This is part one of my blog series about my walk this morning.  It is an epic tale of one surprisingly good looking man's quest to defeat the powers of evil.  It is a story that will make grown men weep, and women faint.  It is all true.*  It has been compared by literary experts to be the "Gladiator"** of the 21'st century.  Those who allow their eyes to pass upon the following story will be transported to a magical world of harmony and miracles.*** Reading this will make you physically stronger, be able to see better, and will cure acne.****  

Note: no clowns were harmed in writing this. *****



*Well...mostly true.  In a James Frey kind of way. 

** Some have compared it to "Bio-Dome" as well.

*** In order for this to happen you have to drink an entire bottle of Kendall Jackson wine and a weeks worth of anxiety pills.

**** Not all results are typical.  Some people report having leg tremors, monkey sweats, and loss of life. 

***** That is not by a lack of trying on my part. 



Walking around the lake of Lions Park has become my morning ritual.  It is my sacred "Sweet Johnny Time"* that serves as a few moments of zen that allows me to cleanse my heart of whatever emotional baggage I am carrying from the day before.  The concrete pathway that encircles the semi-polluted body of water is my path to emotional healing.  Granted most of my emotional wounds are considered by most to be superficial.  For example for a few weeks I was carrying a heavy heart because one of my favorites on Big Brother was evicted by the house by a vote of 4-3.  I have also become increasingly concerned by how my beloved Denver Bronco's continue to be unable to stop the run.  Also, recently my heart took a beating when at the movie theater the dude behind the "snack-e-poo" counter remarked that perhaps I should go with the smaller popcorn.  He was right...but still I don't like taking life advice from a chap who had a uni-brow** and three rings in his nose.

*Sweet Johnny Time is protected under copyright laws and is not able to be used by anyone else in the free world except me.  T-shirts, Coffee mugs, and letterhead available at my online store

** In no way am I making light of people who have a uni-brow.  I understand that it is a lifestyle choice for some, that while I disagree with I would never presume to judge the person who carried a unified brow-stache.  I, myself have been battling the thin brown line between both of my furry critters that adorn my noogin....



                                                                          A QUICK TRIBUTE TO THE UNI-BROW!

                                     




I love my morning journey.  I plug my ears into my likely tumor causing ipod and I let senior shuffle be the dj who provides my walk with a beautiful soundtrack.  As I have blogged about in the past this two lap jaunt grants me serenity, and often times newfound insights that I have never had before.  Like just last week I found my brain trying to wrap around why I like caramel so much.  I like caramel the way tigers like breaking out of their cages and eating the zoo keeper.  I was amazed to find how many of my life decisions have been made because of my addiction to it.  Carmel completes me. *  If I could go to the land of sugar and gum drops I would marry Carmel and have little john/caramel babies that could be poured over ice cream.  **

*I would remiss by not acknowledging that my beloved wife and children also complete me.  I can not imagine living without them... or caramel.  I am not picking any favorites here.  I love them all equally.  Although I would admit that caramel does not ask me to mow the lawn or take them to soccer practice.  Hmmmm...

** If you find yourself creeped out by this statement then it is probably because you either:

a) Don't love caramel the way I do and therefore are not human 
b) You think that me crossing the gene-pool to have babies with a dessert topping to be fairly unnatural.  If that is the case than you and I have nothing to say to one another.  Open you're mind people!

This morning my walk began in the typical fashion.  I spend a few moments in quiet reflection as I lean against the wooden railing and stare out onto the duck filled lake.  It is in this moment that I connect with The Lord.  We have a routine dialog about my life*.  Usually it ends with God saying something like "Let's go a whole day without making me cringe...Ok Roedel?"  Then I  respond with a "Um..how do I do that?"  That is followed by the clouds parting and the Heavenly Father saying "Try not talking.."

*Yes, God talks to me.  Not in a scary Jim Jones way...but in a John Denver way.  However, in my case God does not appear as George Burns.  He usually appears to look like Christopher Walkin. **

** Not really...but dang that would be sweet.  I have a completely normal man crush on Walkin.  That is if you define "normal" as digging through the mans trash to find anything that he has ever touched.  I am currently sculpting a model of him out of his previously used straws.   Totally normal....

In my few seconds before I make my Oompa Loompa legs take flight I take in a couple deep breaths and prepare my body for physical excursion.  Now I know that my outward appearance would indicate to you that I have the shape of a marathon runner.  While I understand where that misconception comes from I should admit to you that I maybe am not in as good of shape as my Michael Phelps physique presents.  I am not saying that I am absolutely out of shape,  I just get tired when I have to sit up in bed and have to push the cake plate off the bed.  Sometimes I feel fatigued when I have to raise my voice to ask my wife to quit vacuuming the carpet when I am watching my stories.  As I breathe in and out I give myself some good self-talk that I learned how to do while watching a self-help show on PBS.*  Here is my mantra I use to get myself ready for the walk:

I am a walking monster!
I will not stop for anything!**
I am special in the eyes of nature!***
I am going to walk this path like a Chuck Norris protects Texas!

*I only watched that show because the remote fell of the couch and I couldn't reach it.  I called for the children to help...nobody did.  It was a hard moment that I had to "walk off" the next day.

**I only stop in the case of serious emergency.  Like heavy breathing. (which is kind of often) Roaming bands of squirrels that hunt me from the surrounding woods. (which happens every twenty feet of so...this situation deserves it's own blog)

***This is a bold-faced lie.  Nature hates me.  It wants me to die.  What nature does not know is that I died years ago during my only attempt at stand-up comedy.  Take that stupid nature!!


I took off this morning from the railing with a skip* in my step that I usually don't have.  My feet hit the pavement with a newfound spirit that I can only attribute to the beautiful fall air that was flooding my lungs.  The dying summer could be felt with every footstep!  The trees have started to drop their arrogantly green shade and the bugs have seemed to all recognize that the seasonal apocalypse was nearing.  As I approached the quarter mark of the walk I felt great.  I recall thinking that it was wonderful to be alive at this exact moment in time.   Under this cool sun, and with the music of Band of Horse's embracing my sound with their melodic sounds all was right with the world.  Everything was as perfect as it could be...until the lady in the red hat came.

*I use the word "skip" here only because I am lazy to look up another one.  I do not mean to imply that I was "skipping" like some feminine character from Little House on The Prairie who was carrying a basket of lilies for her "ma". 

To be continued.....