Today is No D Day. It has been so long since I have thought about anything but diabetes, meeting people with diabetes and making a difference in the diabetes community.

The first thing that came to mind to write about was life before diabetes. What do I remember from before November 23, 1988? Not a whole lot, but I do have a few very vivid memories.

Here is one:
In my basement as a kid there was a pipe that stuck out of the floor. It was about a foot from the wall near the center of the room.
At my eighth birthday party my friends and I planned a boxing match. By planned, I mean we decided it would be a good idea.
It was to be my friend Jeff (who held an advanced degree in taekwondo) vs. me (no defense training, no idea what I was doing).
At recess every day my best friend Josh trained me. I did push ups, ran, and…that’s about it.

January 20, 1988. Pizza. Cake. Adrenaline.
It’s fight time. We put on our padded boxing gloves (I mean REALLY padded-there was at least 4 inches of foam) and got ready to spar.
I was bigger than Jeff, but he knew what he was doing. My plan–get the first hit. That was my whole plan.
I don’t remember who the referee was: maybe Vincent, maybe Tommy.

Ding. Ding. Ding.
We began. Gloves on guard. Ready to strike.
I threw the first punch. Surprised, it connected.
It was more of a push then a punch.
It knocked Jeff off balance. He fell.
Everything went into slow motion.

That big pipe sticking out of the floor was in the exact wrong spot. Jeff smacked his head on it.
He blacked out for a second. No blood, but the fight was over.
Let’s call it a draw.

That was my introduction and exit from professional boxing. Soon after that I found a camera.
If any of you readers were there on that epic day, please fill in the details I missed in the comments.