Some people run away from their problems. Not Jo Shott. She chases her challenges to the finish line.

Shott is a competitive runner, and when she’s in a race—or just running for the fun of it— the promise of finishing fills her with an exhilaration that is difficult to put into words.

“I love running,” she says. “I love the wind in my face and the feeling I get. I think it’s the endorphins. People think that running hurts and wonder why anyone would want to do that. I think it’s a matter of ‘it hurts so good!’ You get a runner’s high. You get so satisfied with yourself that you tested your own limits and pushed yourself to do better. The sense of satisfaction makes it all worthwhile.”

Because she loves running so much, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that she is co-owner of The Jacksonville Running Company, along with her husband Owen and friend Ted DeVos. Opening the business was a natural fit with their passion for running.

“We opened the store a year ago,” she says. “Although the economy was bad, we decided to go for it. Owen had a vision of what he wanted—something more than an ordinary running store. Ted had a financial background. We think we’ve succeeded, because despite the economy, we had a fantastic year.”

Their success may be partially due to their investment in technology and because they opened their market to more than dedicated runners. “We didn’t want to be just another running store,” she says. “Our passion is to genuinely help people. Our logo is ‘Fitting shoes to make you fit.’ We fit shoes by making a scan of a customer’s feet to see where their pressure points are. Then we put them on a treadmill and video them as they walk or jog, to show them why they may be having pain. We’re able to better fit them in the right shoes that way. We also have a mobile unit that goes to businesses and health fairs to work with people who wouldn’t go to a running store because they don’t think of themselves as runners. We want to help people get healthier.”

Although running is in her blood now, it wasn’t always. “I was a late bloomer,” she says. “I didn’t start running until I got into college. Most runners start early—when they are in middle or high school. My high school—University Christian—didn’t have a track and cross country team for girls. I’m athletic, so I played basketball for several years, but I wasn’t very good at it. I enjoyed the drills, though—running back and forth. I finally realized that I was more of a runner than a basketball player. When I enrolled at the University of North Florida, I started running every day for exercise. I would see the cross country team practicing, so inevitably I ended up running with them in order to have company.

“I did this for two years. Finally the coach said, ‘You come to practice more than the people on my team. Why don’t you join the team?’ I didn’t think I was good enough, so I turned him down. But, finally, he prevailed, and I joined the team my senior year.”

Her desire to have company while running had a permanent (and pleasant) result in her life: her husband. “Owen started running with the UNF team for company. We like to say that we ran into each other so we were meant to be!”

Owen is more than Shott’s husband and business partner. He is also her trainer and coach and has encouraged her to be a serious runner. “A serious runner is someone who has a goal—either time and/or a race. We put a plan in place to get ready for a race. It’s a process that lets the body get prepared.”

Shott has been running 5K races for several years, but she has recently started to run 10Ks, which are about six miles long. “I’ve been mentored by a lot of veteran runners who tell me, ‘Don’t try to compete in really long distances like marathons until your body has matured and you have been running a long time. Women peak in their early to mid-30s. I’m not there yet,” says the 30-year-old.

Although she does not usually run marathons, she did run in the 26.2 for Donna Breast Cancer marathon in February. “I really like running in races that have a cause, especially for women’s health, like the 26.2 for Donna. When you see so many people carrying signs that say ‘I’m running for…’ you get really inspired,” she says.

Shott also enjoys “off-the-wall” runs, such as the one she and her husband did with their dog. “the dog run was a lot of fun,” she says. “Another one that I really enjoyed was the Ragnar Relay in November.”

That relay race started in Tampa and finished in Daytona. Shott and her 11 teammates passed the other 50 teams and came in first. “It took us about 21 hours to run across the state,” she says. “We started about 1 p.m on Friday and finished about 10 a.m. on Saturday.”

Her next competitive race? “There’s a 10K in Charleston, S.C. I’m going with a group of girl friends and we’ll make a weekend of it.”

Jo Shott is one of three owners of The Jacksonville Running Company, www.jacksonvillerunningcompany.com, located at 9823 Tapestry Park Circle, Jacksonville, Florida 32246.

SIDEBAR

Before you want to start running…

Running is something anyone in good health can do, says Shott. So, if you want to start running, make sure your doctor gives you the OK. Once you have the green light, Shott suggests:

• Get a good pair of shoes. Make sure they are properly fitted for the kind of running you want to do.

• Start slow. Don’t try to run two miles the first day. “It will hurt and you’ll quit,” says Shott.

• Get a partner. “Having a partner gives you accountability,” she says. Ask someone to walk or run with you. You’ll increase your chance of success if you make yourself accountable to someone.

Some people look forward to weekends so they can fish, go to movies, or just lay back. Deborah Thode, a business coach and owner of Inside Out Solutions, Inc., looks forward to the weekend so she can clown around—literally.

“I become Knock Knock the Clown,” she confesses. “I let my alter ego take over and have a lot of fun doing it.” Her alter ego doesn’t look anything like the serious business coach it replaces. Knock Knock has curly green hair, wide white eyes, a big red smile, and a red ball nose.

