Author: mikeljohnston1 (Page 45 of 269)
A neighbor ran by this morning, halfway through a 10-mile training run. He retired earlier this year and decided to do another triathlon just after the new year. I used to be motivated like that, but never to do a run, swim, bike challenge. Instead, I’ve now settled into a daily running streak that reached 5,116 consecutive days this morning. It made me wonder when the last time was that I ran over 10-miles? I couldn’t find a date in my diary but noted five 6.2-mile races I did during this current running streak. There were two in Austin, Texas (Capital 10k) with my best time at 1:03:49 in March of 2012. That was when I was still able to run at slightly over a ten-minute mile pace. I also ran the Human Race in August 2008 at 1:08:25, Helvetica in June of 2015, and The Heartbreaker in February 2016. Those were the last of my distance races with the exception of the Hood to Coast relay event in August 2017. One of my training runs in preparation was 9-miles long and that seems to be the last time I covered that much ground in one morning. There were three legs of Hood to Coast that I finished in a 24-hour period of 7, 5.2, and 5.3 miles each.
Since that time, I’ve settled on a maximum distance of 3.1 miles and consistently cover this most every day. My pace has slowed to 14-16 minutes per mile on average, so covering 10-miles would take me over two-and-a-half-hours to finish, if I wanted to take an injury risk. In the good old days, I could have finished in well under an hour-and-a-half. My best Marathon (26.2 miles) time was just over 3-hours in 1979. It was an International Marathon that couldn’t happen in these Covid times, starting in Canada through the Windsor tunnel into the city of Detroit. Crossing any border is difficult these days. Also, border guards don’t like to see people running.
It was during this time, that I once legged over 120-miles within the course of one week (over 17-miles a day)! My legs often feel like concrete anymore, but at 71-years of age I’m lucky to have avoided serious injury. It takes about a mile to even loosen up and then I begin to tire. There’s certainly a great deal of admiration for those who can still compete as fellow Sexagenarians. For me, however, it’s often just challenging enough to keep putting one foot in front of the other.
“That’s gonna leave a mark,” is the movie line delivered by Chris Farley in the comedy Tommy Boy. In real life, however, to make your mark means “to do something that will be remembered or that makes one famous or successful.” At 71 years of age, it’s unlikely that I’ll ever be famous, but I’ve been a successful brother, friend, father, grandfather, husband, stepfather, and businessman, with a few slips along the way. There has yet to be a statue to be erected, or a monument built in my honor, but I’ve seen my name etched on a few plaques, trophies, and certificates.
I continue to write for Storyworth, a gift from my family, that requires me to write my life’s story. It’s kind of like writing your own epitaph, so I apologize in advance for blowing my own trumpet. I can almost see myself speaking at my own funeral, so please bear with me.
Both of my grandfathers, Ross Adrian Hancher and William Jennings Johnston, along with my dad, Burton Lee Johnston, have achieved military honors, with their names inscribed on the Soldiers’ and Sailors’ Monument in Indianapolis. My greatest accomplishment might have been avoiding the Vietnam draft that took the lives of several of my high school classmates. They never had a chance to be a father, husband, grandfather, stepfather or businessman. I was fortunate to have a college deferment, attending both Albion College and Indiana University where I graduated in 1973.
I was married for the first time that year, had a son in 1974 and became a grandfather in 2007, 2009, and again in 2018. I remarried in 2001 while spending over 45 years in the media business (radio, agency, TV, and newspaper) before retiring in 2016. There have been no Hall of Fame honors, but the Indianapolis Advertising Club once named me “Man of the Year.” I’ve also earned several sales awards in the business, but the main benefit was a rewarding career that comfortably helped to support a growing family all these years.
Being adopted, I really now have two families while discovering over 900 DNA connections. My birth name was Jerry Lee Bannister and I have met several members of this group. I often wonder what life would have been like had I not had the good fortune of being loved and raised by Burt and Cathy Johnston? They left their generous mark on me, the most important in my life. It made me what I am today.
My resolutions have been updated and I’m ready for the New Year. The first big change will be the golf cart in the garage. Today, we did joint errands with our one remaining car, as I dropped my wife off for a pedicure. I picked up some medication, dropped off a license plate at the BMV, got the oil changed, and tried to get a car wash. They, of course, could find no record of my visit a few weeks ago when I was promised a month of free car washes. I thought they would route me through anyway but instead they went through the trouble of removing some barricades to allow me to exit. Chances are I won’t be going back there again.
I’m looking forward to the bowl games, even though Indiana football will once again not be participating. I feel like I made the wrong choice of schools and regret not going on for a Master’s degree so I’d have another team to support. I’ve tried to adopt the hometown schools where we lived through the years like Illinois, University of Texas, Oregon, and Oregon State but it’s just not the same as rooting for the Hoosiers – good or bad. I grew up in Elkhart, Indiana, so neighboring Notre Dame would have been a likely choice, but that didn’t work out either. I also partnered with Purdue University for years when I was with WLFI-TV in Lafayette, Indiana, but the home state Boilers are still too much of an I.U. rival to always find endearing.
