Quixotic

One fine day, an old friend of mine decided he wanted to lose weight.

Actually, the way he put it to me was: --I'm FAT! (Although he isn't.)

I think he also decided he was pissed off at blood cancers, since it looks like they're kind of chasing after his friends and family.

So instead of going on some run-of-the-mill diet and/or exercise plan, he decided to join a group that trains people for marathon events as a conduit for raising funds to battle these cancers. It's called Team in Training. They run around in big long circles and dash by on bikes and stuff.

I learned about this novel approach to weight loss when - by snail mail, taking me back - he sent around the funniest call for donations that I've ever read in my life.

Which kind of figures. He's a funny guy. He's funny for a living. And makes a living at it, which usually doesn't happen that way.

So I'm sitting there in one of the financially challenged phases of my life, watching time go by, wishing I had $10 to send them. Plotting and scheming to put the touch on the neighbors. Wondering how he's doing, considering how the entire world has donor fatigue after the 2004 Florida hurricanes and the tsunami and such.

And not long after I got that letter, Katrina came.

And then a Pakistan earthquake that killed a huge number of people.

Then Wilma.

These things surely affected Team in Training's ability to fundraise for its more steady sort of plight. Cancer is all about being vicious and relentless. Natural disasters have a very different life cycle. A different donor response, too. When we see so very many people suffering so badly, and so suddenly, we tend to empty our pockets to help. It's a good thing. But it may not leave much for donating to other worthy but more day-to-day needs.

I started to notice that long ago, when my friend and I developed a habit of calling each other with Disaster News & Announcements when disasters occurred in our neighborhoods. We'd do this no matter how pressed for time, or for long-distance phone call money, we were.

So I wondered how he'd deal with the donor fatigue issue. I mean, continuing on such a drive after Katrina struck me as a bit quixotic. Charmingly so, yes. Maybe hopelessly so, too.

But no.

Being who he is, he goes blithely on, not changing course one whit.

He's been doing all these practice runs, getting geared up for a big old marathon run in Hawaii. Don't worry. He's buying his own ticket. Plus he's running there, but not TO there, he's definitely flying over on a plane like a normal person. (Straightened that out with his wife, I did.)

As luck would have it, our worst financial surprises are behind us - just for this paycheck I mean, don't want to tempt fate here!!! - medical events like anaphylactic shock and a brown recluse spider bite, plus hurricanes eating the house, you know the drill. Suddenly, with that marathon fast approaching, it's this Saturday so time's running out - suddenly, oh finally, I have that $10 I can spare on hand.

I sent it in. Just now. Here's the link: http://www.active.com/donations/fundraise_public.cfm?key=tntglaJMcCann

Oh happy day!

This guy who's worked so hard, against such odds, to make his goal has earned it.

Earned it. It's not like he's just asking for donations here. Guy's sweating his butt off, cheerfully keeping on, and courteously ignoring any hint of difficulty presented by too many innocent people needing too much help just now. It's not that he didn't notice, I'm sure. He doesn't miss much. He just chooses to keep on keepin' on.

So I hope you'll send something too.