Thode says her clown face and outfit have evolved over the years. “I started out as a white-faced clown with big rabbit buck teeth. Now I don’t paint my whole face, and my costume has changed a bit.” She chose her name—Knock Knock—because she loves to tell knock-knock jokes. “Today’s kids grow up too fast, and they don’t understand knock-knock jokes,” she laments. “I love to teach them and get them to laugh.”

Thode has clowned around since 1991, but clowning wasn’t something she set out to do. In fact, the idea had a grim beginning. “My dad was seriously ill, and I asked him what he wanted to do before he died. He told me. Then I asked my mom the same question, even though she was in good health. Very seriously—my mother was always serious— she said, ‘I want to become a clown.’ That shocked me, because I had never heard her say anything funny!

“A while after my dad passed away, mom told me she wanted to sign up for a community education clown class, but they needed five more students for the class to happen. She recruited four friends and ‘shamed’ me into enrolling. I didn’t want to go. I had a stressful life and a difficult marriage, and I was working 50 hours a week. I was an unhappy person, and the last thing I wanted was to go to clown school.”

But Thode went, “kicking and dragging my feet.” The third week of class, Thode remembers, the group experimented with face painting. “My mother ‘volunteered’ me to be painted. The instructor painted a rabbit on my face, with big buck teeth.” When everyone burst out laughing, she looked in the mirror to see what was so funny. “It was like cracking the code. I looked at myself and started laughing harder than I could ever remember. It made me feel good, and I knew I was hooked. I was a clown.”

After the clown class ended, Thode and her mother felt a letdown, but it didn’t last long. The following week they discovered Gator Clowns was hosting a class of its own, and the pair enrolled for the six-week course. Thode has been a Gator Clown ever since.

“Gator Clowns is a not-for-profit organization that has two main goals: to preserve and promote the serious art of clowning, and to assist North Florida nonprofit, civic, and charitable organizations with their fund-raising events.” Anyone who has gone to the Jacksonville Car and Truck Show, the Scottish Highland Games, or some of the Daniel Foundation events has seen members of Gator Clowns entertaining the crowds, explains Thode.

Its annual six-week clown school is how the organization works on “preserving and promoting” the art of clowning. Tuition of about $100 includes the cost of makeup. “Wanna-be” clowns learn about the history and roots of clowning, how to apply makeup (the smile should not go beyond the corners of the eyes and only a few colors should be used or the face becomes scary), and humor.

Today, Thode only clowns with the Gator Clowns, but at one point she supplemented her income by clowning. “Jacksonville has a lot of corporate clowns,” she says. “For some people, clowning is their livelihood. In 1997 when I was going through my divorce I started doing a lot of paid clowning. Unfortunately, clowning three parties each Saturday and two on Sunday for two years straight burned me out,” she says. Other things such as family life, working on her MBA, and assuming a new role as a vice president for Arnold Palmer Design Company, took priority over painting her face; clowning went on a back burner.

When Palmer’s golf design business moved from Ponte Vedra Beach to Orlando in 2006, Thode decided it was time to take her career in a new direction. She became a certified business and executive coach and opened Inside Out Solutions. “Clowning helped me, I think, especially when it came to making presentations. When you’ve dropped your pants [as a clown] in front of 200 people, it’s nothing to get up and talk in front of a roomful of executives.”

Since she joined Gator Clowns in 1992, Thode has been involved in a variety of leadership positions. The group asked her to take the helm (again) as president in 2009 to reinvigorate it—something she has done. Membership is up from just a few volunteers to more than 50. Her clowning know-how has not gone unrecognized: The local Shrine Temple, which has its own alley of clowns, hosted a national Shrine Clown Convention in 2009. She was asked to be one of the judges.

Why does Thode take so much time and trouble to clown around? She ticks off a number of reasons: friendship (“The people are great!”); laughter (“Clowning taught me how to laugh again”); family fun (“It’s brought me closer to my mom, my daughter, and my granddaughter”); and a deeper appreciation of life (“We are who we choose to be”).

Although she is stepping down from the Gator Clown presidential role in 2010, she is looking forward to another successful National Clown Day at Riverside Arts Market where about 40 Gator Clowns entertained the crowds last August. Look for the clown with the curly green hair. It will be Knock Knock, telling corny jokes and having the time of her life.

 SIDEBAR 1

4 kinds of clowns

Although no two clowns ever look exactly alike, every clown fits into one of four basic types, explains Thode:

• White-face clowns. These are the ones, like Clarabell of Howdy Doody fame, whose faces are painted entirely white.

• Auguste clowns. These clowns have face paint, but their faces are not completely white; they are more flesh-toned. Most Ringley Bros. Circus clowns are auguste.

• Hobo or tramp clowns. Red Skelton is a classic example of a tramp clown.

• Character clowns. Whether white-faced or auguste, these clowns always act the part of a character, such as a firefighter or a Keystone Kop.

SIDEBAR 2

What’s an alley of clowns?

