29 to 35: My Story to 49

 29-35

A couple of weeks ago I woke up realizing I was turning 49 in less than a month. No, I am not worried about getting older, I was pumped because I was turning 49 and how cool it was to be a prime number. Oops, about three seconds later I realized that 49 is not a prime number and that neat phenomena wasn’t going to happen until I turn 53. However, the fact that 49 can be divided equally into 7 equal parts of 7 led me to realize that, with some minor overlap, my life has really worked well in the 7-year increments. So, to appease my own curiosity and to cathartically get it out, I decided to write about each of my 7-year segments leading up to turning 49. 

This little project has taken a life of its own, but it is amazing that I cannot seem to sit down and write it out until 9:30 at night.  This evening, MJ and I shot our first podcast for our Beyond the Curve Podcast so we had to set up the trailer so we could shoot it.  Obviously, that took longer than any of us expected.  It really helps to have a great partner, and she is a big part of tonight’s retrospective.  29 was a great age for me, heck, there is that prime number I was looking for, as Michelle and I were finishing our rookie season of married life.  We purchased a home four months after we got married, both had good jobs, and were just finding our way through the world as a married couple.  We did married couple things and even thought about getting ahead in our own little world.  We were both teachers, her in elementary school and me at a middle school.  September 11^th happened for both of us with a classroom full of students.  Each of us watched that unfold and wondered what it would be like to bring a child into that world.

 

While we were both teaching, I thought it would be fun, and not time consuming at all, to start a lawn service.  It was small, manageable, and allowed us to travel in the fall and winter whenever we wanted.  When January/February rolled around we were in the planning stages of finding out what it was going to be like to raise a kid in a world where our own country had been attacked.  I turned 30 that May knowing it was going to be my last birthday not being called dad.  Michelle was a trooper.  We put in new sod and even went to Daytona for the Pepsi 400 while she was very pregnant.  Less than a week after our second anniversary, Brianna Kealy Heath joined us, making us a family of three.  She definitely did not hold us back.  She went to races, heck she was going to those before she was born, she went on trips, and some say she became the best home seller for Ken and Ruthie with their real estate business.  Not all was smooth though.  Michelle could sense something was missing in my world and that was competition.  Coming from BMX and tennis at a high level to being a normal adult just was not going well for me.  My love for auto racing was greater than my economic capability so that was not a possibility. However, my cousin, Justin Wright, was racing motocross and it seemed that this might be a something I could do.  So, Michelle and I went down to Sky Powersports, here in Lake Wales, now known as McKibben, and we purchased a brand new YZ 125CC dirt bike.  The next step was to learn how to ride it.  So off I went to Dade City MX track for lessons.  Me at 30 years old out on the track with the 4–6-year-old kids all learning the same things.  Yeah, I was hooked.

 Through trial and error, I was able to get to the point that I could actually ride the beast.  I entered some beginner MX races and even won a trophy, 3^rd place, at one of them.  Not everyone in the family was super supportive of this new endeavor, but Michelle and Brianna were the best support team I could have asked for.  From 30-32 life was about watching Brianna grow, helping Michelle at her school, and learning how to be a better rider.  I think I was still teaching but that was beginning to come to an end, as I just could not handle the kids.  It was probably way more me than them.  During this time period I also had gotten my volunteer firefighter standards and also went and got my EMT standards.  I was working in the agriculture sector and riding my dirt bike whenever I could.  During the Christmas parade in Lake Wales in ’03 my racing career would take on a completely different look.  I ran into the Deputy Chief of the Lake Wales Fire Department, Chuck Croley, and he asked me if I had ever thought about doing hare scrambles.  I advised I had no idea what that was.  He explained that instead of going to a MX track and racing for 4 laps, sitting and waiting for an hour, and then racing 4 more laps, I could go race for two hours non-stop and then call it a day.  For some reason, this sort of torture appealed to me, so I had to go try it.  

So, in January of 2004 we all loaded up and headed to Polk City for me to race in my first hare scramble.  I was racing in beginner 1 in the hour and half race.  It was exhilarating.  As I was coming to the finish, I was in third place.  This was easy.  I would be a “C” class rider in no time at all.  About a quarter mile from the finish, I hit some sort of stump, went ass over elbows, and laid on the ground looking up at the sky.  I was fine but when I went to crank my bike the radiator started spewing coolant 10 feet in the air.  The gentleman that helped me up advised that I was probably done for the day.  When I got back to the truck, Michelle asked me why I did not just push the bike through the finish line since I was able to push it back to the truck.  Lesson learned!!  If you can finish, even if it means you push, finish.  There in started the hare scramble racing career, obviously as a rank amateur, and it has had many fits and starts over the past 17 years. 

