Exotic life stories and the art of listening

Button down - Hard to resist a Benjamin Button reference when writing about 84-year-old runner John Button, who seems to win his age group every time he steps to the starting line. I spoke to John after he ran 38:14 at the JJ 5K in Rehoboth July 24, saying, “I’m sure you have an interesting story to tell; otherwise, what the heck have you been doing the last 84 years?” John smiled, he was a step ahead of me, just like he is ahead of his peers in a race, and he has an amusing story of a long life beginning with his retirement from AT&T at age 57 with a host of heart-related problems. “I didn’t think I was going to live that long, so I bought a sailboat, a 46-foot ketch, then later a 55-foot sloop. I lived on a boat the next 21 years and crossed the Atlantic back and forth twice.” I knew what was coming next. Just like most 5K runners will eventually drop the word marathon, sailors of open water will drop a “sailed around the world” story, but because John is 84 and I’m 70, I thought he said, “one and a half times” which begs the question, “Where’s the boat now?” “I was tied up in Turkey when I purchased a lot in Herring Creek four years ago,” John said. John wins again, start a sentence with “I was tied up in Turkey,” you win the exotic life story contest.

Hyphenated couple - Alain Nana-Sinkam, 45, and his wife Meaghan Nana-Sinkam, 44, both weighed in before Sunday’s 5K. Alain (French spelling of Alan), a Clydesdale, and Meaghan, a Filly at 5-foot-8 and somewhere near 150 pounds, dashed to the finish line in hyphenated closeness, with Meaghan getting the nod in 33:19 a second ahead of her 6-foot-6, beyond 226-pound husband in 33:20. There was no love lost: “That’s the first time I’ve beaten him,” Meaghan said. Alain was born in Cameroon before spending his childhood in Morocco then coming to the States where he worked as a reporter for the News Journal before breaking free to sell Cadillacs. He now works as an automotive consultant and actually knows the difference between a Maserati and a Lamborghini. “I don’t run to keep in shape; for that, I play basketball with the young guys,” he said. “What you lose in quickness you compensate for with intelligence.” And that’s how I roll as well, I’d try to sound exotic, dropping North Philly row house culture, but sail around the world Button and Cameroon-Morocco man Nana-Sinkam make me as colorful as a subway car turned into a diner (There is one on North Broad Street and it is way cool).    

Deep-fried big guys - There were 10 weight categories combining Clydesdales and Fillies at Sunday morning’s JJ 5K, with the top weight class for men being 226 and above. That doesn’t get you through the door at the Lineman for Life Club, and neither does some socially acceptable money-making diet plan. Eat less, no more “Bug Juice,” call it Gatorade, it’s still Bug Juice and try working out or mowing your own grass. I devised an NFL diet for meat-eating barbecuing beefy guys called the NFL diet of death. First you pick a team then display their roster on the refrigerator - yes, the one in the garage too - then weigh in. Highlight all the roster players who weigh more than you and joyfully exclaim, “At least I don’t weigh as much as them.” And assign yourself a position by weight, your season goal is to go from nose tackle to slot receiver, eventually returning punts and kickoffs and driving a sports car. Kickers don’t count.     

Snippets - Hey athletes, how are those summer reading lists going? How about writing and speaking in complete sentences? Most foreign exchange students and summer workers return home perplexed how our social and educational system produced so many talented people who always seem to be playing at something and having a good time. At the Jungle Jim’s 5K June 25, Gemez Tull said to me, “Sorry for your loss.” I said, “Thanks, what did I lose?” “Your friend Bruce Hefke.” “How do you know Bruce?” “I’m a counselor at Sussex Tech. You know when my dog died he made a marker for me for the grave. It just made me feel so much better.” “Knock it off, Gemez, can’t you see I’m trying to dissociate?” Gemez, 40, won his weight 211-220 and age category at last Sunday’s Clydesdale State Championship in 26:27. Great guy, for sure, but as Merle Haggard sang, “I’m older now, I ain’t got no time to cry.” Go on now, git!