I’ve made a lot of bad choices picking teams through the years. I’m sure the Atlanta Braves are worried that I’ve moved nearby their Spring Training facilities. I can hear them saying, “please don’t pick us.” The Cubs, White Sox, and Bears have already suffered enough with me as a fan. The Indiana Pacers and Portland Trailblazers have also found me to be undesirable. “Adopt the team where you live,” they’ve urged me as we’ve moved from market to market. I’ve now owned homes in six different states with little to show for it. Fantasy sports have proven to also be disastrous for the players I select. “Please don’t pick me to be on your team. I beg of you!”
You would think that I could have made a fortune gambling against all these teams but that has proven to backfire, as well. Ever since I went the wrong way on the basketball court as a kid, sports have become my frenemy. I enjoy watching but don’t dare risk picking a side. Only the 2016 Cubs have proven me wrong after years of frustration. Come to think of it, I never really claimed them as my team but followed them regularly so I could engage in conversations with my dad, son, and nephew, who were avid fans. I even saw them win a World Series game! By the same twist of fate, the White Sox had one good year in 2005, after I had stuck with them as my team for 46 years. I saw them win two World Series games that year, another highlight of my unrewarding sports history.
I hope that 2023 is a good sports year for me, but I won’t hold my breath. I doubt that I will make it to Wrigley Field or Guaranteed Rate Stadium, formerly Comiskey Park, this year, although I have great memories of attending games with family. We saw Mickey Mantle play at Sox Park and watched Sammy Sosa launch two homers at Wrigley to top Babe Ruth’s historical mark. There are too many father/son/daughter moments to recall, but win or lose, from generation-to-generation, baseball is always our greatest bond.
As we bring in the New Year, this is a week of anniversaries – 14 years of running every day and 6 years since retirement. With my son Adam’s mother and grandmother in town, along with a favorite Aunt, my wife and I waited to celebrate Christmas with the grandkids. We had dinner together and opened presents at our Islandwalk home. I’m waiting for a video of the Magic Mixies Cauldron that we didn’t have time to fully charge last night. It got the greatest reception of all the gifts, so I’m anxious to watch the reaction as it boils and bubbles to reveal the secret prize.
All of these important occasions were melded together in one week, along with the neighborhood progressive New Year’s party. We’re hosting the second appetizer leg of the four-stop home tour on our street, followed by dessert and a champaign toast. If all goes well, we may make it to that rare midnight hour, but we have an escape route planned just in case.
This is my 72nd Christmas, having celebrated my 71st birthday in August, although I remember very little about the beginning years. I was adopted at two months and didn’t have to go through the hassle of buying gifts for many years. Those were the good old days! This year I had three grandkids, their parents, and a wife to buy for. We met my wife’s two girls and their spouses in Kauai just after Thanksgiving for that half of the holiday celebration and just the two of us spent Christmas day planning our next trip. It was our 23rd together, twenty-one as husband and wife.
I’m copying this post from blog.johnstonwrites.com into Storyworth, a thoughtful Christmas gift from my son and his wife. I’ve written a daily article nearly every day since retirement, so much of my life’s story has already been captured. Retirement is not without Hassles is the primary focus of this Go Daddy site, but I also ramble on about sports, adoption, travel, running and pets, with a bunch of silly poems mixed in for variety. Since it is a public blog, I tend to avoid using any specific names so as not to embarrass anyone in my family. I’ve exposed just about everything about myself, but it’s likely only of interest to close friends. I will edit this page to make it a little more family friendly when I paste it into the Storyworth site. Hopefully, it’s WORTH reading but tends to be more personal therapy.
It’s comforting to be back in the routine of “Date Night,” Trash Day,” Matinee Monday,” and even the boredom of running my familiar neighborhood route every morning. I also took the gloves off this morning with the relatively warmer temperatures. I’m certainly grateful not to be dealing with snow, blizzard-like conditions, holiday transportation delays, health issues, computer problems, or a family crisis. Life is quiet, peaceful, and satisfying.
We are part of the neighborhood, progressive New Year’s appetizer party. My wife would be unhappy if we weren’t involved in this social extravaganza. It may end up keeping me up until midnight, although that will be at someone else’s home. I’m glad we don’t have that last shift and have the option of sneaking out early. Hopefully, it will be warmer, and we can spread the crowd out into the lanai. It will hardly be the party scene that we just witnessed in the movie, Babylon. Just us old farts with party favors and undoubtedly silly hats. No mountains of cocaine, nudity, or partner swapping. There will be lots of booze and everyone will be within walking distance of home.
