WHY I DO THE IRONMAN

2.4 mile swim. 112 mile bike. 26.2 mile run. In one day. That's the Ironman.

People often ask me why, as a 50-something, semi-good former athlete, I would put myself
through all that torture just to complete the race. I don't have a single answer for that. I have
many of them.

It's not a bucket list item. As somebody who is on the back nine of life, I can think of many
other fun things to do with the $750 entry fee than grind my way through close to 13 hours
of non-stop action to complete a 140-mile race.

For me, doing the Ironman is an annual celebration of life. It's another opportunity for me to
be thankful that I'm still healthy enough, at my age, to swim, bike, and run.

I don't have anything to prove. I squeezed out every ounce of energy and talent out of myself
in trying to be a success in baseball. I got a scholarship to UNC and played in the Boston Red Sox organization and don't have any regrets. It was a phase in my life that I enjoyed but it has long
been over.

Father Time is catching up to me, but doing the Ironman let's him know that running me down,
no matter how slow I may be, won't be all that easy.

People often want to tell me that doing the Ironman "can't be good for the body." Neither is alcohol,
junk food, and staying out all night. I'd rather break down because of over-exercising than over-
indulging in the poisonous things you put in the body.

I don't do the Ironman for the fancy medal awarded upon completion. I usually give the
hardware to my niece or nephew before it has a chance to be draped around my neck.

I do the Ironman to compete against the clock and challenge myself. As far as I'm concerned,
there is nobody else on the course, despite getting clubbed by elbows, arms, and feet during
the 2.4 mile swim.

I compete in the Ironman because I love swimming in open water. There are few things as
exhilarating as navigating your way through a course filled with 2,000 other competitors. You
can't see what's below you and the sight of mountains, trees, and the sunrise can be pretty
spectacular.

I do the Ironman because the energy and vibe of the event is truly incredible. It provides
an adrenaline rush that can last for weeks, as it did when I completed my first Ironman
in Lake Placid at the age of 50.

I love the Ironman because I get an up close and personal look at the human will and spirit
of others. I enjoy hearing their stories, where they are from, and why they do the Ironman. I
really believe anyone can do the Ironman. After all, most of us can run, bike, and swim. The
will to complete it is definitely the key.

I enjoy the mind games that come with completing the event. It truly is an oddesey for the

mind, which often tells you to quit and go home for good. I tried to quit forever after
completing my second Ironman in 2016.

Almost as soon as I crossed the finish line, I made a b-line to the pizza tent and finished
off an entire pie and then some. I announced my retirement to no one in particular and
didn't work out a single time for the next seven months.

But the Ironman sucked me back in. I couldn't do without it. Oh, it's not an addiction,
trust me. I'm not obsessive about it and have never followed a routine, hired a coach, or
watched every little thing that goes into my body. If I felt like doing a 100-mile bike, I
would do it. If I had a 10-mile run in me, I'd bust it, too. I've alway trained by 'feel' and made
sure not to overtrain or abuse my body.

I signed up with the Ironman in Mont-Tremblant, Quebec just under four months before
the race. I completed it for my fourth career Ironman.

This June, I'll travel to Boulder, Colorado for my fifth Ironman.  Can't wait. The Ironman
doesn't consume me, but it is very much a part of me. And I love it.

CAFE MARTIN: THE HOTTEST SPOT IN BOSTON

Boston already has a place to go where everybody knows your name, now it
has a spot to visit if you want to bring some cheer to a special person in the city.

Café Martin opened over the summer and has become a destination place for friends
of John Martin, a videographer at NESN, who was diagnosed with ALS last October.

"It has been a big boost for me and my family," Martin said from his home in Newton.
"I had been seeing a lot of people for lunch, but when I started slowing down, we just
started encouraging people to stop by."

And they've stopped by in droves to Café Martin. Or I should say, Café Martin at Piazza Adonis.

"One of my best friends was over and we had already coined the 'Cafe Martin' phrase for
the patio - and that tipped a hat to John's French background," said John's wife, Adrienne.
"And not wanting to be left out, I wanted a tip a hat to my Italian background, so my friend
decided  it was a cafe at a 'piazza' which means square in Italian. My nickname in high school
was 'Adonis'.  So, she coined the entire phrase 'Café Martin at Piazza Adonis' which is silly and
fun, much like us."


Thus, one of the hottest spots in Boston was born.

Athletes, celebrities, and friends of the Martin's have been visiting Café Martin at Piazza
Adonis, providing great comfort and a lot of laughs for JPM, as he is known to all his friends.