Hurricane Charley came and put a damper on Brianna’s 2^nd birthday.  Being as we were without power and a home that was uninhabitable, we made the best with what we could do.  Again, the kid, affectionately known to me as Pea Pod and now as The Pod, just handled it.  We moved to a rental home, she had sleep overs with grandma and grandpa, and we just survived.  It was also this time, during this stretch of three hurricanes that I would eventually get fired, the only time that it happened to me, so life and its curveballs were coming in hot.  As I went into 2005, I really was not sure what I was going to do.  Michelle was entrenched in the education world, Brianna was developing at a great pace, and I was floundering.  Again, no direction.  I did go get my real estate license and thought that might be the answer.  Apparently, sports have a way of pulling me in or away, I am not really sure.  My dad happened to be the AD at Webber International University and needed a Women’s tennis coach.  I did not really want to do it, but it was some extra part-time money, and it was my dad, so I said yes.  Oh, my goodness, the women’s team was so nice, but they were not particularly good.  However, they tried hard, trained hard, and really wanted to be successful.  Life was great, we were getting destroyed but the season was going to be a breeze.  Of course, it could not be that smooth.  The men’s coach, upon completion of his MBA in February, took a position at a very nice club in CT.  All the sudden the men’s team, which was ranked to ten in the country did not have a coach.  I was voluntold for the position and that led me into the next twelve years of my coaching life. 

The men’s team qualified for nationals so off we all went to Mobile, AL.  Michelle and Brianna drove up separately and even took a couple of the players with them.  Brianna learned the art of colorful language on that trip, and we had a blast.  Brianna was so good at fitting in to all the scenarios she was thrust in and I think that is why she adapts so well now.  Being at Webber allowed Michelle and I to spend a lot of time with a part of my family that I have failed to mention at all in this retrospective.  When my dad married Stella, for many years it was just my sister, Michelle, and myself.  We were separated by four years so there was not much overlap in our lives.  When I was late in my teens my dad and Stella decided to add to our family.  I was fortunate to have another sister, Stephanie, and brother, Tyler that added so much to my life.  They were also a great birth control because there was no way I was ready to have rug rats like them for myself.  Stephanie was a handful and Tyler, when he was incredibly young, was a mini me.  Fast forward to when I started coaching at Webber.  Both had gone through Babson Park Elementary, so we were going to all their functions and getting to be an active part of their lives.  Both kids were very athletic, so we found ourselves at Frostproof High School watching volleyball games, soccer matches, golf rounds, and tennis matches.  They kept us all busy and really were a lot of fun to be around.  They were also wonderful with Brianna.  They were younger and would rough house with Brianna.  I think that helped toughen her up. 

One of the coolest things I did while I was 34 was to be asked to participate in Lake Wales Leadership with my dad.  This was a great experience and something I will hold dear.  Time marched on, Webber was becoming my home, Babson Park seemed like it was going to be where we lived, and life was going smoothly.  Well, that was until the Men’s tennis job came available at Florida Southern College.  It was very weird asking my boss, who happened to be my dad, if I could apply for the position.  I did not think I had a chance of getting it, but I thought going through the process would be good for later in my coaching career.  You see, I had only coached one and half years as a head coach when I went for my interview.  Somehow, Lois Webb, Pete Meyer, and Marie Scovron, saw something and I was offered the job.  So, in the summer of 2007 I left Webber and become the Moc’s Head Men’s tennis coach.  We continued to live in Babson Park, so I drove 34 miles one way every day.  It turned out to be a great way to prepare for the day and to wind down from the day.  The pressure at that next level was something I was not quite prepared for, but that first season was a lot of fun and extremely rewarding.  We qualified for Regionals, we had quite a few All-Americans, and I was ready for what the next year had to offer.  Oh yeah, I also finished my MBA during that first year at my new job as well.  Stack it all on and hopefully you can carry the load.

We are nearing the end and tomorrow we tackle 36-42.

22 to 28: My story to 49

 22-28

A couple of weeks ago I woke up realizing I was turning 49 in less than a month. No, I am not worried about getting older, I was pumped because I was turning 49 and how cool it was to be a prime number. Oops, about three seconds later I realized that 49 is not a prime number and that neat phenomena wasn’t going to happen until I turn 53. However, the fact that 49 can be divided equally into 7 equal parts of 7 led me to realize that, with some minor overlap, my life has really worked well in the 7-year increments. So, to appease my own curiosity and to cathartically get it out, I decided to write about each of my 7-year segments leading up to turning 49.

“Home again” was a phrase that got used a lot during my earlier years.  Now with a daughter who traveled with her horses and me who started racing hare scrambles later in life, that phrase has come around again.  We just got home from the last FTR race for this season.  The trailer is empty, the bike is clean, and so is the nasty gear.  Dinner has been prepared so now it is time to recount another seven years.  Tonight, I jump into seven years that led to changes that are still in effect with my life these days.

