodger Stadium with my dad was super special, and I wanted to play the game. My parents reluctantly allowed me to join a team, but because I had trouble seeing fast grounders and line drives the manager only trusted me in the outfield. Since every other fly ball disappeared when Eight Eyes frantically circled and searched the sky for it, I never got sent out for more than an inning or two. My field of focused vision even with my telescope glasses was much less than others. But I loved feeling part of a team and playing the game I loved. I just resigned myself that I was never going to be an athlete or be much more than a nerdy fumblebum. I finally got contact lenses and started to discover a real social life at 16, but the die had been cast.

Now for the environmental part. No one in my family had any athletic interest, and no one ever exercised. The biggest factor was my dad’s medical condition. Pops was an athletic youth and played varsity football and golf before the world boiled over. Bud Moon was a true WWII hero, manning the helm of the Coast Guard escort ship and small landing craft in the South Pacific. During his three-year service he was twice blown off his feet, once during a typhoon and again when a Japanese Kamikaze plane splashed next to the boat. As a result, my dad put up with almost constant back pain during the entire time I was raised. He couldn’t even play catch with me for more than a couple tosses. Mom got her exercise chasing four kids around and had never played sports. But hey, my dad could have easily found a watery grave and never met my mother, and I would not be writing this history. I’ll take it!

I did find a physical outlet by participating in marching band in high school and with the LSU “Golden Band from Tigerland” in college, so I did participate in a team exercise and loved playing my trombone on the field. I always joked that trombone was for me because it was the only instrument that you can succeed with by letting things slide. Again with the puns!

Entering my adult life I worked some pretty physical jobs with concerts and other special events. Early on I was a starving writer and always had a second job, often in food service. However, once I got going as a PR guy a few years later, most of my work time involved a desk, typewriter and a phone. Every attempt to start exercising fizzled as the tasks of raising two kids evaporated my time and energy. Eventually couch surfing and a 25-year love affair with Louisiana cuisine led me to The Great Metabolism Recession of 1993. When my motor powered down, the pounds started mounting up.

Now back to this vision thing. After decades of feeling the Raven of Darkness on my shoulder, the stern warning my first eye doctor came true. In late 2012, without any cause, the left eye failed. Then, the following March, I was in Cleveland for planning meetings for the 2013 National Senior Games presented by Humana when I woke up and noticed the “lamp shade closing” phenomenon starting in my right eye. By the time I sat down for the first meeting I knew it was game on.

It is imperative to get retina detachments treated quickly, and I was hundreds of miles from home. Luckily, the medical director for The Games was sitting right next to me and immediately called in an emergency appointment at the Cleveland Eye Clinic, where my fears were confirmed. Knowing that recovery involves laying face down for 50 minutes out of each hour for ten days or more, I called my surgeon in Atlanta and paid a small fortune to change my flight to get home right away. The next morning I was back in the chair, watching the bizarro light show under a happy gas fog.

The good news is that I can now see better than any time in my life and chances of having more are much lower than for the original failures.  Thank God for modern medicine. Even better is that I have made the commitment to never be sedentary again, and the carrot in front of me is the 1500 meter Power Walk at Nationals in Albuquerque next June. Now, I feel that my vision has been corrected in more ways than one.

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“TWEAK” UPDATE: My back spasms would not go away, so I got X Rays and began physical therapy. I found I have a degenerated disc between the L3 and L4 vertebrae, but the situation is manageable since the spasms are not as intense and usually end shortly after I get up and move around. Fast pace walking does not seem to aggravate it but caution has been advised. In addition, the PT has loosened me up and there’s hope this will subside if I approach things properly.

I’ve gained great advice on how to approach exercise and accelerated training activity, and it is working. After two weeks of short walks and allowing my muscles to flex better, I am just beginning to do spurts of distance power walking again. I have more than six months to prepare for the big event so I can ease back into the groove as my body allows.

Do your research, and don’t be afraid to ask questions or seek help for your specific situation. Until next time, the Moon Walker strides on…

TWEAK!

Uh Oh…

I knew the road might not be straight in this endeavor. Out of the blue, without any clear cause, a sharp back pain manifested in the middle of my spine. I could sit and stand without much discomfort, but when laying down the spasms would come with one wrong move. Tweak! Then, getting up after a sleep brought sharper spasms and stiffness. Tweak! TWEAK! Ugh.

The irony of having to sleep elevated on a La-Z-Boy did not escape me. I’m trying to spend less time there.

I could walk, but not for very long, so pushing it to power walk pace was not the best idea. My chiropractor provided some relief and advice, and I considered getting an MRI if it didn’t go away. You never know when your kidneys or some other machine part has a knocking valve, so to speak. Thankfully, it is subsiding and I’m easing back into the routine.

Note to self: STRETCH!

I do often stretch, but not in a consistent manner. When I wake, I will sometimes do a few slow straight leg lifts with my toes pointed, then slowly lift and “bicycle” a few times. Then rotate torso and stretch arms when I rise. However, I had not been stretching as a habit before walking. I guess the rubber band got too tight with my haphazard approach. My hammy’s need attention.

There are expansive resources online that provide advice and information about stretching. Here’s one I like by physical therapist Janice Eveleigh. The point is this: If you don’t want to Tweak!, loosen and warm up the engine before racing down the road. Take it from my rookie mistake.

Of course, not doing my routine walks and training at pace also had an adverse affect on my weight. But another event in the form of a medical procedure came to my rescue. Cue Infomercial:

Have you heard about the Colonoscopy Diet? Our scientific prep and no food intake for nearly 24 hours will melt pounds off like magic! Just a couple of delicious shakes to kick it off, and after you get clean as a whistle a doctor will give you happy gas and a thorough surgical examination. It’s over before you know it and you won’t feel a thing! And just watch those pounds and inches disappear! Try it now – “Operators” are standing by!

OK, kinda gross humor but please listen to me if you are over 50 and haven’t had one: Do it! I’ve lost two good friends far too soon to colon cancer, and the key to survival if your ticket is pulled is early detection and treatment. In my case, I have had benign polyps removed, and one of my siblings has had them too. Because of that, I am on a three-year cycle for testing instead of the usual five-year recommendation. I look forward to getting the procedure because it feels great to be told you are in the clear.

So, the procedure coincidentally helped me shed five pounds that had piled back on, and I’m up again. I’ve become a bit of a curiosity in the neighborhood, gliding at a fast pace and pumping my arms down the street. I hope people will stop me and ask about it so I can tell them about Senior Games and that a complete novice like me can “get into The Games” with a little work and motivation.

See ya next time when I take you back to understand why I shied away from sports.