David Freeze

By David Freeze

    I grew up idolizing my hero, New York Yankees baseball star, Mickey Mantle. Living on a small rural dairy farm, I really had to work to find someone to play ball with. My brother and sister didn’t care for sports much and still don’t. I couldn’t get enough of football or basketball, but baseball had that special appeal. At that time, I think baseball was truly America’s game. To me, it still is.

     Baseball on TV was rare then but sometimes I could get a game on the radio while sitting on the front porch swing during nice summer nights. We didn’t have air conditioning at home, so the cool night air was often a relief from a warm house. Just me and my small radio, searching for any game but especially grateful on the nights that the proper atmosphere allowed reception of a station carrying Yankees baseball.

     I had a cousin who often visited who loved the game as much as me. We could sometimes get my brother to play baseball games with us. I can never remember more than the three of us at home playing.

     Most fun of all was little league baseball that we played in Landis. I played on the Lions and my brother, along with our nearest neighbor, played on the Firemen. Our parents often shared the rides for the three of us to practices and games. There were only four teams in our league and we played twice a week.

     I remember my first time at the old Landis ballpark, originally used for semi-pro and high school baseball. The covered wooden stands and the field itself both seemed huge, especially to a small 11 year old boy. We had a team shirt, which I still have, and a ball cap. That shirt lasted a long time. Those games were more than 50 years ago.

      Another thing that lasted a long time were the baseballs. I remember how special we felt to ever see a new baseball. The pictures I have seen of early 1900’s major league players never included a new white baseball. All our practices were done with old balls, some of them heavy from getting wet previously. Those were also the days of the good little league teams only having three or four wooden bats. Yes, wooden bats just like the major league players used. Old balls and well-worn bats simply were baseball back then.

       Most games began with a new ball and a good used one as backup. We just needed enough balls as a team to warm up with. Should one of the game balls get lost, the home team had to put in play one of their best warmup balls. Someone was always sent to look for a lost game ball on the very big field at Landis. And they kept looking until the ball was found.

      My point here is that game balls were often used for a long time and could on occasion begin to show damage. First signs would be scuffs and occasionally the stitching began to break. Little red threads made those stitches and one break usually led to another. Still we played on unless the cover did actually begin to come loose. Each time the ball was hit hard, the cover would continue to unravel. The horsehide started to flap but only on the rare occasion could someone hit the ball so hard the cover actually came off. Usually a mammoth clout finished off the ball and another one from the warm- up bag replaced it. No one complained and we all thought losing the coverless ball was just a part of the game. But the mammoth clout wasn’t that common and took special effort.

      But how about that baseball, the one with the cover knocked off? Roy Hobbs, in the movie, The Natural, hit it so hard and well that the ball unraveled on the way to the outfield. In our life, should we always try our hardest for the things we believe in. The term, “Knock the cover off the ball”, today means going hard, giving our best and just simply making the best effort we can for the intended result. How we can go wrong when doing that?

    Do your best on your walk of faith. If God tells you to do something, work hard and do your best. God will do all the things you can’t do.

     Know ye not that they which run in a race run all, but one receiveth the prize? So run, that ye may obtain. 1 Corinthians 9:24-25.

By David Freeze

     There have been a few times over the years that I have been embarrassed enough to want to find a big hole and crawl in it. This Thanksgiving Day, I was able to watch the end of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Parade from New York City. One of the feature bands for the whole parade was the Western Carolina University Pride of the Mountains Band.

     Founded in 1938 with just 23 students, the band now has about 500 participants. They have a giant sound and amazing choreography when performing on the football field. Students have to apply for acceptance into the probably the top college band in North Carolina.

     Back in 1971, I was pushing hard for acceptance to the United States Military Academy at West Point. A lot of the early hurdles were complete, including all the academics and mental testing. Left to go in the early spring was a week’s worth of physical conditioning and medical testing. I went with two other prospective students, one from Rowan and one from Cabarrus, to Womack Army Hospital at Fort Bragg. I was diagnosed with a heart murmur on the second day and was immediately washed out of the program.

    With just a few months until high school graduation, I quickly applied to WCU and got in. Because I had played in the band at South Rowan High School and greatly enjoyed the experience, I decided to apply for the WCU band. I was accepted for that too.

