Tag: fiction

Most people think life changes in dramatic moments.

A promotion.

A diagnosis.

A wedding.

A divorce.

A financial windfall.

But the older I’ve become, the more I realize that life rarely changes because of one single event. More often than not, life is shaped by small decisions repeated over time.

Just as compound interest quietly grows an investment account, our daily choices compound into the lives we eventually live.

The reality—and the challenge—is that compound interest works both ways.

Good decisions accumulate benefits.

Poor decisions accumulate consequences.

The walk we take today may seem insignificant. The walk we skip today may seem insignificant too. Yet neither decision exists by itself.

They are both earning interest.

You Have a Nice Butt

I ran track at Manual High School back in 19-something… well, let’s just leave the year at that.

I was mainly a long jumper.

Truth be told, my status as a great runner didn’t begin in high school. It started back in elementary school at St. James. I loved running, but more than that, I loved being chased.

Picture this: a third grader runs by and somewhat gently slaps another kid on the face; that depending on what kid was being slapped. That kid starts chasing him, so while being chased, the slapper goes ahead and slaps another kid… and another… and another… all while dodging the growing crowd behind him.

It was all in good fun… at least that’s how I remember it.

I loved running. I loved long walks. I loved even longer bicycle rides. But mostly, I loved running.

When my mother would walk from 17th Avenue and Monaco all the way to Colorado Boulevard and back, I wasn’t walking beside her. I was running ahead, turning around, running back to her, then taking off again.

In the words of Forrest Gump, “If I was going somewhere, I was running.”

Although I was fast, and one of the runners to beat for bragging rights around Park Hill, I still didn’t have proper sprinting form in high school.

Coach Burrell constantly worked with me on coming out of the starting blocks. We did kickbacks, high knees, 200-meter sprints, and long runs around City Park Golf Course.

Sometimes those runs got even longer.

One day, Coach Burrell caught me smoking a cigarette behind the school. He pulled up in his truck, rolled down the window, and simply said, “Hit the park.”

After what felt like forever, he told me, “If I ever catch you smoking again, you won’t run for me.”

Looking back, I appreciated him for that.

He gave me another chance, but he also taught me something I’ll never forget:

If you’re committed to becoming something, you can’t keep doing things that work against it.

Then came the last day of school.

Everyone was cleaning out their lockers.

I bent over to pick up a few books when I heard a girl behind me say, “Don’t move.”

She called another girl over.

They both looked.

One of them smiled and said, “You have a nice butt.”

Well…

I was skinny, but I was in great shape.

I got her phone number.

We became good friends.

Not a bad return on all those miles.

Baby?

Years passed, and things changed, as they always do.

I still stayed in shape but not as much as I would have liked.

It wasn’t that I wasn’t committed. Life got in the way.

I was a single father raising two boys, and whenever I got the chance—which seemed to be just about every weekend—I would PARTY!!!

If it wasn’t a house party, it was the club. When the club closed, it was the after-hours club. Sometimes it was the motorcycle club, where they knew you were underage but let you in anyway.

I took up smoking again. And if you’ve ever had hard liquor and beer, you know the chaser was almost always a cigarette.

Before heading to the club, I’d stop and buy a pack of menthol Kool Filtered Kings or Newports. By the time the night was over, so was most of that pack.

Looking back now, I’m so thankful I quit smoking in 2007.

But cigarettes weren’t my only bad habit.

It was also what I was putting into my body.

Carbs.

Red meat.

Foods loaded with sodium.

Cake.

Ice cream.

And don’t even get me started on Krispy Kreme doughnuts.

Every doctor’s visit seemed to include the same conversation.

“Your triglycerides are high.”

“They’ll come down with exercise and a better diet.”

So I’d work out hard… for about a week.

I’d play long basketball games after drinking a 40-ounce bottle of Old English 800 Malt Liquor with a few friends.

Crazy, right?

The funny thing is, I still had game.

Man, I remember playing in the blazing summer heat, putting up points with my “okie-doke” shots—that’s what my friends called them.

What I didn’t realize was that while I was still able to perform, my body was quietly keeping score.

The damage wasn’t instant. It was accumulating.

One poor choice after another.

One skipped opportunity after another.

One unhealthy habit earning interest.

Then one day, my youngest son looked at my stomach.

He tilted his head.Looked again.Then asked one word.

“Baby?”

He was completely serious.

I couldn’t even be mad.

That one word said more than any doctor’s report ever had.

Those years of accumulated choices eventually showed up as moderate visceral fat, prediabetes, poor sleep, and other health challenges.

Thankfully, compound interest works in reverse too.

That’s when I decided it was time to start making deposits into my health instead of withdrawals.

But seriously…

“Baby?”

I still laugh about that one.

The Results of Repeated Choices

It wasn’t the word “Baby” that stayed with me. It was what that one word revealed.

Somewhere along the way, I had accumulated enough visceral fat around my abdomen that my youngest son honestly thought I looked pregnant. At least he didn’t ask if I was having twins.

Could it be fixed? Absolutely.

But it would come at a cost.

Then again, getting there had come at a cost too.

Every choice has a price. Some choices require us to pay now and enjoy the reward later. Others feel good in the moment but quietly send us the bill years down the road.

Whether we’re talking about our health, finances, relationships, or character, our daily decisions are always earning interest.

The question isn’t whether there will be a cost. The question is when we’ll pay it, and whether we’ll be grateful we did.

The Next Deposit

The older I get, the more I realize that life is rarely changes by one big decision. It’s changes by thousands of small ones.

A promotion. A healthy marriage. A strong body. Financial freedom. A meaningful relationship with your children. None of these happen overnight. They are the results of small deposits made over weeks, months, and years.

Today you have an opportunity to make another deposit.

Maybe it’s taking a walk instead of watching another hour of television.

Maybe it’s putting twenty dollars into savings.

Maybe it’s making the phone call you’ve been avoiding.

Maybe it’s choosing forgiveness.

Whatever it is, don’t underestimate it.

The future you’re hoping for isn’t built in a single day. It’s built one decision, one habit, and one deposit at a time.

Small wins really do change lives.

So I’ll leave you with one question:

What deposit will you make today?