"It's been so fun and really meaningful that we are able to keep good energy flowing in our
home, in our lives and for John's spirits," she said.

The highlight of Café Martin so far was the appearance of former Red Sox great and hall of
famer, Pedro Martinez. Martinez dropped by Café Martin before pitching in Steve Buckley's
Old-Timers baseball game on August 17. Martin had covered Martinez during his spectacular
run with the Red Sox.

"Pedro was awesome," Martin said. "When he arrived, there were about 20 people chanting,
"Pedro! Pedro! Pedro! He was kissing and hugging everybody. It was really a great scene."

MLB Network followed Martinez on his trip to Café Martin and documented the beautiful
atmosphere and special friendship between Martin and Martinez.

Martin says he has a standing invitation to Bruins goalie Tukka Rask, whom he also
covered while working at NESN. "I texted him the other day. I'm hoping he shows up, too."

John's sister created the Café Martin sign that adorns his home. Longtime friend Bryan
Brennan produced the hashtag (#OnlyAtCafeMartin), and Facebook is now flooded with
pictures of all the friends who have visited Café Martin at Piazza Adonis.

"We are so lucky to have so many great people in our lives to help support us and keep

John being John," Adrienne said. "We wanted create a social atmosphere for him because
it is one of the things he loves best, being with people, hanging out, talking and having fun."

This is love. This is friendship. This is Café Martin at Piazza Adonis. It's a beautiful thing.

Be sure to stop by. It's more than worth it.

If you'd like to support Café Martin at Piazza Adonis and JPM, please buy a t-shirt. Be sure
to hit this link:

https://teespring.com/jpm-legend-edition#pid=11&cid=2488&sid=front

100 percent of the proceeds will go to the John Martin Fund.

CATCHING UP WITH JOHN MARTIN

11 years.

That may seem like a long time, but I found that once I turned 40-years-old, life seems to
morph into a frenetic sprint to finish what was started in the 1960's. A year goes by like a summer,
a month goes by like a week, and a week is over before a rooster can see the sun rise in the east.

Some days I feel like screaming, "Whoa, slow the heck down! What the heck is the rush?!"

It had been 11 years since I had seen John Martin. We were co-workers at NESN in Boston
and often paired together in that dream world of covering sports in the one of the greatest cities
on the planet.

We weren't best friends but we shared some amazing, if not hilarious, moments during our
assignments covering the New England Patriots. There were road trips to Pittsburgh, Denver,
Charlotte, and many other places along the way. John was a true professional as a videographer.
He didn't work by the clock or for the paycheck, but rather for the love of the job and the amount
of pride he took in it.

We never looked for the approval of  higher-ups at the station, but rather each other. We had
very high standards and knew when our product was damn good or just good. We sugarcoated
nothing and never looked for a pat on the back from others.

I'm not sure we ever said good-bye when I departed NESN in the late summer of 2006.
Perhaps, it was because there was an understanding that our paths would someday cross again
in the business. It happens more often than not in the world of sports television.

Except that it didn't.

There was the occasional text, tweet, or phone call out of nowhere. But other than that, Martin
may as well has been in Bangkok. I may as well have been in Anchorage. Our paths didn't come
close to intersecting. But we were still friends, through and through.

Over the course of those 11 years since we last saw each other, things changed. A lot. There
were new jobs and moves to new cities for me. And life changed in the blink of an eye for
Martin in the cruelest of ways.

Last October, Martin was diagnosed with ALS, or Lou Gerhig's disease.  He stepped away
from a career that he loved and one where he was universally respected. His life as he knew it,
was put on pause. Martin, with an amazing wife, Adrienne, and two beautiful girls, Kaia and
Gabby, have to battle a disease that has never lost.

Life is not fair. Anyone who has lived on this earth long enough knows bad things often
happen to the best of people. John Martin is the very best of people. And as I've often said
before, he's as solid in character as the 150-year-old oak tree that stands strong and proudly in the
middle of the forest.

Very few people escape the world without dealing with some form of hardship or tragedy. I
realize diseases don't discriminate, but this just didn't seem fair.

I planned on being in Boston during the weekend of August 4-6 and reached out to Martin
as I wanted to see my former co-worker whom I enjoyed so many great times with. It was
extremely important to me.

When my girlfriend, Kim, and I pulled up to his home in Newton, nothing at all really
seemed to change. There was John in his baseball hat and sunglasses with that trademark
mile-wide grin on his face. That was the JPM I knew.

