Here is the breathtaking conclusion to the groundbreaking blog series that involved my walking battle against a geriatric woman a couple months ago.

If you have not read the previous entries then you are probably don't like America, kittens, American Kittens, or a guy name John who accidentally coughed all over their third grade girlfriend...a cough that ended that relationship with a shower of spittle and mucus.

If you are wondering why you should catch up and read the other parts of the blog series please take a moment and take the word of other people who may have read it:


"Roedel has crafted a blog series that will stand the test of time.  This is the most incredible thing I have read since I last put down The Bible.  This author has captivated me with his use of words, sentences,  a grade school like liberal grammar/punctuation/spelling policy, and his demand that the reader find a reason to care about the story.  He is amazing.  He is also holding me hostage, and is forcing me to write this, Please contact the-" 
- A undisclosed writer for USA Today.


"I have no idea what a blog is.  Just don't get arrested.  Or become a witch. " - John's mom.


"I wish John would spend the time he does writing this on things like employment, grooming, and finding his cell phone"  - Jenni Roedel



"Daddy...why are you waking me up?"  - John's kids.


"Like me, John is guilty of a crime.  His crime is writing an emotional blog series about walking.  Which is a way different than my crime.  A lot different." - Michael Vick.


See.  People can't quit talking about it.  It is a story that has changed the way an entire generation feels about one mans attempt to not let an older woman pass him as they walk around a lake. It is a story of struggle, then hope, then more struggle, which is followed by periods of little hope, and then a sprinkle or two of cautious hope is dashed on top of dramatic seasoning.  In many ways this tale is a lot like "Dances without Wolves".  Minus the wolves...and dancing...Native American spirituality, plot lines, characters that people invest emotionally in. 

Otherwise the story is the same.

Without any more delay I am proud to present with limited commercial interruption the final installment of "A Walk In The Park"  - sponsored by Heinze 57 Steak Sauce. 

If you need to catch up here are the other chapters:

Chapter one


Chapter two


Chapter three


Chapter four



Chapter five









No matter how we kid ourselves in to believing anything differently there is only two outcomes when you go to battle against a foe..  You either win, or you lose.  In war there is no such thing as a moral victory.  While in the midst of the fight of your life the idea of a "Good Try" does not exist.  You either come out the victor or you end up eating a bowl of shame cereal that is covered in the milk of embarrassment, and the only spoon you have is one that is formed out of broken dreams.

With only around 50 feet left before my lap around the park ended I knew that I was faced with that decision.  Win or go home an explain to the man in the mirror why he could not out walk an extra from "Cocoon".  This was it.  It was go time.

As we approached the end of the race me and the Lady in the red hat were marching in lockstep with one another.  Our feet grinded against the hard pavement in rhythm with one another.  Out of my corner vision I could not see that either one of us had the advantage over the other.  Even though our bodies were only separated by only a foot or two neither of us wanted to make eye contact with one another.  Sure we were racing each other, but even at the time I found away to acknowledge that we were probably racing against other things as well.  While I was racing to maintain my dignity, she was probably racing to show Father Time that she still has a great deal of life within her.  While I was racing the demons of my athletic past, she was probably racing for bragging rights at the next bingo game.  Each of us had a reason to out walk the other...and neither of us were backing down.

A few seconds later I noticed that she had pulled ahead by a small margin from me.   Grandma Walky was not going to back down... I could feel defeat set in like a flash flood on my soul.

I was getting regular status reports from the remaining functional body parts that could still respond.  The Feet were reporting sharp pains and angry toes.  My legs sent an update that they believed they could make it to the end of the lap, but after that I may have to use my elbows to drag myself to the car.  The bladder had sent a cryptic message that indicated that had entered the dreaded "optional mode".  My chest reported that my heart was near super nova status, and my lungs had begun to organize a union for a possible strike.  In short, my body was breaking down.  Every ounce of my Gary Coleman frame ached like I was 14 months pregnant. 

I wanted to quit.  

I wanted to collapse my body into the greenish lake water that stretched around the walking path.  Maybe in the murky toxic water I would be baptized in an acceptance of failure.  Perhaps giving up and accepting my weakness would allow me to reach rock bottom...which is not a bad place to be.  The only place to go would be up after losing the walk to the very elderly woman.  As my body slowed up I started to feel "ok" with not being the winner of the race.  After all I still had other things I was good at.  Like my gift of putting a perfect amount of relish on a hot dog, or how I am awesome at managing my DVR to ensure that any program with Hugh Grant in it gets taped.

I could not go on any longer at this pace.  Even with only twenty five feet to go....

With a numb sense of failure my brain sent the message to the body that it was ok to start to slow down.

Then it happened. I am not sure how I can explain it other than it was a miracle.

The miracle came wrapped in one sound...

"ACHOOO!"  The older woman shouted.

She had sneezed!  This sneeze was no ordinary one either.  It must have been one she had been holding off for a while because when it erupted from her it came out with force.  The sneeze was so large it caused her to stop for a moment and gather her breath. This unfortunate sneeze of hers caused me to bolt ahead of her and suddenly the aching parts of my body began to feel no pain.

Even though she started walking just a half second after her episode I had the clear advantage with only ten steps left.  I had a new found hop in my step...suddenly being the front-runner gave me a fresh wind.  With only a few steps left I went into full on power walk mode.  I kicked my rear out further behind me, while pushing my elbows to my sides in an exaggerated manner.  I am certain from a distance it appeared that I was attempting to do the "Funky Chicken".  Like a broken-nosed prize fighter I did not care how I looked.  The only thing I knew was that i was going to win.  I heard her breath from a few steps behind me get raspy as she tried to make a final push to catch me at the wire.

TOO LATE!! 

I WON!!!!!!

I had defeated my aggressive albeit ancient challenger.  I took a couple steps after the line that marked the end of my lap and raised my hands over my sweaty heaving body in attempt to catch my breath.  My entire frame shock with agony and fatigue but I was able to wash those negative feelings away with the knowledge that I had slain the dragon who was attempting to steal my macho.  I felt so much joy in that moment.  For the first time in a long time I felt good about my health, fitness level, and hopeful about my future. I knew that my competitor probably felt broken hearted for losing, so I decided to turn around and give her kudos for pushing me so hard.

Before I could turn around to give her a wink of aknowledgement she pushed right past me.  She was still walking!  Didn't she know the race was over??  At first I felt pity for her....and then I had a sudden feeling of sickness in my tummy.

"Still walking?"  I called out to the lady.

"While still walking she turned her head to her side and with a smile called out "Yep.  I always do two laps.  Still got one to go!"


Two laps?????

Who does two laps????

Why would she do two laps???

As I laid down on the green wire bench that overlooked the lake I saw the old woman power walk away with her rear out and elbows jetted out.  I had won the lap...but she had won the race.





I hate walking.