    In early summer, I was notified that the band students had to report to school about 10 days early in preparation for the early football season performances. As a freshman drummer, or a part of the percussion department, I was in way over my head. I found out that the band was huge and filled with strong musicians, most of them accomplished music majors. Music majors had to practice for hours and then work in band practices too. Those band practices usually took half a day during that first ten days and at least two hours a day once school was in session.

     A lot was expected of the band members and learning the planned choreography was especially challenging. There was a new program each week to learn, usually only lasting about seven minutes when performed.

     As a meek freshman, I was committed to the program and would receive classroom credit for it. As the youngest percussion member, I was given the cymbals to play. Expected to make the perfect cymbal clangs at the right time, I worried more about screwing up my left and right, backwards and forward marching.

     The band went to East Tennessee State in Johnson City, far enough away that we would spend the night after the game. We were told the game was being televised, my first ever such experience. Still, I was excited to be a part of such a high performing band.

     Once arriving at the stadium, we did a walk through of the program and then about 200 band members went to the motel to dress for the game. Sleeping four to a room, I was fortunate to be sharing the space with one good friend and two others that I knew.

     Back at the game, everyone anticipated the halftime performance of the best band around. I was a little nervous but not overly so. With the performance finally underway, I stayed on track until……, I turned the wrong way and immediately stood out like the worst swollen sore thumb!

     Once the program finished and the band back in the stands, the band director (I will never forget his name but won’t use it here) immediately called attention to my error. He said, “Where is Mr. Freeze? Let’s hear it for Mr. Freeze turning the wrong way!” Immediately the whole band said, “Duhhh!”

     For the rest of the game, the evening at the motel and the long ride home, only the one good friend spoke to me. Those errors simply were not made in that program. It seemed as if no one forgot for the rest of the football season, at which time my experience with the WCU band was complete.

    Embarrassed tremendously, I never turned the wrong way again and the bad memory faded. When I look back on it now, I’m at least smiling inwardly. What I thought at the time was the worst possible experience, was certainly not. And probably long forgotten by everybody but me.

    I raised my head, owned my mistake, learned from the experience and moved forward. Just one of many times over the years.

By Deirdre Parker Smith

deirdre.smith@salisburypost.com

David Freeze is nothing if not determined, and persistent.

Since his first long-distance bicycle trip in 2013, he has chased his passion for seeing the 50 states from the seat of one bike or another.

His most recent trek, from Nevada to Alaska, was quite the adventure.

Read more at the Salisbury Post here

By David Freeze

   The most unusual “outrage” came last week over a stationary bicycle commercial. Outrage is one of those words that I hate to hear, especially since it is so overused amid political comments recently. Retiring the word would suit me just fine.

   Here’s what happened. I saw the commercial depicting a husband who gave his wife one of the finest stationary bikes available on the market. Peloton is the brand name and that word too made all kinds of media for the next few days. One report said that the video had over 700,000 comments within a few days and the actor playing the dad was often ridiculed. After all, did people forget that he was an actor playing a role?

     The thought of a husband giving his wife an exercise bike riled the women of The View and Jenna Bush Hager told Hoda Kotb, “My husband better not ever give me a gift like that!” Another word, sexist, was often used to denigrate the commercial.

     Why not give the gift of possibly the best home stationary bike in the world, one that can quickly connect the rider to an online spin cycling class at will? The gift of exercise, not the gift to shame a seemingly normal body size mother as suggested by so many on TV. I polled a few of my exercise clients and some other long time runners and they all agreed. Include me in joining the long list of folks who would love to receive this specific Peloton bike. I have often thought of how cool it would be to have a high quality bike like this upstairs to use whenever I wanted, just as the mom in the commercial could now do. Spin classes are often filled to capacity at local gyms, usually on bikes not as high quality and realistic as this one. One other commercial for a similar bike shows a woman pushing herself hard while watching a winter snowstorm falling outside her window.

      Why does this matter so much to me? How could that gift give back many times over to the wife, husband and the rest of his family? Well past my best efforts on the sports fields and the roads of running, I am old enough now to appreciate good health. I remember my own story from years ago of wanting to get healthier with an idea of looking ahead to a long life with my loved ones. I was successful and one of the major tools along the way was a form of cycling, both stationary and road.

