Make my day...

I promissed to expand on the story about the walker who made my day in Phoenix last Friday.  I am at 31,000 feet somewhere over the mountains on my way to St. Louis so this is as good a time as any.

One of my roles on the 3-Day is “bad cop” to the walkers.  I have to remind them of rules and, sometimes, enforce them to weary, dedicated angels walking for a cure.  I really hate that part.  To make it more palitible, I try to come up with cute ways to say the obvious.

One of our rules is that walkers must stay on the sidewalk whenever possible.  After having told several groups to get out of the street for their own safety, I was getting frustrated. I came across a young walking group, one of whom is obviously connected to the military with his handsome, Marine Corps looks and his camoflauge sun hat. 

When I got to them on my bike, I turned and hollered, “how many times do I have to tell y'all, if I don't see a license plate stuck on your ass, I want to see you on the sidewalk!”. I smiled back at them all and gave them a “thumbs up” sign.

Four hours later, I am leaving a pit stop where there is a wide sidewalk and all walkers, now spread out from the hours of walking, are all safely on the cement.  Just as I am approching a group from behind, I see a guy jump out into the street and keep walking.  I was mad that he had done that, then pissed when I realized it was my forewarned Marine.  As I got closer, I nearly fell off my bike laughing -- he was holding a cardboard license plate that said “Cal Fed” on his is butt.  I grabbed a quick photo (to be posted when I get home next week) and went up and thanked him for making my day.  The guy not only remembered my admonition but went out of his way to find a license plate and CARRIED IT for 10 miles just waiting to hear me come up again.  I made a rule and he lived by it.  My son will tell you that that is all I ever ask of anyone.