An alley is to clowns as a gaggle is to geese, explains Thode. The term came from the old days of tent circuses, which had a separate tents  for men and women. Clowns were not allowed in either tent because the talcum powder the clowns used got onto the shiny costumes of the others performers. So, the clowns were banished to the alley between the men’s and women’s tents. Thus evolved the term “alley of clowns.”

By Linda Segall   

Crisis management is serious business. So is public affairs and corporate communications consulting. So, when Simon Keymer, founder and CEO of the Keymer Group, a Jacksonville-based public relations agency, had an opportunity to take a week off and have some fun last summer, he jumped at the opportunity—which was to buy a $500 clunker and drive it, with a team of friends, from New York to New Orleans, in the 2009 BABE (Big Apple to Big Easy) Rally.

“My company is a public relations agency,” he explained. “But, our specialty is at the serious end of the PR spectrum. Though we’d jump at the chance to handle Britney Spears’ publicity, that’s not where our strengths lie.”  

That “serious end” includes helping companies to manage political and regulatory issues, building and protecting positive corporate reputations and handling business crises of all kind.

The gravity of his work finally got to him: It was time to do something fun, and last summer’s BABE Rally (www.baberally.com) provided the perfect opportunity, he said.

“Actually, I had three reasons to do it,” Keymer admitted, in a way that clearly identifies his British origins. “First and probably most important: I wanted to have a good time with my mates [friends]. Second, I wanted to raise some money for charity. And third, I wanted to raise our profile in the local community.

“We have a national client base,”,” he said, adding that his firm has a Washington, D.C. office in addition to its Jacksonville headquarters. “We actually have few north Florida clients; so we fly a bit beneath the radar here. The BABE Rally was in part intended to help us begin to change that.”

Keymer moved to Jacksonville when his wife, Dr. Tannahill Glen Keymer,took a position as clinical professor of neuropsychology with the University of Florida at Shands Hospital. “I’ve lived in Jacksonville longer than anywhere else,” he said, indicating that he has planted firm roots here. “It was time to give back. So, I thought I could use the BABE Rally as a way to raise money for a local charity and connect to our own community.” He chose the daniel Foundation (www.danielkids.org) as the recipient of his charity drive.

Having a good time was high on his agenda, however. “I’m nearly 40. I thought this would be a kind of last hurrah, to spend a week with my male friends,” he said. “That said, I seriously overrated the ‘fun factor’ of sitting in a car with my friends for nine hours a day!”

That “fun factor” was tested several times throughout the rally—beginning a couple of days before it even started.

The rally had one strict rule: The value of the clunker could not exceed $500. “I looked for weeks and test drove a number of vehicles, even one in which possums had been living ,” said Keymer. “I was getting desperate as the date approached. But finally I found a 1995 Dodge Stratus whose condition seemed OK and whose interior was clean. I talked the owner into selling it to me for $500 because this was a charity event.” Jim at Cedar Hills Tire & Auto Care gave the car a thumbs-up once it had new tires and brakes.

The evening before they were to put the car on the auto train, Keymer decided to have his mechanic take one last look at the electrical system. “There was an intermittent electrical problem I couldn’t find,” he said. “Sometimes when you turned the engine on, the car would drive, but it wouldn’t have any electrics—no radio, lights, wipers. You could drive for miles without noticing. It was worrisome.”

It was actually more than worrisome; it was almost catastrophic. On the way to the mechanic, in Friday evening rush-hour traffic, the car caught on fire. Thanks to the help of Good Samaritan motorists who stopped and poured water and soda on the fire until it was extinguished, the car did not die a complete death. But its new paint job was semi-ruined, and the pristine interior was smoke-damaged.

“I must admit, I felt quite glum,” said Keymer. However, an hour later his mechanic found the cause of the problem—a loose wire that was sparking—and fixed it. The next day, the car was on the auto train, enroute to Staten Island, N.Y., the start of the 1,500 mile drive to New Orleans.

Keymer and his local pal Holland Johnson were joined by Justin Doherty, an old army buddy of Keymer’s, who flew in from Abu Dhabi, where he resides. On Sunday they and 70 other clunker-driving teams started their five-day adventure, which was to include a kind of photo treasure hunt. Participants were to take pictures of specific things, such as a hot-air balloon or a Ferrari, to earn points. The team that earned the highest number of points—and finished the race—would win a cash prize at the end.

The first two days of the rally, Keymer and his team considered the rally a serious contest—and they came in first each day. “We made a big deal of it. Then we realized something: Everyone else was having fun and we weren’t! We were approaching this like a job to be done.” The third day, they decided to live it up and detour to Knoxville for a night on the town. A good time, however, was not to be.

“We broke down in the fast lane of the interstate,” he said. “The engine overheated. Smoke started pouring out. I had a bit of post-traumatic stress disorder considering my previous fire experience four days earlier. But when the engine cooled down and we turned the car on, the electrics came on, and I suddenly had an epiphany: It’s like a locked-up computer. You have to reboot it occasionally. We didn’t have any more problems after that.”

No more electrical problems, that is. On the morning of the last leg, from Birmingham to New Orleans, they were the last car out of the parking lot. “I was driving,” he said. “Suddenly I heard this massive bang, as if someone had hit a fragile part of the engine with a sledge hammer.” We got out of the car and found that one of the wheels had come off its ball joint.”