We never embraced when we worked together. There was no time for any kind of man-love
on the job. We were too busy and besides, we weren't in to the Roger Goodell hug-a-draft
pick-kind of thing, anyway.

But that changed when I saw him. I gave him a long embrace hoping it would take away
just a little bit of the overwhelming pain that he's been dealing with it. We shared a lot of
stories and some good laughs over the next 90 minutes.

However, the effects of the wretched disease has started to take its toll. Martin said there
is weakness on the left side of his body. He now wears a brace to stabilize his left leg. JPM
can no longer stand for long periods of time. It is heartbreaking

The entire Boston sports and television community has rallied around JPM to make things
a little better for him and his family. Financial contributions continue to come in after his
diagnosis in October.

Several weeks ago, Steve Buckley, the longtime sportswriter for the Boston Herald and
founder of a long-running Old-Timers game, announced this year's event would benefit
Martin in his battle against ALS. It's a wonderful gesture by Buckley to honor and help
out a wonderful person in Martin.

John showed me the old-time uniform he'll be wearing on August 17, the date of the game.
It's a retro Los Angeles Angels uniform, which Martin requested since the Angels are
the name of the youth baseball team he has coached in Dorchester for the last 30 years.

Even better, Pedro Martinez, the baseball hall of famer and Red Sox great who will be
pitching in the game, has stated that he will pick up Martin at his home in Newton and
take him to the game.

How cool is that?

Martin deserves it. He is a great man who happens to be battling a terrible disease. The
game on August 17 may feature Pedro Martinez, but it will be all about John Martin. It's
his day to get the recognition he deserves. He earned it during his 19 years as a videographer
for NESN.

There aren't many people like John Martin.

I realized that when we worked together and it was reinforced as we embraced again
before I headed back to Connecticut . He is truly a special person.

There are moments when I wish time would just stand still so we can give the people we
love and care for all the help they need to get through difficult times. But I know life doesn't
work that way as it waits for no one.

I hope the great people of New England and beyond continue to help out Martin and his
family by providing some financial assistance to Martin. The tough times will only get tougher.

He needs our support.

He deserves our support.

Please contribute. A little goes a long way for Martin and his family.

https://www.gofundme.com/jmartinfund

MIKE VITI: TRUE WARRIOR AND AMERICAN HERO

15 seconds into my interview with Mike Viti, I knew it was going to be one of the best ones

I've ever conducted. Viti isn't a household name, doesn't have a multi-million dollar contract in

his back pocket or rank as the most followed person in the Twittersphere.

No, he's none of that. Mike Viti is a true warrior and American hero. There aren't many of those
in this "look at me and my selfie" world we live in.

Viti is a combat veteran who served in Afghanistan. He was a military captain and earned a
Bronze Star for his courage and character in the global war on terror. Viti was also a four-year
letterman and captain of the Army football team during his senior year.

As we sat down on the West Point campus, which wreaks of history, honor, and tradition, I
expected something really special and I got it. In preparation for the interview, I scoured articles
and videos to get a better understanding of Viti. I knew that a disciplined, everything-close-to-the-
vest veteran wasn't going to warm up quickly to some reporter he had never seen or even
talked to before this afternoon. I surmised he'd have little time for someone who was unprepared, either.

My television feature story on Viti included the symbiotic relationship between sports
and service and how they might parallel each other when it comes to discipline, teamwork, commitment, sacrifice, and doing things the right way.

I am intrigued and in awe of anyone who has fought for this country. I admire all
those who have the courage to leave so much behind at home to fight against faceless enemies
a world away. To me, they are all heroes. Forever.

Mike Viti, center, military captain

After we settled into our seats, our eyes locked on one another. I figured Viti would have no
interest in opening up to someone who had shifty-eyes and couldn't stay engaged. I was engaged.
This was a war hero. The adrenaline was flowing.

"What does it mean to you to have fought for and served your country?"  was the first question
I asked. There was a pause and his steely-eye stare could've bore a hole through my forehead.
This question was right in his wheelhouse. This is what he lived for. This is what he wanted to
tell the world about.

"It was the greatest experience and honor of my life," Viti said in a strong, deliberate tone.

I got chills and could see the goose bumps stand at attention on my forearms.

Viti talked about honor, courage, country, sacrifice, and commitment. He never looked down
and didn't blink for what seemed like 10 minutes. This was his life, his world, his reality. I
was fully engrossed.

After we talked about his military and football experience and the collision of the two worlds,
we moved onto a subject that was spectacular and close to unbelievable.

