50/50 by Dean Karnazes Read Free Book Online Page B

physically active. In fact, our official motto is “No Child Left Inside.” So the next words out of Huckabee’s mouth were heartening.
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    “You know, Dean, we can’t legislate this country back into shape,” he said. “Mandating better school nutrition and stuff like that is a step in the right direction, but the key to truly solving the problem is efforts like yours.”
    “Really?” I said reflexively.
    “We need role models to inspire others,” he said. “That’s what motivates people to change their lifestyle. Kids have to want that for themselves. No law can make a kid want to eat right and exercise. But you do it every day by setting an example.”
    I was so gratified by the governor’s compliment, I didn’t think to mention that he had become a pretty good role model himself. In fact, he was currently training for his fifth marathon—the New York City Marathon—which happened to be the final stop of the Endurance 50.
    Before he peeled away from the group to take care of the day’s gubernatorial business, Huckabee gave me a valuable piece of advice. He had asked me what the hardest part of the Endurance 50 had been so far.
    “Honestly, it’s dealing with the media,” I said. “I like running all night by myself; dealing with the press doesn’t come naturally to me.”
    “Listen,” he said. “I know the press can sometimes be a distraction, but don’t think of it that way. Think of the media as a very powerful tool that you can leverage to help change the world in the ways I know you want to change it.”
    He was right. I made a silent vow to do my best to be more comfortable with the press from that day forward.
    “I’ll see you in the Big Apple” were Governor Mike Huckabee’s last words to me.
    “You’ve got a deal,” I said, feeling that the New York City Marathon was still a lifetime away.
    We were approaching the seven-mile mark when Huckabee left us, along with his security detail. The nine remaining runners now got the opportunity to share their stories. I learned that one of the two women in our group was a member of Huckabee’s staff. She had been so modest that I had no clue she knew him. Another runner told me he was a physician; this was his first marathon. He had left the emergency room at one o’clock this morning and driven through the night to get here. By the time we passed the halfway mark, he was already struggling.
    “I’ll make it,” he said, “but I can’t keep up with you guys.” He gently faded behind us with a few of the other runners.
    The rest of the group held together impressively. We crossed the finish line shortly after noon, by which time it had turned into one of those glorious afternoons when summer blends with a hint of fall. It was warm and dry with a gentle breeze and soft sunlight that was unobstructed except by a few wispy clouds.
    The Finish Festival, which had been set up smack in front of the Capitol Building, was our best yet. Alexandria and Nicholas ran about and played excitedly with the crew. Six or seven members of the governor’s task force on childhood obesity were present and eagerly chatted with my kids, whom they seemed to view as models for the children of Arkansas. Nicholas asked them whether they had any soda pop or candy. Even at eight years old, he had a quick wit and mischievous sense of humor.
    During the short ceremony that we performed daily during the Finish Festival on the little stage that traveled with us, a representative of the governor’s office presented my dad and me and with large framed certificates. She explained that they were decrees appointing us as Arkansas Travelers, or official ambassadors of the state. My dad asked if this meant we got a key to the city. He hoped so, because he’d heard there were