That was it; the race for Keymer and his Team Preteen Spirit was over. Keymer signed the title of the clunker to the tow-truck driver and the team flew to New Orleans for the end of rally party.

The rally was a bust, but the week was not. Keymer said, “We achieved our objectives: We raised some money for charity; we had a good time; and we drew attention to our business in our home community. All in all, a job well done.”

Simon Keymer is founder and CEO of the Keymer Group, www.keymergroup.com He can be reached at 904-383-4834 or simon.keymer@keymergroup.com

SIDEBAR

What is the BABE Rally?

BABE Rally stands for Big Apple to Big Easy: The Great American Banger Rally. It is a 1,500 mile rally, which the organizers stress is not a race, starting on Staten Island, N.Y., and ending in New Orleans, La.

“Banger” is the British word for “clunker,” explained Simon Keymer, founder of Keymer Group, a Jacksonville-based public relations firm. “Banger rallies are quite popular in Europe.”

The first BABE Rally was in 2006. Founded by StreetSafari (www.streetsafari.com), the main purpose is to have fun through “a unique motoring experience.” BABE’s Web site says it is easy to join the fun. “Just get yourself the worst looking vehicle you can for $500 or less and enter the rally.”

According to Keymer, the cars are environmental disasters. Some seem to be held together with duct tape and wire. But the participants really get “into” the event. “One team was dressed like clowns,” he said. “They did everything in their clown costumes and red noses—eating breakfast, working on their car. Every time you saw them, the funnier it was.”

To enter the BABE Rally participants had to agree to a few rules. Among them:

• The car cannot be valued at more than $500.

• It must carry insurance.

• The clunker must pass the safety inspection of the state in which it is licensed.

• All drivers must have a valid license.

• Basic safety rules must be followed.

• The team is responsible for disposing of the vehicle.

Throughout the five-day drive, the teams are challenged to do certain tasks, such as photograph specific sites. The team that comes in first with the most points earned from these tasks can win a prize: $1,500, first prize; $350, second; and $150, third. Only teams that finish with their clunker are eligible for the prizes. Keymer did not win, since his banger broke down before they could even start the last leg of the journey.

The rally is a fun event, but teams, like Keymer’s may participate as a money-making event for charity. Keymer’s team raised about $5,000 for daniel Foundation. The team kept the spirit alive by taking photos and posting them and commentary on Facebook and Twitter each day.

Keymer's clunker--before its BABE paint job

Keymer's clunker--after its BABE paint job.

BABE Rally clowns

Clunker alley

The Keymer team with its broken down banger. From left: Justin Doherty, Simon Keymer, and Todd Johnson

By Linda Segall    

To most people, “surf and turf” is a menu choice—seafood and steak. To Paul Beiderwell, surf and turf—or rather, turf and surf—expresses what he does—for a living and for fun.

“Turf” refers to Green Vision Services, the business he operates, which he describes as primarily a grass-cutting service, although he says he has also done some extensive landscaping. He’s been providing these services for homeowners in the Riverside and Ortega areas of the city for more than 20 years.

“I did the ‘corporate thing’ for a while,” he said, explaining how he got into lawn service, “but I discovered the company I worked for wasn’t employee-friendly. To keep my sanity, I decided to open my own business.” Lawn care appealed to him. It was something he knew well, since he had done it as a youngster; and it gave him the freedom to be outdoors as well as to schedule his own time.

At one time, Beiderwell was on the go from sunrise to sunset, servicing 85 yards a week. “That schedule was extremely tiring and hard on me,” he confesses. “Over the years I’ve let the business ‘relax’ so that the schedule is not as demanding.” He now has about 25 contracts. “People are happy with what we provide, both in the quality of our work and in our prices, which are generally about 20% less than others.” he says.

His less demanding work schedule allows him to engage literally in the “surf”—through kitesurfing.

Beiderwell got into kitesurfing in 1998, a period in which his lawn service company was at its peak and its demands were physically draining. “My relaxation was limited to collapsing on the couch and watching TV,” he says. “One evening I came across a channel with the kitesurfing championships from Maui. I was captivated. A week later, I had a trainer kite, and a month later, I had purchased my first full-sized rig with a board and various pieces that go with it.”

The sport was in its infancy then, and not much information was available on how to kitesurf safely. He says he was lucky. “I didn’t understand the power of wind on a piece of fabric. I didn’t know that a kite generates enough power to pull a car down the beach. I had no idea how close to death I was! I just set up the rig and let it happen.”

As he mastered the sport and learned to appreciate its very real dangers, he decided to help budding kitesurfers learn how to do it safely. At the time there were very few trainers and learning was very sketchy. In 2002, he became certified to train others. “Some of the best kitesurfing in the state is right here at Huguenot Memorial Park. The park’s conditions can be right for any level of kitesurfing. People with any skill level, in any wind direction, and at any tide level can find a safe place to practice,” he says.