      As the days of the week went by, the opinion somewhat shifted away from all the “outrage” to one of understanding and support. Here is exactly why I agree with that shift. I have said it often and will continue to say this for the rest of my life. The one single biggest gift we can give to others is the gift of our time. It doesn’t have to cost anything and can take many forms.

     As an example, I love it when my daughters come to visit, and we can just talk with no other pressures or expectations. I would rather do that than go out for the nicest meal available or some type of entertainment. And friends too, old and new, I am going to make the gift of time for them just as I hope they will.

     Now back to the guy who gave the Peloton bike for Christmas. My first thought when seeing the commercial was that the actor portrayed a young husband who gave a gift from the heart, one that his wife could use at home. Simply in hopes that his wife would enjoy herself and also be around to have lots of time with him and their family. What could be better than that?  

By David Freeze

  I read the other day that statistically there is more documented depression now than ever before. While I’m sure that comfort and the better things in life are more abundant than ever, it takes more than that to be happy with oneself. I don’t have a related degree, but I do have training and years of experience working with people who have a common thread running between them. They say, “I want to feel better about myself. How can you help me?”

    With that said, I often hear from people who spend at least 30 minutes a day exercising and then report a positive feeling that lasts all day. One of my best friends called exercise “the best mental therapy that money doesn’t have to buy” and she is absolutely right!

   While I start my day very early most mornings with a run of at least 45 minutes and five or more miles, I know that the resulting feeling is unbeatable. But my personal training clients and group class participants began to experience the same feeling when they go out and raise the heart rate for even as little as 20 minutes. While slightly more is better, just that simple beginning gets the ball rolling.

     I certainly don’t mean that you must run to have the mental benefits. Just begin by going for a walk at a comfortable distance. Not a very slow stroll, but one that makes your heart beat faster and challenges your cardiovascular and respiratory systems. Pump your arms! In other words, raising your heart rate and number of respirations is the key to starting the “good feeling”.

     As an example, that first day’s walk might be a quarter mile, or it might be just up and down the driveway a few times. Do what you can do. No matter the age, I am convinced that you can feel better by exercise. The next day, add more and keep doing it again almost daily. Find the challenging distance and pace, meaning that you aren’t overdoing the effort but pushing yourself just enough to do more than you thought possible.

    Years ago, I was gaining weight around my middle and found that I didn’t like it. I didn’t consider anything other than the fact that I needed to exercise more. I did plenty of walking at work and a good bit of lifting, but that kind of exercise was not sustained. I began to run just about every day and it didn’t take long to find that I loved the post-exercise feeling. I began to look forward to more of that post-exercise feeling as much as I did the actual exercise and other positive results.

     At that time, my runs were done in the evening. I had a young family at home and worked in Charlotte and the evening was a better time. Just 30 minutes of exercise began to leave me with a confident, yet relaxed euphoria until bedtime. My sleep came easier because my mind was relaxed and happy.

     Shortly afterwards, I craved the exercise so much that found a way to do it almost every day at lunchtime in Charlotte. I floated through the afternoons with easy problem solving because of increased mental focus and the lingering confidence.

     About six months into my exercise program, I shifted to mornings as often as possible. I wanted that confidence and top of the world feeling to begin early and last all day. My overall health continued to improve, and the excess weight disappeared.

    On the unusual day that I couldn’t at least go for a long walk, I missed something and felt off. To this day, 40 years later, nothing about that has changed. Even serious life trials are helped by the result of regular exercise.

     Bottom line, give it a shot. If you feel depressed or even just a little off, go for a walk, a run, find an exercise class that you like or just follow an aerobics program on TV. Let me know if you don’t find the same result I did. Kick that depression out the door and enjoy the health benefits!

By David Freeze

    Life has been wonderful for me the last few years. I have often heard others say things like, “You are just living a dream!” While spending long hours on a bicycle traveling for days at a time might seem like a lot of work to most people, I value the ability do so as a tremendous blessing.

    Isn’t life most rewarding when we have lots of “Wow” moments and realize that the circumstances that put us in the right place to experience those moments are blessings? One of those “Wow” moments happened for me on Sunday, October 28, at about noon. It had nothing to do with a bicycle.