 I graduated from Webber at 21 but within two weeks turned 22.  After graduation it was intended for me to head straight to Germany to play the summer German team tennis league and to try my hand at the European pro scene.  However, my sister Michelle was scheduled to graduate from Winter Haven High School and the family thought it was important for me to stay and watch her graduate.  After much fussing, I stayed and watched as she was honored.  This trip was a great honor for me.  I was the first person in my family to travel across the pond, and to get to play tennis while seeing the sights was an awesome bonus.  Remember this was 1994 so communication was not the easiest.  I had a long-time girlfriend who was at home but letting her know how things were going was not a common experience.  While there, I learned how difficult it is for the international students.  My great-grandmother passed away, we were close, and I could do nothing but mourn her privately.  The trip was awesome, I saw some amazing things, and then it was time to come home. 

 In one of the previous posts, I mentioned that I really did not have preparations for my career after college.  That is not completely true.  One of my mentors, Dean Kendall, who had kind of taken me under his wing at 15, well he still helps me out today, was/is a successful stockbroker, annuities broker, and business guru had offered me the opportunity to learn his trade.  Me being me knew better and headed to Europe.  Well, opportunity lost is a great life lesson.  When I came back from Europe, I really had nothing.  I tried my luck with tennis stateside, I worked about five jobs at Webber, heck, I even drove forklift and packed trucks for a mailbox manufacturing company.  Life was beating me up and I was having a blast.  I pissed away money, had no direction, and appeared to be enjoying my mediocrity.  I worked as an assistant tennis professional at the Lakeland Yacht Club, thanks to Robert Hollis, one of my original tennis coaches, and my best friend Blake, who had plenty of direction, let me rent a room from him in the new house that he had purchased.  Remember, I told you he was a worker.

 Relationships came and they also went.  From 23 to 26 life was just a shit show for me.  Bouncing from jobs with no direction at all.  When I turned 26 life was at a tipping point.  Jimbo and I were partying, I was working at Webber in multiple part-time jobs, and we were having fun like you see in those crazy teenage or youth gone wild movies.  Complete debauchery.  Although, even with all that craziness I was a witness, also assistant coach, to complete greatness by the Webber tennis program, led by my dad.  Man, Webber was fun.  It was a work hard, party hard place.  Here is where the balance of life took a shift.  There was this golf tournament hosted by Webber and it was a party at the course.  It turned into a party on the way from the course, and that continued at the meal back at Webber.  As I returned to my condo I remember coming in the door, before dark, and then I remember 3am.  You see, I did not know when to stop.  The kids use a phrase, “Black out drunk”, and I had that mastered long before the phrase became vogue.  When I came to, I was wrapped in a blanket, have no idea where it came from, and was covered in vomit.  To say that I was scared to death was almost a true phrase.  I was so petrified that I ended up washing and drying the blanket and taking a shower before I went to bed properly. 

Another amazing thing that happened in that year was my dad’s 50^th birthday party.  You see, he was turning 50 and we were having a huge bash for him.  That led me to want to get him a really cool gift.  Ironically, little Babson Park had an antique store owned by Erin McCallister and managed by her young granddaughter, Michelle Welch.  As I perused the Knotty Boys collection I just had to ask, “Hey you want to go out some time?”  Her response would put me on pins and needles for months to come.  “Well, I’m only 17 so let me ask my mom and dad.”  What, at this point I was 26 and I am infatuated with a 17-year-old.  I advised her not to worry about it, but I would love to take her out once she turned 18.  Well, one thing led to another and finally in September we went on that first date.  On the third date, the same night as the party, I asked her a question, well maybe made a statement, that changed both our courses.  We stole away a couple of moments and I looked her in the eyes and said, “I don’t want to play any games, if you want to date me, then I’m in.”  I am probably adlibbing that a bit, but the point was, this kid, who was way more mature than me and the eight years I had on her, was forced to make a life altering decision.  She should have been having the time of her life in college far away from home but instead I was asking her to become my girlfriend. 

Amazingly, her parents accepted me, my advanced age, and my lack of direction the best way parents can when their only child brings home a scruffy puppy.  We dated, I still floated about the career/job spectrum and the dating turned into real love.  Her dad, seeing the relationship put down some roots, helped me gain some direction.  One evening he told me that if I was going to be able to take care of his daughter the way that she deserved, I should probably get started on a career.  It is weird how things happen.  I was working at Webber but at the end of the semester a lot of my jobs were removed, repositioned, or simply taken away.  Ouch to the pocketbook.  Enter the wonderful world of GEICO.  It was a great job, I did not hate it, it was real with potential, but I did hate the constraints.  However, it allowed me to prove that I was willing to be serious because, sometimes a bit of sacrifice is worth it when you really want something so precious.  Oh yeah, of course there were jokes, snide comments, and sneers that I was dating someone so young.  It is funny, we really do not get those now, 21 years later. 