We secured the deal on the golf cart (or old fart cart) this morning with an anticipated delivery for after the first of the year. It’s a one-year-old, electric model that a neighbor was forced to sell because his wife needs assisted living accommodations, so they are packing up for the move. I feel like we got a good deal to make up for the rotten sale price we got for the car. We’re driving our other car to Punta Gorda this afternoon for lunch with friends before we host the kids for Christmas tonight. Happy Ho-Ho-Holidays!
The evidence of Christmas Day is gone. Wrapping paper, empty boxes, bottles, cans, and cards have been recycled. The duck bones and remnants of the meal are on their way to the dump, with a few leftovers in the refrigerator. It’s so nice to once again have a working fridge in the kitchen. We no longer have to go to the garage now that it has finally been repaired – all the modern conveniences of home.
Gift giving was at a minimum this year after our trip to Kauai. I got a pair of socks and a new Kindle. Traditionally, I get my wife a Limoges Box each year and write a poem that’s stored inside. A porcelain cupcake was under the tree with a personal tribute to the pet-name I gave her many years ago – “Sweetie Pie”:
Cupcake
Tis the Season,
For candied scents,
Sugar Plums,
And Peppermints.
Pumpkin Bars,
Christmas cheer.
Gooey treats,
From the Chocolatier.
Slice of Key Lime,
Jamocha shake.
Recipes shared,
Goodies to bake.
Schweddy Balls,
Gum drops.
Peanut Brittle,
Lolly pops.
Cookie Monster’s,
Resistance weak.
Means dental care,
Early next week.
Let’s ice the cake,
And make Nazook.
Lick the bowl,
And kiss the cook.
These are a few,
Of my favorite things.
Outside of pizza,
And Wild Wings.
But the best of all,
Is Sweetie Pie.
Cupcake goodness,
Only mine to try.
Copyright 2022 johnstonwrites.com
It’s a chilly Christmas morning, our second celebration while living in Florida. Last year we were at Disney World with my wife’s oldest daughter and her husband. It was memorable because I screwed up my back. This is our first at home with little planned. We each have a gift to open, as every year there seems to be less and less under the tree. It’s hard to adjust to the retirement fact that money flows only one way – out.
I did make a reservation yesterday for our night in Orlando before catching a Frontier flight to Las Vegas. That isn’t until March, so we’ll be confined to the state of Florida until then. The snowbirds are starting to arrive, and we have our first meet-up next week in Punta Gorda with Decatur friends. After that, we’ll visit the San Marcos area for time with Elkhart friends, followed by a men’s golf trip to Anna Maria Island with former work buddies. My wife will stay home and entertain a girl friend from Indy, and then Ft. Wayne neighbors will visit. We’ll also take time to see my sister’s new place in Leesburg, overdue from last year, and stop by The Villages for a high school reunion with Mr. B. We’ll be busy but not more than a few hours from home until May for our Nile River cruise.
I just had a delicious cinnamon roll, baked by a neighbor to make up for all the calories I burned on this morning’s run. Once again, I was all bundled up and alone, with very few neighbors leaving the warmth of their homes. Tally did get to the dog park, as my wife had a rare occasion to wear one of her fur jackets, a memory of when my Christmas gifts were a bit more extravagant. She still deserves the luxuries of life like champaign, but now on a beer budget. Merry Christmas.
I was forced to bundle up on this Christmas Eve day in what is normally sunny Florida. However, the temperature was 35 degrees as I took to the streets this morning. The knee-high compression socks that I wore were comforting and supportive. Most days it’s just too hot to wear but it definitely helps keep my muscles and joints warm. My times were even a bit faster despite a stiff breeze on the way out. It felt good on the way back – the cold air in my lungs reminded me of being on the ski slopes. It also made me recall the only time I’ve ever won my age division in a 10k race. This was probably over 25-years ago in temperatures well below zero and unmentionable wind chills. Obviously, few people showed up and even fewer finished, but I seemed to relish the challenge.
Slow and steady is my motto these days, coinciding with my pace. There was one other runner that I spotted this morning guiding a dog on a leash. Our aging schnauzer Tally is usually only good for a short burst before she’s distracted by nearby smells. There was a time when she would tag along but not much anymore. My wife’s dog, Belle, when we first met, would actually wrap her leash around a mailbox post so she wouldn’t have to run with me. All my former pups -Gizmo, Smiley, Belle, Tinker, and Roxie – monitor my daily running streak from the heavens above, grateful that they don’t have to participate. Tally watches me pass by her dog park every morning and on occasion will come to the fence to greet me.
We had “Date Night” at Big Mike’s Pizza last evening and especially enjoyed their Mac & Cheese Boulders. As is the tradition, we always visit a new restaurant on this occasion. We have no plans for Christmas tomorrow since the beach picnic is cancelled due to cold weather. It would have just been the two of us, since my ex-wife and her family is now in town, so we’ll wait until next week to get together for gifts with the grandkids. A movie matinee might be in order, even though it’s not Monday.