    My daughter, Amber, and her husband, Jamie, had been expecting their first baby. Conceiving the pregnancy had required the invitro process and a wait to see if the harvested eggs would be acceptable. They were, but Amber’s various health problems along the way kept the pregnancy in doubt.

     Doctors and parents picked the date of October 29^th for a scheduled C-section. The pregnancy was considered a geriatric pregnancy since Amber is past 35, a term that makes her sound old. Usually she is the liveliest and most upbeat person in a room, but the pregnancy worried her. It worried the rest of the family too, but I have found that the power of prayer was so dramatic that I had to ask for God’s help on this. Each and every night, I asked for His care and peace as the time for the birth approached.

     On Saturday evening, I had just returned to the house from some farm work. Amber called and I thought upon seeing her name that this was very unusual timing and immediately wondered if everything was alright. She and Jamie had become concerned with various things during the day and the doctor asked them to come to the hospital. The surgery and birth were going to happen between 10pm and 1am that evening.

     Amber’s mother and sister, along with their husbands, were on the way to the hospital, so I elected to wait until Sunday to visit. With Amber’s blessing, I hoped to see the new family and my first grandchild after everyone else had gone home.

     After church, the short drive to Presbyterian Hospital, and a longer search for the right place to park, I finally found the correct building and floor. A short stop at security for a visitor badge didn’t take long, just ahead of getting directions at the nurses’ station.

    I walked into room 822, and within one minute was holding my new granddaughter. Her name is Monroe James Bishop and she seemed just about perfect. Time didn’t matter and all seemed just as it should be. Both parents were sleep deprived and overwhelmed but were doing great. And so was Monroe, although she slept most of the time. I did so those bright blue eyes a few times, just the same as her granddad’s.

    I’ve been blessed with the most precious gift. One of these days, I will tell her about how prayer matters and share some memories. But for now, I’ll just work to be the best example of a good dad and granddad. I truly believe that is what God wants and deserves. So today, I ask for your prayers that help me do this. Thank you, God, for this new baby and every blessing you provide!

By David Freeze

  I teach regular classes in wellness, both for groups and individuals. One thing that I enjoy doing most is a group class for those who aspire to be runners. These classes are taught several times a year and the series always lasts eight weeks. We have a classroom session one night a week and follow that with a run. The classroom sessions are enjoyable and cover topics like nutrition, stretching and strengthening, form, injury prevention and safety. The runs increase in distance each week from a half mile to 3.1 miles on the last evening. Class members run three other nights a week on their own.

   Last spring, I got an email from a lady named Robin who asked about the next class. Robin said, “I need to lose weight and get in shape!” I told her that we had one in progress with three weeks to go but wouldn’t have another until early September. I did invite Robin to come join us free of charge for the last three weeks and then retake the class in September.

    It isn’t unusual to get these calls, and about a third of those who call don’t show up. In my current class, another woman contacted me three times about the class, two of those with excuses for missing the first two meetings. She never showed up.

     Back to Robin, she did show up back during the spring and mixed in a lot of walk/running while the others who were much fitter by that time finished well ahead of her. But the truth was that Robin had stepped way out of her comfort zone to start this process. Always pleasant and encouraging to the others, Robin had only to decide whether she would come back in the fall to do it all the right way.

     With the start of the new class, we were mired in the late summer heat wave that lingered for weeks and just recently broke. Heat is the hardest thing on new runners and many of the experienced ones too. Robin had seemed sincere, but I gave her only a 50/50 chance of showing up again and sticking out the eight weeks.

      Today is October 13^th, and with a bump in the road, Robin is about to complete her seventh week in the class. Last week, she completed 2 ½ miles of running without stopping. This week, she will do it again and next week, Robin will complete her first 5K (3.1 miles). I have no doubt she will finish the class because everyone who makes it this far does.

     That speed bump threatened to end her effort. Things were fine after week one. At the start of week two, Robin took off running way too fast on her one mile run. She faded fast and struggled to finish. Week three, she wanted to quit. Robin sent me a message and said she wasn’t coming. Her therapist said running was causing her too much anxiety.

    I disagreed and told her so. She needed regular exercise for many reasons. The anxiety would go away and her confidence would build after each new distance conquered. Robin agreed to resume her effort. She came back ready to work, believing her goal of 3.1 miles was just ahead.