With a new relationship, a new career, and really no idea what I wanted to do, Michelle and I dated like couples do.  She was going to college and working at the courthouse and I was working at GEICO.  She would sneak over to my office to eat lunch with me, or I would sneak over to USF/Lakeland to have a car picnic with her.  To this day, we still have some of our best conversations while eating a meal in our “car picnics”.  I took her to her first NASCAR race, sportscar race, and her family took me to my first ever World Series game.  We had holidays together, meals together, and by ’99 kind of thought that this might be it for each of us.  With the help of my mom, I chose the best ring I could get, got the gumption up to ask her dad for his 19-year-old, most important thing in the world to him, only daughter’s hand in marriage.  He had some really strict rules, that to this day I have honored and will continue to honor, and most importantly, he gave me permission.  On December 19, 1999 I took Michelle over to their family’s lake house, got down on one knee at the front porch, and asked her to marry me.  I actually did not hear her answer because an airboat went by right after I asked. 

 Wow, this is for real.  We were going to get married in August of 2000, but I cannot discuss that tonight because I would be 29 at that point.  The excitement was real, the journey had just begun, and for a guy who never wanted to get married, it is funny how life changes.  I guess the next seven years started with some excitement.

From 0 to 49: My Journey in 7 Year Blocks - 15-21

 0 – 7 on the way to 49: 15-21

 A couple of weeks ago I woke up realizing I was turning 49 in less than a month. No, I am not worried about getting older, I was pumped because I was turning 49 and how cool it was to be a prime number. Oops, about three seconds later I realized that 49 is not a prime number and that neat phenomena wasn’t going to happen until I turn 53. However, the fact that 49 can be divided equally into 7 equal parts of 7 led me to realize that, with some minor overlap, my life has really worked well in the 7-year increments. So, to appease my own curiosity and to cathartically get it out, I decided to write about each of my 7-year segments leading up to turning 49.

 As I jump into the 15-21 segment this evening, I am coming to you from the beautiful city of Okeechobee sitting in a motel that caters to the Big Lake fisherman.  My beautiful wife and our daughter’s adopted dog are calling this place home for the night in preparation for the last FTR hare scramble of the season.  However, they are much later in this reflection and I need to stay focused on the task at hand.  When I first started this piece, I really did not think much about this seven-year stretch.  It was just busy, lots of travel, fun times at home, and some more shaping events, and then I realized a lot really happened.

 Early in the 15-year-old age I started high school at Winter Haven High School.  Tennis was a big part of my daily life.  This high school year was also where I met one of my nearest and dearest friends.  We would go through a lot of fun times together and some that just cemented our friendship.  Blake was not, and still is not, at tennis player but we bonded in Spanish class and the rest was history.  He was a worker, and I was a player, tennis player that is, but we started hanging out whenever we could.  Through that sophomore year of high school, we had our fun at school, ogled over the females, and kept anticipating when we would be able to drive ourselves around.  The high school tennis was really good, but we never could get past the juggernaut that was Lakeland High School.  My personal tennis was taking me all over the state and as my ranking crept up, the tournaments became further away.  I played a lot.

 Turning sixteen was liberating.  Back in those days having a car was freedom.  Thanks to my parents I was able to travel many places.  It was just a different time.  Tennis was even bigger in my life and travel was not just happening by car now, but I was catching flights, staying with host families, and trying to make it to the next level.  No, not pro, but the highest level of junior nationals.  I seemed to be just under the next step and so many of the guys I trained with were getting to experience those big tournaments.  Chris Muller and Russell Briggs were not only teammates but also some of my biggest targets.  They had the success I was striving for.  I got to go to some of the smaller nationals and they were a blast.  Much of the time I traveled with my dad and Stella but when the summer would come around my mom would travel with me to the local tournaments.  Because of Stella and her travel agency I was a fairly spoiled traveler.  We had great hotels and I flew all over the US to play in tournaments.  The tennis life was so much fun in our area during that time.  We trained hard, skied whenever we could, play lots of golf, and partied, well I did, whenever I was not playing tournaments.  Oh yeah, I played lots of tournaments.  I cannot remember which year it was during my high school days, but I played 36 tournaments.  It was crazy but I would not trade it for anything.  Thanks to Blake I never got in too much trouble.  I caused him a lot of trouble, and for that I will always be indebted to him.

