Pride, and the song I awoke hearing.

Two years ago we walked over four hundred miles from Louisville to Pittsburgh. During that trip I was possessed with walking every inch. Despite. My pride there were four times I had to get help. The first was a county sheriff in Gallatin Co. who was not going to let me walk through "his" county. It was a Saturday and it seemed to me I was interrupting his fishing time by getting calls about a guy with a big earth ball rolling thru. Second I was on a hilltop in Ohio and. The skies clouded up with a wind so strong I was holding on to the laces of the world and it was lifting a foot off the ground. I was hundreds of yards from any tree or structure and a young man drove up with a pick up and drove us out of harms way. We found out the next day a tornado had touched down at that hilltop. Another policeman outside Circleville Ohio got a friend to haul me across the bottoms to the visitors center where we and the policeman were interviewed and photographed by the paper . Good trade off I thought at the time. The last was a family who lived on top of "Kings Hill" which was a long winding stretch with tight guard rail and a shear rock wall on the opposite side. They told me of the many wrecks and deaths that happened often and I was glad for the help. It was an ugly hill with obvious guard rail damage all the way up.

I admit these facts because my pride had me resist all this help. Even with me being prone in forty mile winds with a tornado bearing down on us. Pride was not my friend at a time like that. I am spreading a message, not proving my manliness. I know you may laugh at this, coming from a 47 year old walking a dog and a six foot ball across the Mid-west promoting fitness and walking to prevent or control a devastating disease.

After walking on the road and the Katy trail for eleven mile yesterday and sleeping in the van for five hours I awoke this morning to a light shower of rain and a song repeating in my head. The line that rung in my ears was, "Accidents can happen, it's only hit and run." I don't recall it to be a song by Joe Jackson or Elvis Costello, but the two miles I had to walk on the approach and the bridge to get to Jefferson City and the state capitol with a posted speed limit of 70 mph or swallow my pride and strap the world to the rear of my van and arrive alive. We are now on Main street, the first exit which is also the lane directly in front of the capitol. I will walk around it to make up for some of the miles. I hope anyone out there who struggles with their pride can understand.

I am going to change my clothes and begin the day now that I have shared my story of pride.
I hope you can get a short walk in today. Walk for the ones you love so they can know you when you are old.