    Just last week, on a beautiful night in downtown Salisbury, Robin cruised through 2 ½ miles. She’ll do it again this week and then complete her first 5K on Thursday, October 24^th.

    My point is that we all have to believe in ourselves. Believe and go for what we want to achieve. Great things are done by people who believe they will!

By David Freeze

  I teach regular classes in wellness, both for groups and individuals. One thing that I enjoy doing most is a group class for those who aspire to be runners. These classes are taught several times a year and the series always lasts eight weeks. We have a classroom session one night a week and follow that with a run. The classroom sessions are enjoyable and cover topics like nutrition, stretching and strengthening, form, injury prevention and safety. The runs increase in distance each week from a half mile to 3.1 miles on the last evening. Class members run three other nights a week on their own.

   Last spring, I got an email from a lady named Robin who asked about the next class. Robin said, “I need to lose weight and get in shape!” I told her that we had one in progress with three weeks to go but wouldn’t have another until early September. I did invite Robin to come join us free of charge for the last three weeks and then retake the class in September.

    It isn’t unusual to get these calls, and about a third of those who call don’t show up. In my current class, another woman contacted me three times about the class, two of those with excuses for missing the first two meetings. She never showed up.

     Back to Robin, she did show up back during the spring and mixed in a lot of walk/running while the others who were much fitter by that time finished well ahead of her. But the truth was that Robin had stepped way out of her comfort zone to start this process. Always pleasant and encouraging to the others, Robin had only to decide whether she would come back in the fall to do it all the right way.

     With the start of the new class, we were mired in the late summer heat wave that lingered for weeks and just recently broke. Heat is the hardest thing on new runners and many of the experienced ones too. Robin had seemed sincere, but I gave her only a 50/50 chance of showing up again and sticking out the eight weeks.

      Today is October 13^th, and with a bump in the road, Robin is about to complete her seventh week in the class. Last week, she completed 2 ½ miles of running without stopping. This week, she will do it again and next week, Robin will complete her first 5K (3.1 miles). I have no doubt she will finish the class because everyone who makes it this far does.

     That speed bump threatened to end her effort. Things were fine after week one. At the start of week two, Robin took off running way too fast on her one mile run. She faded fast and struggled to finish. Week three, she wanted to quit. Robin sent me a message and said she wasn’t coming. Her therapist said running was causing her too much anxiety.

    I disagreed and told her so. She needed regular exercise for many reasons. The anxiety would go away and her confidence would build after each new distance conquered. Robin agreed to resume her effort. She came back ready to work, believing her goal of 3.1 miles was just ahead.

    Just last week, on a beautiful night in downtown Salisbury, Robin cruised through 2 ½ miles. She’ll do it again this week and then complete her first 5K on Thursday, October 24^th.

    My point is that we all have to believe in ourselves. Believe and go for what we want to achieve. Great things are done by people who believe they will!

By David Freeze

   My primary task following one of my cycling adventures is to complete the accompanying book. I find writing and editing the latest book to be much harder than cycling the journey.  The draft of my Alaska book and most of the edits were completed a week ago and I needed to do the final read through while totally focused. I decided to go to the beach alone, get the final edit done and take some time to relax.

    I had not been to the South Carolina beaches in four years, and the last time was on my cycling adventure from Maine to Key West. This time, I had an amazing schedule assist that included no events for a weekend. That almost never happens. I left Saturday morning with a place to stay at the south end of Myrtle Beach. For years, that was my favorite beach for several reasons. My family loved the Springmaid Beach complex, I had discounted rates there and the kids had an onsite pool and putt-putt, plus a family cafeteria.

     This time, I went alone and was surprised to see that Hilton Doubletree owns that complex and the family things are all gone. I did get a room close by and explored the old Air Force base where I loved to run. The military things are mostly gone, and condominiums and shops have replaced them. The airport is commercial now. I also did a six mile loop on the streets next to the beach.

     While no longer a military base, occasional military jets and transport planes still took off and climbed over the ocean, a great sight to see and its maybe a better place to run now.  

    Other things are gone too. Long time DJ Ted Bell isn’t on 94.9, the Surf, my favorite beach music station. He passed away last year of brain cancer. The old Wings stores are named other things. The Springmaid Pier was destroyed in a storm and is being rebuilt.