 Senior year is supposed to be the best time before heading off to conquer the world as a college tennis player.  This is probably where I lost my way some.  There were so many good things that happened this year, but there were a couple that caused me some grief, humiliation, and taught me some lessons I still work on these days.  My dad and I had some great recruiting trips and I some interest from some decent sized schools.  Instead of keeping my foot on the gas, I engaged in a bit of senioritis.  Who knew that schools were still paying attention?  Tennis was going well, and I was still improving.  Between competing often and training with Jim Fitzpatrick daily, that part of my life was pretty square.  The senior year has so much happening that things can become a blur.  For me, that blur was caused by an inability to stop partying when I should have.  Blake saved me from myself more than once that year but one of the biggest gaffes was also super humiliating.  Prom; the ornate dresses, limos, expensive dinners, and a night at a fancy Disney Resort.  This was the plan, but I did a splendid job really messing that up.  I ruined my date’s evening and probably put a pretty large damper on our limo mate’s night too.  There was no way around it.  I screwed up royally.  The next morning was not fun at my house, especially since the limo driver had to help me to my front door.  My dad was so disappointed, not angry, and I believe my mom felt the same way.  Fortunately, my social life did not affect my tenacity on the tennis courts.  My senior year, the Blue Devils had a bad ass tennis team.  We qualified for states and finished second as a team.  This team would send players to Furman, Davidson, FSU, UCF, Stetson, and Lees-McRae.  I was fortunate enough to be slotted at the number five position in singles and number two doubles.  I won the state tournament in singles and doubles so that was a positive way to end my senior year.

 Turning 18 and heading off to college was a great experience.  Thanks to Fish Gupton, Coach Don Baker, who just recently passed away, and the entire tennis team at Lee-McRae for making me feel so welcome.  That year flew by.  I started working there during the summer camps and that set the tone for the remainder of my freshman year.  I met some great people, had some amazing experiences, and played some great tennis.  We qualified for JUCO Nationals in Tyler, Texas, and my dad and Memaw even drove out to watch us.  I really thought as I transitioned from a freshman to a sophomore and from 18-19 that I would run home for the summer and head back to Banner Elk.  Life happens and scholarships change, and that is what happened to me.  I never really figured out the details, but economics are economics and I ended up in Babson Park playing for the Warriors of Webber and for my Dad.  I really did not want to come home but the hoopla and excitement around playing for my dad seemed to be a good local story.  The best part of the summer was when my cousin, Ross, went to Lees-McRae with me to pick up all my things.  I was dating a wonderful tennis player who happened to be playing tennis at Southwest Missouri State so we thought we would just run over there to say hello.  Well 12 hours later we were there.  Only problem, I needed to be home for a photo shoot with my dad.  Well, off we took from Springfield, MO and started the “quick trip” back to Lake Alfred.  I needed to be home by 11am and I dropped off my cousin at 5:30 that morning.  It was a blast and was kept secret from the rest of the family for many years.  We had so many fun things happen in that 19 hours.  At one point Ross was seeing flying pigs, we could not get the windshield wipers to turn off, so we put the van in neutral, turned off the ignition, turned the wipers off, and then cranked it back up.  Oh yeah, all of this happened while doing 75mph down the interstate. 

 From 19-21 my time was spent at Webber getting my degree in Finance.  There was a lot of awesome tennis, many great parties, and some fun times with ladies.  Webber’s tennis program was coming into its own, Bill (my dad) worked us hard, and we had success all three years I had the privilege of playing there.  We went to Nationals two of the three years and for me I had some great personal success.  The only thing I forgot to work on while I was at Webber was my future.  That would hinder the next seven years, but they too were a lot of fun.

 Well, it’s time to go to bed so that I can go out and compete in this last race tomorrow.  One last thing, my nephew, MJ Yodonis, was racing today on his quad and we invited him to hang with us this evening, so we now have a full room and have been listening to dreams of his future.  He is currently in the age range that this little piece covered tonight, and I am doing everything in my power to help him not make those same mistakes that may hinder his ability to reach his goals.  Experience is often painful, but damn I had fun, most of the time, getting those scars.  Until tomorrow!!

From 0 to 49: My Journey in 7 Year Blocks - 8 to 14

0 – 7 on the way to 49: 8-14  

A couple of weeks ago I woke up realizing I was turning 49 in less than a month. No, I am not worried about getting older, I was pumped because I was turning 49 and how cool it was to be a prime number. Oops, about three seconds later I realized that 49 is not a prime number and that neat phenomena wasn’t going to happen until I turn 53. However, the fact that 49 can be divided equally into 7 equal parts of 7 led me to realize that, with some minor overlap, my life has really worked well in the 7-year increments. So, to appease my own curiosity and to cathartically get it out, I decided to write about each of my 7-year segments leading up to turning 49.

Today I venture through ages 8 through 15. There were some awesome things that occurred during these seven years. Many people assume that when you use the term awesome that it means simply good things. It can inspire fear as well. During my eight-year-old times I was still playing youth soccer and little league baseball. I was fortunate enough to play on teams that were sponsored by Central Florida Aluminum. Having the opportunity to play soccer coached by my Aunt Jane and playing baseball with my cousin Ross, while being coached by my Uncle Allen must have been fun but also probably allowed me to understand family pressure at an early age. Another great thing that happened when I turned 8 was getting “my” first dog, Penny. Our family always had dogs, but she was my first one. I think she was some sort of Chihuahua mix. She had a lot of staying power and lived until I was 21 or so. The eighth year was not all sunshine and rainbows, to steal a phrase from Rocky. My parent’s marriage dissolved and things were rough before they were better.