In 2014, Viti walked from Seattle to San Diego then across the country to Georgia and finished
up in Baltimore. He wanted to bring awareness not to himself, but rather Gold Star families and
the more than 6,000 people who lost their lives in the global war on terror since 9/11.

4,400 miles on foot.

During his journey, Viti met with 67 Gold Star families. He often stayed at their homes overnight
and listened to parents, brothers and sisters, and children who lost a hero in the war. When he
wasn't taken in by a Gold Star family, Viti camped out under the stars. He walked through
Yuma, Arizona where the temperature reached 120 degrees. And sorry, while it may be dry heat,
temperatures that high can kill a person.

Viti started the journey at 240 pounds which was close to his playing weight and finished the
cross-country walk weighing about 185 pounds. Viti told me he got on a scale once during
the 232 day event and cringed when it read, 188. 

"It made me feel weak," Viti said. "I haven't been on a scale since then," he said. Viti is a
chiseled 195-pounds or so today. He doesn't have an ounce of fat on him.

Viti ended his journey at the Army-Navy game in Baltimore that year. Today, he's back at
West Point coaching fullbacks, the position he played for Army. I asked him about his future
aspirations.

"I want to be a head coach. I want to be a leader of men," he said. 

What an honor to be in the presence of a former military captain and Bronze Star recipient.
That doesn't happen everyday and I was grateful for the opportunity to talk with and interview
someone who has given so much to this country.

Mike Viti is a true patriot, true warrior, and most of all, an American hero.

GOOD-BYE, BIG HUGH DONOHUE

There are people you meet once that you'll remember for the rest of your life.

Hugh Donohue was like that.

There are people you spend time with, get to know, and come away saying, "I'd fall on a
sword for that guy."

Hugh Donohue was like that, too.

If there was a food label on him it would read: 100 percent natural. No artificial flavors or
preservatives added. He was as pure and genuine as a person could possible be. Huge Donohue
was real--plain and simple.

Donohue died on July 13. He lived a full and spectacular life, leaving an indelible impression
on a countless number of people, including me and so many student-athletes who passed
through the University of North Carolina. He enriched the Carolina experience like few ever
have on the tree-lined campus in Chapel Hill.

At 6'8" with a barrel-chest, Donohue was a mountain of a man blessed with a big heart, warm personality, and an unforgettable booming voice. He played basketball for Dean Smith and the
Tar Heels, which automatically made him royalty in the eyes of many of the young athletes at
UNC. He shared the court with  basketball legends like Larry Brown and Donnie Walsh and
was good friends with others such as Billy Cunningham, George Karl, and Bobby Jones.

If you loved Carolina, history, and sports, and needed a good story about all three, few could
weave it and make it come to life like Hugh Donohue. The New York native held court many
times as the owner of "Four Corners", a bar and restaurant that became a Franklin Street landmark
and hangout for just about every baseball player on what seemed like every night of the week.

We soaked up all of his stories and Carolina basketball memories. They were pure gold

Long before "Cheers" came along, "Four Corners" was a place where everyone knew your name.
It was  a home away from home, a stadium, or the challenges that we all faced trying to balance books and baseball. Huge Donohue made it that way.

He let most of us drink for free and would often turn the other way if he caught us raiding
the refrigerator for a late night snack. I'm sure his profit margin went down significantly during
our years there, but I don't think Donohue cared one bit. He was putting smiles on a lot of faces
and that was important to him.

Mr. D. was like a best friend who never judged and went out of his way to help no matter what
your status on the baseball team was. He treated everyone the same: beautifully.

Several years ago, I ran into Mr. D in Westchester Country, New York, not far from where he
grew up in Yonkers. He was the same man I met 25 years earlier in Chapel Hill with just a little
more gray in his hair. We shared a lot of laughs then went our separate ways. It would be the
last time I'd ever see him.

I was saddened by the news of his death. Anytime a great man passes on it is hard for his
family and friends. But the sadness was followed by a mile-wide grin on my face. Hugh Donohue
was a beautiful man. One who provided some great laughs and helped connect Carolina athletes
from all walks of life forever.

Rest in peace, Mr. D. We will never forget you.

A VERY SPECIAL FOURTH OF JULY

July 4. Independence Day. A celebration of the birth of our country. There will be fireworks,
hot dogs, parties, and most likely, a lot of alcohol consumed. It's a Federal holiday and one that
most Americans can fully enjoy without having to think about work.

