Moving forward

June is here, and while Jennifer is busy wrapping up her graduate class for Central Michigan University’s first eight-week summer session, I am working to get back into running form for the summer season. I recently had my worst-ever time in a 5K race at the Alma Highland Festival of Races over the Memorial Day weekend, but it’s interesting how I feel it was my best race ever. Guess I rationalize it like this: First off, I was back out there running again; AND secondly, I set myself up to run a season-best time at the Human Race in Mount Pleasant next week! In addition...

What would you do?

In a surreal sort of way, I felt like the bad guy in a situation stripped straight from ABC’s hidden camera ethical dilemma series, What Would You Do?, hosted by John Quinones. But I had every reason and right to have our van parked in a handicapped parking spot close to Anspach Hall. Even after I just finished running my four-mile route on Central Michigan University’s Mount Pleasant campus. Part of me felt guilty, the other part was just itching for somebody to call me out on it. Unfortunately, nobody ever did. But had someone ever asked how I—a runner—could...

Guilty as charged

For the second time this year, a sense of longing weakens me as I watch the people running along the streets. I can’t do that. Another calf muscle tear has set me back a step or two; no longer able to run … right now. Give it time. Recover. Go for a walk instead. My runner mindset cringes at the thought of going for a walk. Yay. A walk. It’ll take me twice as long to cover half the distance of my regular run. I won’t even work up a sweat, so it’s barely worth the effort or the time I’ll put into it. Such sour grapes. That’s the runner whining. My anger soon...

What I have today

I hope the neighbors didn’t see me punch our mailbox. On this day the solid black box, accented with its red arm and gold letters identifying it as belonging to Jennifer and me, served as a tangible representation of my Multiple Sclerosis. And he had it coming. OK, so I didn’t really punch it. I guess it was more like a smack. It was a my way of nonverbally saying, “So there! Take that, ya thug.” For as much as I hope the neighbors missed my pseudo-mailbox beating, I pray they didn’t see me crying. OK, so I wasn’t really crying. I guess it was more like a...

Our story in pictures

We wanted to share with everyone the link to an incredible multimedia package about us that is in the April 25 Morning Sun’s print and online editions. The project started when Morning Sun photographer Ryan Evon approached us about following us around to develop a photo essay for the area daily newspaper. This package represents more than a year’s worth of his work, and we couldn’t be happier with how it turned out. We are grateful for the opportunity to share our story and increase MS awareness. Click here to see the story, photos and videos that tell our story...

Jennifer was right

Between a wall showcasing every major brand of running shoe in stock and a wall displaying the industry’s best wicking running apparel, the helpful salesman at Runners in Mount Pleasant squats and watches my feet as I walk back and forth on the uncarpeted section of the floor. His analysis of my gait determines that I’m a neutral, meaning my foot absorbs the shock the way it was designed to, as opposed to landing heel first or landing on the very outside of the foot first. He tells me what type of shoe I need. He smirks when I ask him to settle an ongoing debate...