Although my mom and dad could not live as a couple, they never challenged us to pick sides. Okay, I am not naïve, maybe in the beginning it was not perfect but then they realized they had two kids who were doing good things and they worked together to give us great lives. Once I started elementary school, I was afforded the opportunity to attend an incredible school in Winter Haven. It was called Saint Paul’s Episcopal. We had to wear uniforms, attend chapel, and had Fathers who oversaw the school. It was an amazing educational experience all the way through the 7th grade. Amazingly, many of the same people I went through St. Paul’s with, I graduated high school with as well. So many of them have gone on to be super successful in their own careers. We had outstanding teachers, did the coolest labs, went on amazing field trips, and had a bad ass playground.

Ages 9,10,11 were all kind of normal kid years. Home life was great. I spent time at two different homes, had two Christmas’, played the typical youth sports, had my introduction to youth team tennis, and traveled with the family to our normal vacation spots. Looking back on some old pictures, it appears that the devilish side of me started coming out with my crooked little grin. Life seemed to be headed down a normal path, but nirvana was waiting on the outfield fence of the Lake Alfred Little League fields at Lion’s Park. 

 BMX, otherwise known as bicycle motocross, was a racing form that was getting huge. Lake Alfred even jumped into the market and created a track behind the baseball fields. I will never forget going out and watching my first race. My dad thought it might be fun, so we gave it a shot. I ran a paper pie plate for my first race, did not have hand brakes, and for sure sucked. But guess what, I was hooked. This was my chance to race like my dad and granddaddy. Sure, it was not cars, but it was fast, and boy was it fun. We started going to the races on Sundays and met the other locals who raced as well. Some of them had been in it longer and let us know that we could leave the comfy confines of LA and head to places like Orlando and Sarasota. As I improved the travel picked up. My mom and I would load up in her Dodge Omni with the bicycle on a rack off the back and go to Sarasota on Friday night, Orlando on Saturday night, and then Lake Alfred on Sunday. This was such a cool experience. I started getting better and we started going further away. I am not sure there was a track in Florida that I did not race on. We started doing Nationals and at 12 I was fortunate enough to win two novice nationals. There was not a National or large regional race that we missed. God, I loved BMX.

This three-letter set of initials pretty much dominated my life for the next few years. I traveled all over the US with other racers, when my parents could not go, and it even got to the point that my dad purchased an RV for my mom to take us to races for the big nationals. Most kids my age were playing team sports, tennis, or golf, but for me pedaling with all my might around a jumping, fast track was what life was all about. There were times I would bring trophies back from some of the big races and they were almost as tall as me. My classmates really did not understand but I truly did not care. Oh yeah, I also played the piano because my mom thought I needed to be a bit more well-rounded. This talent would eventually lead me to getting to play the huge pipe organ in the chapel at St. Paul’s. That was a cool experience. As I got to the age of thirteen, I think I was starting to feel some resistance. Life was mine. I was a State High Point Champion in BMX, I had the lead part in the school play, which was Benjamin Franklin, I had the coolest friends with the coolest toys, and I was a sponsored BMX racer whose pants got a little too big. This next part is super personal and still affects me today. I have never forgotten the lesson, have used it on my daughter with much explanation, and have had multiple discussions with athletes about the consequences of your words.

When we went down the path of BMX racing my dad had very few rules. One was to try my hardest each race and the other was to never quit. Not being the most talented and getting a late start I was just a brute of a rider. I developed such strong legs that I often had to gear my bicycles higher because I would simply pedal through my gearing. As I got better the local races became great practice sessions since we were always racing big State races or out of state at the War of the Stars, otherwise known as the Nationals. There were times, whether locally or nationally, that I would fall during the race, quickly get up and hustle to the finish line because you just never knew what was going to happen with the other racers. Well, one Sunday my ego (and thinking I was some sort of bad ass) took over at a local race in Lake Alfred. I do not remember exactly where I fell but it was early in the race. Instead of getting up, remounting, and crushing the pedals to complete the race, I cool guyed it to the finish line. Guess who was waiting for me there. You’re right, my dad. He put my front tire between his legs and advised me that I had broken one of the rules he set forth: never quit. He told me I was off the bike for two weeks. In a fit of anger, I looked up at him and told him, “fine, I quit!” I had no idea the consequences of those words. I am sure he was heartbroken, but not as badly as I was over the next few weeks when I realized that all the things we had for racing were no longer at our house. I told him I quit so he did not give me the option to take it back. Wow!!, that stung!! Things were not good around the home, in my thoughts, for a good long while. As I stated earlier, this little snafu that I caused has stuck with me for years. I was good, had intentions of trying to be professional, and loved that I got to travel and race. With three words it was over. 