Four years ago, I had to think about work because I had to. I drew the short straw and punched
the clock on the Fourth of July. It's usually one of the worst days in the television business
because the rest of the world is celebrating while you're covering parades, fender-benders, and
the rescue of some fat cat in a tree. In other words, B-O-R-I-N-G. About the only benefit to
working on the Fourth is the free food management usually orders for you. The food usually
sucks, but it tastes better only because you didn't have to pay for it.

On this day in 2013, however, the assignment I got was totally priceless and made working on
a holiday a special experience. There would be no parades, fender-benders, or the rescue of
some fat cat in a tree. I had to do a feature on a 98-year-old woman who tends bar on the
mean streets of Bridgeport, Connecticut.

When I arrived with my photographer, there she was in all her glory. Angie McLean looked like
Old Glory, dressed in red, white, and blue from head-to-toe. She had more than 30 miniature
American flags dotting her perfectly coiffed hair. McLean, is a star, who, after living nearly
a century, has more than earned her stripes. As I got set to interview her, I watched her buzz
around the bar, mixing drinks and serving customers with a smile on her face, and just wondered
to myself all the things she has experienced in her life, one that begin on April 6, 1915
.

I also said to myself, "This woman is living life. Retirement is a four-letter word to her. She
is 98-years old, working six days a week and has a smile on her face. I love this person."

As McClean settled in behind the bar for her interview, she seemed ready for my first question,
as if she knew it was coming.

"Why are you still bartending at 98-years old?", I asked.

"Because I'm not the type of person to sit around and watch TV. That's not for me," she
responded.

Great answer and one that left me saying, "Wow", to myself. I'm just praying I'm still
above ground and playing shuffleboard with my friends at 98, and this woman is loving
life as a bartender, slinging drinks six days a week. Take time to think about that for a second.......
incredible.

McLean lives by herself and is picked up by her bosses who take her to work and drive her
home after work every night. She dresses up for every holiday. On July 4th, McLean is an
American flag. On Christmas, she morphs into a Christmas tree with all the ornaments.

"Do you ever get tired from working six days a week," I asked her.

"Of course not. You have to keep moving. Life waits for no one. If you stop, it passes
you by," she said matter-of-factly.

Amazing. Perhaps, I was really talking to the sister of Norman Vincent Peale or the
grandmother of Anthony Robbins. She was so positive, so full of life and her energy
was rubbing off on me. I knew I was in the presence of someone truly special. No, she
wasn't a great athlete, movie star, or politician. Angie McLean is just a normal person
who has lived an extraordinary life exactly how she wants to live it.

McLean gave me a special gift without even knowing it. She inspired, motivated, and educated me. Today, I am 52-years old, exactly There is so much of life left to live, so much left to accomplish.

If I become a bartender for the rest of my life that won't be a bad thing, just as long as I
do it with a smile on my face like McLean has on hers every single day. Thank you
for the gift, Angie McLean.

INSPIRATION: KATY SULLIVAN, BLADE RUNNER

Katy Sullivan's entry into this world was rough. She was born without the lower part of her
legs and the doctor who delivered her tried to say the right thing in comforting Mrs. Sullivan,
but turned his words into a natural disaster.

“The world doesn’t need another athlete. But she will find plenty of other things to enjoy and
be good at.”

Young Katy would grow up to be actress, and a pretty good one. However, when Sullivan
was 25-years-old she discovered that it's never too late to be what you might have. She was
fitted with carbon-fiber prosthetics and started to run. Sullivan didn't stop running until she
reached her goal of making the U.S. Paralympic team that competed in the 2012 Games in London.

"As an actress, I tried to play the role of an athlete," Sullivan said from her high-rise apartment
in Manhattan. "I knew I had to get up at 5 a.m., eat right, train hard, and be really dedicated. I
wasn't an athlete growing up, so I had to learn how to become one pretty quick."

Sullivan became a world-class Paralympic athlete in something quicker than a New York City minute. She became a four-time national champion and set the American record for the 100 meter event in the 2012 London Games.

"To be there in front of 80,000 people was truly incredible," she said.

Sullivan returned after the Games, but NBC Sports chose her to provide commentary for
the 2016 Paralympic Games in Rio. That was after taking a break from an acting career that
saw her land roles in  Nip/Tuck, My Name Is Earl, and Last Man Standing.

"Can't is a four-letter word to me," she said. "You should never let anyone tell you 'no' or that
you can't do something. Live your dreams, not someone else's. "

As for that doctor who said, "The world doesn't need another athlete," upon her arrival to
this world.

"I would love to find him and show him the athlete I became," Sullivan said with an ear-to-ear
grin on her face.