Because the location is so well suited for the sport, it attracts kitesurfers from all over. “At one time the city and park management considered closing the park to kitesurfing for at least part of the year because they were concerned about kiters injuring other people,” he says. “I didn’t want the park to close to kitesurfing, so I got into training people how to do it safely.” He estimates that since 2002 there have been more than 500,000 hours of kitesurfing at the park without a single injury to the non-kiting public.

Beiderwell has taught more than 500 people, from ages 7 to 77, how to kitesurf, using a 14-step lesson plan that exceeds the certification requirements of PASA (Professional Air Sports Association). He starts with the basics, teaching his students about meteorology and concentrating on safety. The powerful kites are tethered to the instructor during the most dangerous part of the lesson and until students learn to control the kite in a safe way. Students don’t sign up by the hour; they sign on and work with him until they become competent, he explains. “Anyone who takes lessons and develops good safety habits can have hundreds of hours of fun without even stubbing their toe.”

He emphasizes that kitesurfing is a sport and requires the acquisition and honing of skills. “If you have good winds, you can learn the basics in two to four sessions,” he says. “Some people like my wife Linda are ‘fair weather’ kitesurfers. They go out to cruise the flat water. Others are into riding the waves and doing tricks, which require more skills.”

To Beiderwell, kitesurfing offers a way to let go of the day’s stress. “My wife says it’s a

Paul and Linda Beiderwell

 way to ‘defrag the hard drive’,” he says. One thing is for certain: Paul Beiderwell is a turf-and-surf man, and if the wind is up, you can probably find him at Huguenot Park, riding the surf.

Paul Beiderwell operates Green Vision Services. He can be reached at 904-424-2721. For information on kitesurfing lessons, go to his Web site, www.1stcoastkiting.com.

SIDEBAR

What is kitesurfing?

Kitesurfing, also known as kiteboarding, is an extreme water sport that uses the wind to pull a rider through the water using a wake or surf style board. The rider has control over the kite and often performs tricks or rides waves in the water, similar to a skateboard rider on land.

Kitesurfing differs from parasailing, which Beiderwell describes as a recreational activity. “In parasailing, the person pays a fee, gets strapped into a special parachute rig, and is pulled by a boat. He has no control. In kitesurfing, however, the rider is in control; it is a sport requiring skill.”

Watch a demonstration of kitesurfing at Huguenot Memorial Park:

As Tim Blin, owner of Premier Garage of Northeast Florida, approached the age of 40, he decided to make a “bucket list.” One of the items near the top of the list was completing a 480 mile bicycle trip across the state of Iowa.

RAGBRAI stands for the “Register’s Annual Great Bicycle Ride Across Iowa,” sponsored by the Des Moines Register newspaper. The ride starts on the western border of Iowa at the Missouri River, where bikers dip their back tires into the river’s waters for good luck, and ends on the eastern edge of the state, where bikers, by tradition, end their trip by dipping their front tires into the Mississippi River.

“We started in Council Bluff in the west,” said Blin, “The weather was great. You just never know what the weather is going to be in Iowa. I was thankful it was not one of those 90-degree plus weeks. RAGBRAI is a seven-day ride and takes place the last week of July. This was its 37th year. It is the longest, largest, and oldest touring bicycle ride in the world. It attracts people from all 50 states and many foreign countries. This year they had 13,000 registered riders— people of all ages and physical abilities. I even saw someone riding a unicycle and another on roller blades.”

RAGBRAI is not a race; you take it at your own pace, averaging around 70 miles a day, Blin explained. Many riders take their time and stop at all the pass-through towns. Blin and his brother-in-law took a different approach: They rode to the overnight host towns as quickly as they could, although they did stop to enjoy the sites and food along the way.

“The towns really roll out the red carpet,” he said. “The town squares transform into a festival atmosphere with bands and all kinds of food. The homemade ice cream and pies were amazing!”

To take the ride, Blin shipped his bicycle to the starting pointing and flew to Omaha, Neb., where he met his brother-in-law, brother, and father, who were his support team. His father also had a motor home, where they slept each evening.

“This year the ride zigzagged through the southern part of Iowa,” he explained. “Every year the route changes. Many of the stay-over towns are quite small and to have about 20,000 people converge in one day is truly a site to see. Campgrounds and fairgrounds become tent and motor-home cities.”

To those who think riding across Iowa would be easy because the state is flat, Blin says, “Think again! It’s a beautiful part of the country, but it is definitely not flat. This ride was one of the 10 hilliest in the history of RAGBRAI. We climbed 22,000 feet over the course of the week. We found all of Iowa’s hills, and the muscles in my legs can attest to that!”

For Blin, riding across Iowa was as much of an accomplishment as opening his own franchise business five years ago. “I had been considering different business options when I visited my sister in Phoenix and saw that most of the garages out there had coated floors and storage cabinets—something you did not see a lot Florida. I then visited the headquarters of Premier Garage in Phoenix, and that led me to becoming Florida’s first franchise owner.”

Blin said business has held its own, even during the economic downturn. “Especially in uncertain times, people find comfort when things are in order. Getting rid of the clutter and having things organized has a strange effect on the brain. It makes you feel good and gives you a sense of control. I have a great team and we are approaching our 700th garage installation.” he said.