 All was not lost. One night, I am sure I was sulking about something as a typical 13–14-year-old would, my dad came to me for a man to “man” talk. He told me that he would not support me going back into BMX but that he would support me one more time in a different sport. I had played around with tennis and that talk would open another set of doors and opportunities that still positively affects me today. Tennis started simply with lessons from Eric Dove and Robert Hollis. I played locally with antiquated grips and just a hustle to every ball attitude. Those simple days would take me all the way through the 15-21 years. We will talk about them tomorrow. 

I would like to thank my mom for all the photos and memories that she has supplied for this little run through.

From 0 to 49: My Journey in 7 Year Blocks

0 – 7 on the way to 49: A couple of weeks ago I woke up realizing I was turning 49 in less than a month. No, I’m not worried about getting older, I was pumped because I was turning 49 and how cool it was to be a prime number. Oops, about three seconds later I realized that 49 is not a prime number and that neat phenomena wasn’t going to happen until I turn 53. However, the fact that 49 can be divided equally into 7 equal parts of 7 led me to realize that, with some minor overlap, my life has really worked well in the 7-year increments. So, to appease my own curiosity and to cathartically get it out, I decided to write about each of my 7-year segments leading up to turning 49.

Today will be pretty simple. I am going from 0 to 7. I know I was born in the Winter Haven Hospital. That is where it happened back in 1972. Yes, for those of us who have been in and around the Winter Haven area for many years we know that the Regency is where the youth of the area come into existence these days, but many years ago we were born in the same place where the emergencies went, surgeries took place, and where those on the 5th floor hung out. I do not know all the details, nor do I really care, but I know that we lived in Winter Haven, Auburndale, and Lake Alfred. None of that really matters because for an infant there is no recollection. Memories are super hazy, especially at this point in life. Even though these years do not have a lot of lasting memories, there are many things that happened or were happening that have shaped me to this day. My parents were athletes and that was engrained at an early age. I walked, learned how to ride my Evil Knievel bicycle, and gained the hand-eye coordination that was obviously handed down from my mom and dad. There are also a few things that happened at that early age that still matter to me today. The first is my desire for education and learning. My mom was a teacher, and that attitude was put in my brain at an incredibly early age. Learning was something that just was expected, and for sure took place, even at this early age. The second is my love of racing. My dad and granddaddy raced in the SCCA. We drove to the track on Friday and came home late on Sunday. Many times, I would be sleeping on the floorboard of the car, the bed of the Grey Ghost, or some other vehicle to get us to and from the track. I guess the third would be traveling. This goes back to the racing and family trips. To this day I still really do not like being at home. The road is my home. Oh wow, I’m starting to sound like a Metallica song. A fourth thing that occurred at an early age that still sticks with me today is business, probably more about family business. My grandparents owned an aluminum company called Central Florida Aluminum in Lake Alfred and I remember spending many hours in the paneled office and super big warehouse. Oh yeah, it was also the race shop. The last thing, which I have already touched on a little bit was my love for athletics. Little league was a big thing in Lake Alfred. I played baseball, youth soccer in Winter Haven, and rode my bicycle around the neighborhood. All of these shaped me in the years to come.

There were probably some things that also shaped me, although I would not realize it until much later in life. My mom dressed me in completely matching outfits from an incredibly young age. To this day I still have a thing for clothes. I hated walking on the grass as a kid. Currently, I have the softest feet and barely ever walk barefooted. My poor feet just cannot handle it. I do not mind getting dirty to do work but must clean up immediately after because I just cannot handle the grime on me. I like a good party and there was a time when I did not know how to stop when it started. Like many people I love and cherish, the learned behavior can also be changed later in life. Lastly, many people find this a negative, but it has served me well, and caused me much angst throughout the years; take care of yourself and do what makes you happy. Once that is complete, take care of your community by serving it, sponsoring it, and supplying jobs in it. The first part is what causes people, whether that be friends or family, the most trouble.

The first seven years were rather good, what of it I can remember. In the horse world they call this the imprinting time, it does not last as long as it does in humans, but I still have many of the same things inside me today. Tomorrow we go from 8-14! Photo credit goes to Alex Hockett for the baby, Ryan Fields for the building blocks, and Liz Fitch for the MGB

121

Well, tonight the blog is a bit different. More information than opining. I think I will sprinkle in some opinion because I surely cannot get by without doing so. First things first though. Tonight, was the Chamber of Commerce after hours. As much as I hate interacting, I really enjoy the conversations. At some point there will be a big right hook, a Gary Vaynerchuk reference, with the blog tonight. It is funny how it is important to meet the people who can affect your business or dreams in situations that are comfortable to them. Really though, I truly believe that many of the people are as uncomfortable as I am at these events but we all muscle through.