      I had no real plan on how long to stay in that area, so I went to North Myrtle Beach for a couple of days. It had been even longer since I spent any time there. I noticed lots more high-rise motels and condos but still plenty of the old buildings and small houses too.

     While at the beach, I love to walk too. Any time suits me fine. On the first morning at Cherry Grove, I ran six miles and immediately changed shorts, grabbed my radio and walked about three miles on the beach while listening to Christian music. I couldn’t wait to do it again.

      On the second morning, I ran five and then immediately walked four, again with the praise music and some old hymns in my ears. The sunrises were beautiful and so was the weather on both mornings. I felt so close to God and didn’t want it to end.

      Also amazing were the early morning people. Runners ran and walkers walked as the sun came up. Time and again, people were greeting each other with pleasant “Good mornings!” and “Hi’s!” Those that didn’t speak often waved and many did both. I was with my people.

     Back home now, I won’t be able to do my walk with Christian music every morning, but some days will work. For the longest time, my devotions have been an evening thing. I can see that shift to mornings on most days coming soon. Another trip to the beach and more morning walks is just a few weeks away. Morning reflection, devotions and anticipation for the day make a wonderful mix!

By David Freeze

    One of my favorite stories, often recounted for motivation of my fitness and wellness clients, happened about 40 years ago. I heard the other day about a book that had all the references to can’t and negativity cut out of it. Not much was left of the book. Here’s a story of nearly all positives. I hope you enjoy it.

     Back in 1979, I had the occasion to watch the New York City Marathon on TV. It wasn’t intended, but that TV show went a long way toward changing my life for the next 40 years. My wife at the time and I had a bad habit. She worked at Revco Drug, the forerunner to CVS of today. A couple of times a week, one of her responsibilities was to clear the out of date candy from the store. She didn’t throw it away and usually brought it home. On those days, I couldn’t wait to dig into the candy bag. We sat around and ate until we both fell asleep in our chairs, having developed a regular pattern.

    While that sounds very bad, we were both athletes. I was playing up to 100 games of softball every summer and in a basketball league during the winter. She was an outstanding shortstop for her women’s softball team. We both gained weight and soon I had an extra 30 pounds going that I didn’t like.

    We watched that marathon together and loved ABC’s coverage of 15,000 runners in the streets and boroughs of the greatest city in the world. I don’t remember much about the winners, but I do remember what they said about the training required to complete 26.2 miles. I was mesmerized and didn’t miss any of the four hours of coverage.

      At the end, we both were sitting on the couch and I said, “I think I would like to do that, run the New York City Marathon.” My wife said, “There is no way that you could ever do anything like that!” She started laughing and rolled off the couch to emphasize how funny she though the idea was. Nothing more was said.

     That night, for the first time in my life, I ran a mile because I wanted to. It was horrid and I struggled in my Converse basketball shoes. But I finished the mile, and somehow managed to make myself climb three steps into the house. I was worn out and certainly didn’t like the experience.

    The next night, I did it again. Running that second mile was just a tad easier. Two weeks later, I ran a 5K (3.1 miles) and promised God if he would just let me finish, I wouldn’t try it again. The last uphill mile was torture.

    But I lied, a few weeks later, I ran an 8K (4.97 miles) and finished 49^th out of 50 runners. Again, miserable would have been too nice of a word. I was not very good at this running thing, but my weight was starting to fall, and I felt more alert. I stopped eating the candy and soon it was given to others at the store. No more of those bags of chocolate came home.

     You have probably guessed by now, but I kept training. I ran to my softball games and ran during weekend tournaments between games. I was hooked.

     When April rolled around, I secretly applied to get in the New York City Marathon. After acceptance into the event (about a third of applicants got in), serious training to complete 26.2 miles began. Still not sure that I could run the distance, I kept quiet for a time.

       Training went well and when the 1980 New York City Marathon cannon blast started the runners, I was in the field. A long 26.2 miles later, I crossed the finish line in Central Park to complete my first marathon, one year from the day that I set a goal. My wife was there and saw my finish.

     Goals are meant to be challenging, yet reachable. Dreams go well with goals. Set yours today.