Blin is continuing to add to his “bucket list.”, “I’ve now taken up kite-boarding. This summer, I traveled to the outer banks of North Carolina to learn the sport and I’m hooked.”

After that? “I haven’t yet decided. But it will be something exciting—guaranteed.”

Tim Blin is the owner of Premier Garage of Northeast Florida, www.premiergarage.com. He can be contacted at 904-234-1699.

A 100 pound tarpon was no match for this kayak fisherman    

A plea for “just five more minutes” turned into 50 and caused Brett Hastings to be late for a meeting with a new client, but he didn’t mind. Because he gave in to his kayak-fishing mate’s request, he ended a quest he had yearned to fulfill for years: He landed a 5 foot, 100-pound tarpon.

The achievement of this fisherman’s goal happened June 26 around 2 p.m. “We [Hastings and his friend Zsolt Takaczs] had been fishing for more than five hours,” explained Hastings. “Although all the conditions were right—the right weather and the large schools of bait fish—and we could see the tarpon, they just weren’t taking our bait. I was ready to head in because of a 3:30 p.m. appointment I hadn’t been able to cancel, but Zsolt begged me to try one more time. As luck would have it, within five minutes, the fish took my bait. Needless to say, I was late to my meeting, but that was OK, because it turned out my client is also a kayak fisherman. He understood.”

Hastings, who during working hours is a trial attorney and a partner in the law firm of Reznicsek, Fraser, Hastings, White & Shaffer, says landing a tarpon is not easy—especially from a kayak. “I’d caught tarpon from a boat,” he says. “Ever since I started kayak fishing about eight years ago, I’ve always wanted to catch one from a kayak. But the conditions have to be absolutely right.”

In June and July the bait fish—menhaden shad, locally called pogies—congregate in pods and move up and down the coast. Following them are tarpon (and other fish, such as sharks), who see the pods as dinner. Fishing for tarpon requires, in addition to the pods and the tarpon, a third condition—prevailing west winds. “Westerlies keep the seas flat,” says Hastings. “When you are in a fishing kayak, you need calm seas. When all three elements come together, you have a limited window of time. You have to take advantage of it!”

For a sports fisherman, the allure of catching a tarpon is the fight. And the fish Hastings caught didn’t disappoint him. “It took 50 minutes to bring him in,” he says. “But the coolest part was that because the ocean was so calm, the water was clear. I actually saw the fish take the bait. When he realized he was hooked, he took off about 50 to 60 yards in about two or three seconds. My reel felt like it was going to blow up, and I felt like I was hooked up to a Porsche 911! Then he jumped a good six or seven feet out of the water and took me for a quarter-mile ‘sleigh ride’!”

Slowly over the course of the next 25 minutes, Hastings was able to “play” the fish. “All of a sudden, the fish went down vertically,” he says. “That was when the fight got really difficult, because I had to literally pull him up from straight down. I completely underestimated the physicality of that feat. Every other time I’ve fought a large fish, I had the ability to use my legs. But this time, I had to sit the whole time. It was like in weight lifting holding a 100-pound curl for 20 minutes. I was completely worn out from the fight.”

To make sure friends would not think Hastings was telling a “fish story—since he revived and released his catch—” his friend Takaczs recorded everything on camera. “When you go kayak fishing for tarpon in the ocean, you always have a companion for safety,” says Hastings. “There is an unwritten rule that you each have a camera, and if one of you hooks a fish, the other one starts taking pictures.”

Hastings has fished all his life, and although he still fishes from boats, kayaks have become his love. “When I started kayak fishing about eight years ago, not too many people were doing it. Now, it’s different; a lot of people kayak fish. I love it. Although you go out with others, you are alone on the water. The solitude is therapeutic. It’s a great way to de-stress from work.”

When he isn’t fishing for tarpon, he enjoys hopping into one of his three kayaks or onto his gheenoe, which is essentially a motorized canoe. “I live on the marsh in Jacksonville Beach,” he says, “so after work, I go out in one of my kayaks and fish inshore for redfish, trout, or flounder.”

Hastings says he can’t wait until his three boys—4-year-old twins and a 2-year-old—are old enough to fish with him. “They fish a bit now,” he laughs, “but they don’t have a long attention span.” His wife Carrie also enjoys fishing from kayaks, so the two of them split their time on the water. “It will be nice when we can go this as a family,” he says.

In the meantime, Hastings has set a new goal: To catch another tarpon from a kayak, but this time on the fly. “Catching a tarpon in a kayak is a great challenge,” he says. “Doing it with a fly rod instead of with bait is even harder. But it’s my next great quest.”

Brett Hastings is partner in the law firm of Reznicsek, Fraser, Hastings, White & Shaffer, www.rfhlaw.com, 4230 Pablo Professional Court, Suite 200, Jacksonville, FL 32224, 904.567.1060.

By day she’s the energetic owner of Statewide Reporting Service, a thriving court-reporting business. By night, Gayle Featheringill is a passion-driven volunteer impresario at Players by the Sea, an amateur play group in Jacksonville Beach, Fla. Each of her “occupations” is work, she says, but she loves them both.

