I run whenever I have the time. Sometimes I reason with myself on why I shouldn’t go. Too early. Too cold. Too hot. Its raining. No longer. I went out, fought the elements of snow, rain and sleet in 28 degree weather. The end result was this picture. This pic will be my motivation to get out there and run. If I have the time, I’m going. No more excuses.

What motivates you?


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Free Biscuit and Coffee. Anyone? Somebody?

Have you ever played out a scenario in your head, smiled and thought…this will be perfect? Well my brother and I did such a thing and we were highly disappointed with the end result.

During the winter season, my brother and I deliver split firewood to customers. We split the wood, load the truck, head out down the road and find our address. We are notorious for grazing along the way. Quick biscuit, coffee or maybe a Gatorade or 2. Oh and throw in a good ole scratch ticket for good measure.

On the way back from a delivery into Richmond we were halted by a red light. On this particular morning, it was about 20 degrees out with the wind chill. Being first in line at the light, we had a clear view of a bundled up man holding a cardboard sign. We couldn’t make out what the sign said, but no need. We understood. My brother was driving. We looked at the man and made a decision. Help him out. Not by throwing money, but buying him a cup of hot coffee and a biscuit. We both have never helped a person on the street. Something felt right about it. It was cold out.

We head on through the light. As we pull into McDonald’s we see another person with a sign. Are they related? Working a scheme to make money? This was a woman, clearly looking cold. Her sign. “Homeless”. Well, we can’t just ignore her. We headed to the drive thru and got 2 biscuits and 2 coffees.

We circle back around and head over to the first guy on the street. We will call him Homeless Man or HM for short. As we come to a stop, I roll down my window, extend my arms out with a hot biscuit and coffee. The following unfolds in an awkward moment.

Me: Hey, you hungry? You want a biscuit and hot coffee?

HM: Naw man. I need some coin to get to the city.

Me: You don’t want a biscuit? I got creamer for the coffee? You sure you don’t want it?

HM: Naw, Naw man just need some coin.

Me: Man, you positive? Its cold out.

HM: Naw man. Hey, whatcha got man? What else you got in there? You got any sugar?

Me: No, just creamer. You want it?

HM: Naw, man, I just need some coin.

Remember folks, its 20 degrees out. At this point my brother is slowly pulling away. My brother says to me. “Forget him man, let’s go.”

I couldn’t agree more. What a waste of time. I could not fathom how someone could turn down food and coffee. Hot food and hot coffee at that. Hell, just hold the cup and warm up your hands. Who cares. Save the biscuit for later. Or just take it, say thanks and never eat or drink it. Maybe he wasn’t hungry or didn’t want coffee, but his actions said otherwise. He was on the streets with a sign, clearly with no place to go.

We head out, clearly disturbed by this. Time to test the waters again on the homeless lady. We will call her Homeless Lady, or HL for short. The following took place.

Same scenario. We pull up with biscuit and coffee out the window.

Me: You want a biscuit and hot coffee?

HL: Thank you thank you! Lord thank you!

Me: Hey, you like some creamer with the coffee?

HL: Yes sir. Lord bless you. Thank you fellas. Lord bless you guys! Thank you!

We drive off. We quickly turn around and head back towards her and back onto the main road. As we pass, you can see her eating the biscuit and coffee in hand. As we pass, she gives a good ole “Forest Gump” wave. She was happy as could be. I do feel that my brother and I did help someone out that day. For the other fellow, I hope he makes it to the city some how and finds a way to stay warm.

As far as the food the man didn’t accept. Well, I had a nice warm cup of coffee and my brother had himself a biscuit.

Have you ever had a moment like this? Do you help people holding cardboard signs?

For me, my helping days are one and done.

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Rated “R” for Mature Language…just read it

Yesterday after work I decided I wanted to go for a run at the park. Nothing unusual there. Something I do on a regular basis. I get all my gear on, grab my running buddy (our Llewellin Setter) and we head to the park. As I’m running, I realize that I have really slacked on posting on my blog. I needed a good topic. I look down at Willow, she is fully focused, running so effortlessly next to me. She has that doggie grin on her face and loving every minute. Then it hits me, I’ll write a nice little post about Willow, my running buddy.

Not so fast. Before I could gather my thoughts, I hear the rustling of leaves. A rat looking thing is chasing us. Not sure what it is, we pick up the pace. It looked like some sort of demonic groundhog. It was fast and closing the gap. Before we knew it, it was right next to us. Oh, it was just a rat looking mutt of sorts. Little guy had a collar and leash, but no owner. I grab the leash, introduce the two dogs the best I could.

I hear a holler from the holler (hollow). I assumed this was the rat dogs owner and I hollered back. The following events/ conversation took place.

Mystery Man: Cheeeeeeew eeeeeeeeey!

Me: I got your dog!!!!

M.M.: That little f@cker got away from me.

Me: I got your dog!!!!

M.M. Catch up, you’re damn slow.

He must have another dog with him that is slow. Poor thing. Boy was I wrong. Coming up from the woods was a man and a little 5, maybe 6 year old girl dressed in pink and a white fluffy vest. Cute girl, annoying dad. As they approached me, the man pushed a branch from a holly tree out of his way. The branch swung and hit the girl right in the eye. She began try cry from the pain.

M.M. You deserved that. What are you crying about? It’s your fault we are chasing this damn dog.

Me: Silent

M.M. That f@cking dog got away when she was taking a piss in the woods.

Me: Silent

M.M. Let me see your eye. Awe, just zip it, you’re fine.

M.M. Hey, there is another dog, little black f@cker, you seen it.

Me: Heard a dog up the hill.

M.M. Oh man, I hate these f@ckers. Annoying. Thanks for grabbing him for me.

Me: Silent.

I never said a word to the man. Better yet, I didn’t say a thing to the low life. I handed him the leash and took off running down the hill. I was worried…for the girl, for those two dogs, for anyone associated with this man. He was quite frankly a poor specimen of human being.

Being a father of a 6 year old girl and a loving dog owner, I was deeply disturbed by this event. It hurts. It hurts to hear someone talk to another person like that. Then for it to be an innocent little girl who gets the blame for the whole event via a mouth full of F bombs, well, that’s just hateful. No one deserves to be a father and act like that.

So, no post on my running buddy for today, just a rant on some random dead beat dad.

Oh and Mom, sorry about the language.

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