Tonight’s event was hosted by Webber International University and was at their new Alumni Center. It seemed that the turnout was a little light, but it was nice to see some familiar faces from my time at Webber and from some of the business leaders in the Lake Wales area. It was nice to catch up with the bank executive, the insurance boss, the community college center director, the president of a university, the director of alumni, a candidate for the state senate, a few professors, a cool softball player, two professors of accounting, the dean of student life, a Captain in the Sheriff’s Department, and the vice president of institutional effectiveness and research.

Webber was a part of my life for a long period of time. The first time I was on the campus was when I was 12 years old. I have been a part of some great dinners when the school was the mecca for the wealthiest of the wealthy. I have been around when they didn’t mow the grass and there were only 250 students. Tonight, I learned there were over 600 students and when all is said and done they are aiming for 1200. We all need goals. My dad was an integral part of the college for 35 years and I believe the school has shaped many of the traits I carry forward today. I have seen at least three presidents and watched the school transform. Heck, I still have a pair of shorts, some shirts, and a few hats that still have Webber College on the logo. Oh yeah, they are still the warriors but with the hubbub from Native Americans they have even lost the Caloosa Tribe reference and gone with a more Nordic warrior. At least they haven’t complained yet.

If you have made it through the first three paragraphs I will get to the meat of this now. A few months ago, we came into some money from a 50/50 drawing. This winning drew the attention of my mother in law, Ruthie, and she thought it would be great to give some bikes to kids who might really want one and couldn’t afford one. Ken, my father in law, and I thought this was cool. We are a Century 21 franchise, so we thought giving 21 bikes would be a cool thing. Ruthie, who is always thinking bigger, remembered that Century 21 had recently updated their branding and started using the 121% as part of their branding. She thought that we should just go all in and go for 121 bikes for kids in our area. Oh boy, there is nothing like a bit of pressure to make something happen.

Okay, it is early September and of course, we are striving to raise the funding to give 121 bikes to kids in elementary school and middle school who really want a bike but truly cannot afford to get one. We are going to partner with the Lake Wales Police Department and the Polk County Sherriff Department to distribute these bikes to those who deserve them and want them. This is a straight-up request from the community in this area to help us out. We will be giving 121 bikes to kids in this area. If you can help us with this journey, we will give you the credit you deserve. We will honor you on our social media, and let the community know who made this possible. If you want to donate a bike versus the cash that is fine. Walmart will be the store that is handling the bikes and putting them together. Each of the local law enforcement agencies will be handling the distribution of the bikes. We are truly a ragtag group but with the communities’ support or digging deep into our own pockets, 121 kids in the Polk County area will have a new bike to ride around this coming Christmas. If you are interested at all, please call me at 863-326-3009 or email me at treyheath@hotmail.com. Yes, I got that email address when Hotmail started.

Photo by Chris Lawton on Unsplash
Photo by Charl Folscher on Unsplash

Dreaming Just Ain't Execution

Is it just me or do we all have dreams that dangle from our daily thoughts? This past year has caused me to reflect immensely on what I like, what I want to do, and how I want to go about doing them. Don’t get me wrong, some are outlandish and a bit out there, but others are things that, I think, more people than not would also enjoy doing or having. Dreams can be fun, frustrating, or driving. Most of society has them but the execution seems to be the kicker.

This thought stream is personal. I am sure that most people just plow through what they want with no problem and laugh or scoff at those who struggle to reach the finish line of their personal picture. Others will say that the dream isn’t big enough and your why isn’t concrete enough. Well, that sucks. What happens when the dreams dancing around in your head don’t match the why? Is it as simple as: it is your dream and your why and that is all that matters? These are the conundrums that rattle around in my grey matter.
Curiosity is one of the traits that I like best about me. It is also one of my dreams to learn more about people and what makes them who they are. I want to know why they chose the career they did, what makes them tick, passions they may have, flaws they work on, and their reason or reasons why. I don’t feel like I am the only one that has this curiosity about the people around me. Why do I want to do this? Simple; I am curious, and I might learn something to better myself or someone else that I care about. I also want to share what I find with others.
There are some things I need to figure out. Will they be long-form interviews, will it be video, and do I really care if anybody else sees it? There are so many things that excite me about this and in that same breath many that make me incredibly nervous. The dream of doing more comes with the fear of ridicule, being made fun of, not being as good as you think you can be, and then the worst is, what happens if it goes really well?

Putting on the brave face, faking it until you make it, and all the other bullshit phrases are just that. Sucking, practicing, grinding it out, putting in the hard work, and crafting your skills are simply what it takes. Well shoot, that seems easy enough. I did it when I raced BMX and again while playing tennis. For some reason, the work necessary to succeed in sport just hasn’t translated to my dreams in business. Thanks for reading and I hope chasing your dreams comes easier to you than it has for me.
Photo by Hannah Jacobson on Unsplash
Photo by Kira auf der Heide on Unsplash