Featheringill formed her own business in 1980 after working several years as a typist and a court reporter. She says her company performs an important function: Its eight freelance court reporters take depositions and record court proceedings, administrative hearings, and other public hearings—anything in which a verbatim transcript is needed. “When there is an appeal,” she says, “the appeals judge only sees the transcript of the proceedings, never the witnesses. So the transcripts have to be verbatim.”

The recession has had an inverse effect on Featheringill’s business, so much so that she herself has had to re-engage in reporting. “Business is thriving now, so much that they call me to go to work!” she says. “We deal in crime and bankruptcy, which go on the rise in a recession. We got along with only four reporters for many, many years. We were content and could have a weekend. Now we have eight reporters and we never stop!”

Despite her busy schedule, Featheringill finds time to indulge in her “other work,” volunteering both as an actor as well as a behind-the-scenes worker at Players by the Sea, where she has been involved since its inception in the late 1960s. She got the acting bug while she was in college and tried out for the lead in Picnic at the urging of her English professor. That was in 1959, and she has never shaken the bug since then. “I’ve worked at Limelight Theatre in St. Augustine, the [now defunct] River City Playhouse in Jacksonville, and Theatre Jacksonville. I enjoy the production aspect of theater as well as the acting.”

Usually actors and stage crew have about six weeks to prepare for a production. But Featheringill remembers one time when she had only hours to act in a Shakespeare production. “It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done,” she said. “I received a call from the executive director at 11 a.m. on a Saturday morning, asking if I could go on that night. They faxed me the lines so I could learn them. The cast and crew came in early so I could get my blocking [stage moves] down. And the prop master put my lines on parchment paper so I could ‘cheat’ a bit. Since my character had to talk about the law, I would hold up the parchment paper and the audience thought I was talking about the law. I was actually reading my lines. There are life accomplishments. This was one of them for me.”

Putting on amateur theatrical productions is “fun work” but work nevertheless, says Featheringill. “There are never enough people. It takes about three people backstage for every actor you see on stage—people running the lights and sounds, directing, helping with costumes, and getting the actors dressed.”

The time commitment is considerable, too. The actors may rehearse three or four times a week for several hours each time. The stage manager, a role Featheringill enjoys fulfilling, is even more involved, working up to five nights a week, and even more during “hell week,” the week prior to the week before the play goes on. “That’s when everything comes together—lights and sounds with the acting, over again and again, to get the timing right. You work hard all week.”

Why does she do it, if the work is so hard? “Why do some people play golf?” she answers with a question. “Working in the theater is hard work, but it’s not just that. It’s a passion. The only thing we get in amateur theater is the reaction of the audience, and that is so rewarding. Applause is part of it, but it’s more than that. When you are on stage, you can make yourself disappear and become someone else, or make people think you do.”

Featheringill may disappear on stage, but not from Players by the Sea nor her own business. “I’ll never retire!” she states. “This is ‘my thing.’”

Statewide Reporting Service is located at 233 East Bay Street, Suite 606, Jacksonville, FL 32202, 904-353-7706. Players by the Sea, www.playersbythesea.org, is located at 106 Sixth Street North, Jacksonville Beach, Florida 32250.

Deadlines are a way of life for David P. Barley Sr., CPA. The most urgent deadlines for Barley and his colleagues at Barley, Martin & Wild, CPA, PL, are March 15 (corporate taxes) and April 15 (personal income taxes), because the firm specializes in taxes. But he says other deadlines unrelated to taxes are common, too, such as deadlines imposed by bankers who have loaned money to clients.

Whether the deadlines are tax-related or not, however, they all create stress. “The most stressful thing about my job is managing the variety of deadlines that occur,” he says. “And there are emergencies that occur and have to be fit in, and you have a variety of people relying on you to provide tax-planning information, so you do what you have to do.”

Doing “what you have to do”—especially in tax season, the weeks prior to federal deadlines—means putting in significant time at the office and away from the family. “Fortunately, we generally know when those stressful, high-volume times are,” says Barley, “and our families know it, too. Everybody just gets used to it. You plan around it.”

Barley truly enjoys his work, especially when he sees clients benefit from his tax and financial-planning advice. “When I see long-term clients who have been able to get their kids through college, prepare for their retirement, and are able to lead a comfortable life equal to or better than what they wanted, that’s probably the most satisfying long-term benefit of my job,” he says.

Running his own firm is also satisfying. “Some people just have an entrepreneurial spirit,” he explains, “I’m one of those people. I like the challenges and risks of owning my own business. You have to worry about paying rent, covering overhead, and keeping the doors open, But it’s very rewarding knowing that at the end of the day you are successfully taking care of your family, as well as providing your employees with good jobs, financial security, and a chance for advancement, training, and learning, as well as taking care of your clients and their needs.”

Despite the challenges of running his own business and the stress of the deadlines inherent to accounting work, Barley has made his family his top priority, and he lives by one simple rule: “I never miss my kids’ activities.” He and his wife Debra have two sons, David Jr., 18, and Ryan, 15. Both boys have been involved in sports since they were old enough to throw a ball. He takes his self-imposed rule of not missing their activities seriously. “Even during tax season, I’ve been fortunate in being able to not miss their activities,” says Barley.

Perhaps more impressive is the fact that for 13 years—including the two years he spent working on an executive master’s degree at the University of Florida— he has only missed one activity of each of his sons. “I had to travel to Gainesville for one weekend a month during the period when I was getting my master’s,” he says. “It was during one of those weekends that I missed an athletic event.”

When deadlines have passed and it’s time to “de-stress,” Barley and his family like to “kick back” at their house on Lake George, in Georgetown, Fla., about 20 minutes south of Palatka. The house is actually on an island, reachable only by ferry or by boat. “When we go there, it’s a way to really get away,” he says. “We ski, knee-board, tube, jet ski. Sometimes we just go out to the middle of the lake, throw down the anchor, ride the jet skis, and relax. The operative word is relax. That’s exactly what we did after April 15.”

When the entire family is at the lake house, daytime hours are filled with activity, with boating, swimming, and even a little fishing (very little; Barley admits he is not a fisherman). It’s a different story when he and his wife enjoy time alone at the house. “We just sit back and enjoy nature and the serenity and seclusion of the island,” he reflects. After meeting all of those deadlines, that’s a good thing.

SIDEBAR

Two reasons to be part of your kids’ lives

David Barley has found that involvement with his children’s lives has done more than merely give him a way to relax and unwind. “Involvement is something I advise other to do. It serves a twofold purpose,” he says:

• It forces you to get out of the office of time. Kids’ activities are regimented and scheduled, he says. “The activities start when they start, not on your schedule. If you are running late, you are going to miss the game. Being involved forces you to leave the office on time.”

• You get to know your kids. “Kids just want your approval. They want to make you proud. And when you spend time with your kids, you also spend time with your spouse,” he says. That time helps build relationships, something that can be hard to do in hectic times.

When the office lights go off at night, some men turn to wine, women, and song to relax. Not Ralph Nicewonger. “For me, it’s always been cars,” he says.

And in recent years, it has been classic cars. “My wife, Judy, and I have two classic Thunderbirds—a ’57, which was the last two-seater model Ford manufactured, and a ’58, the first four-seater. “Since I turned 15,, I’ve owned 79 cars, trucks, and motorcycles, says Nicewonger. “Unfortunately, I didn’t realize how valuable some were until after I sold them.”

Nicewonger’s daytime job is owner, along with his wife Judy, of Publication Distribution Services, a business he created in 1997 for another company and bought out in 2003. The company, through its 30 contracted carriers, distributes free publications from southern Georgia down through Ocala and Silver Springs.

After hours, as a way to relax, reduce stress, and “to preserve history,” the Nicewongers like to take one of their classic cars out for a spin. “The fun is to get [the cars] out and run them around. It’s neat when you drive down the road and somebody recognizes that you’ve got something unusual,” he says. “Somebody will drive by you and blow the horn and wave. I think all old-car owners get a kick out of that. It probably strokes their ego somewhat.”

Although some classic-car buffs do their own restoration, Nicewonger says he doesn’t pretend to be an expert. “Our cars, according to judging classifications, are considered ‘drivers.’,” he says. And although the Thunderbirds they currently own are not “concourse quality” vehicles, they have won a few trophies, some based on their great condition and some for fun. “Last Halloween, we won a trophy for ‘Best Halloween Performance.’ We borrowed a mummy from a party store and put it in the trunk and decorated the car with cobwebs. It was fun.”

The awards are won at car shows put on by various classic-car organizations to which they belong—the Thunderbird Club, First Coast Car Council, the Florida Show Car Association, and the Antique Automobile Club of America (AACA).

“These organizations do everything from Saturday-morning cruise-ins from 7 a.m. to 9 a.m. at a Crispy Crème to different shows sponsored by churches or organizations.” He says the AACA goes to senior citizen centers regularly. “You sit there for a few hours and get the chance to talk to some people who remember their first date in the back of a Model A.”

Driving his cars and exhibiting them are only two ways in which Nicewonger’s hobby keeps him busy after hours. A third is organizing events. In April, he organized the classic-car show at the Cecil Field Air Show, which this year was billed as the largest air show in the United States. It was also a fund-raising activity for the auto club. “Typically we raise money for different charities at our car shows. This year we joined with the Cecil Field Air Show to raise money to help a stunt pilot who broke his neck in a tragic accident and became paralyzed,” explains Nicewonger.

The car buffs raised money by inviting visitors to vote on their favorite auto. Each vote had to be purchased. “It was the first time we’ve had this kind of contest,” he says.

Owning a classic car can be a little “pricey,” says Nicewonger, but it is a great family hobby. The only downside? “We have a two-car garage,” he says, “and unfortunately, our ‘regular’ cars have never seen the inside of it.”

Publication Distribution Services, 904-737-7327, is located at 5107 University Boulevard West, Jacksonville, FL 32216.