When the words were announced over the auditorium speakers, I just about had to prop up Robert “Greek” Fochalis to keep him from falling down. He was stunned, in disbelief that we would have our campers recognized for obtaining the best overall score by any cabin. I couldn’t believe it, either.

On my vacation last week, I returned home to see my mother in a small community called Wyco Hollow, W.Va. Never heard of Wyco, you say? Well, I'd tell you to "Google" it, but that would not turn up anything useful. Wyco, W.Va., if you search it, produces more than 39,000 hits.

I had intended to write this column about falling off the horse and how you have to get back on it. Problem is, I never really fell off the horse. Maybe that’s the more important thing to share with you. About two weeks ago, my routines were turned upside down. With the Taste of Home Cooking School, I was a man consumed.

Bon Jovi was right. Who says you can't go home?
Last week, I wasn't the only person who found solace in returning home. Two other individuals - Mike and Dan D'Antoni - also returned home last week, which prompted the Mullens (W.Va.) Chamber of Commerce to host an "Evening with the D'Antoni Family" during their annual awards banquet last week.

For Easter weekend, I went home to meet up with some fraternity brothers of mine for our five-year reunion. That's exactly how long it had been since the last time I had seen these folks. Needless to say, there was a lot of catching up to do. The last time they had seen me, I was at 330-350 pounds. I can't really remember exactly because before this journey, I never looked at weight scales. A weight scale was not my friend. Really, it wasn't even an acquaintance.

I empathize with Peter Pan. I don’t want to grow up. Making those big decisions for Ernie isn’t an easy task. I’m 26 years old. Far from over the hill, but not quite the unschooled kid I used to be. Until February, I was traversing life as a married man. I didn’t have to make big decisions on my own. I had someone else to help me decide because my actions impacted her life, too.

For years, I've wondered who it was that inspired Christopher Columbus to become the explorer he's forever know as. What possessed him to take his journey, to find what others felt did not exist? I can't imagine how vindicated he felt (or who he first thought of to thank for the inspiration) when he stepped onto the strange, exciting land he had discovered. He thought it was America; turns out, he was miles off of what we today call America.

I’m a competitive guy. I want to win. I don’t have to be the best today, but I want to be better tomorrow. Some day, I do want to be the best. If not the best overall, I’d at least like to be the best Ernie I can be.
With my new found desire to exercise and take control of my body, I am no different. I started off in bad shape. Progressively, my health has changed for the better over the last six months. One day, I want to be in great shape, the best I can be.

When you come from a small town, you learn to celebrate any successes you have, knowing they'll never make it to the front page of the New York Times or USA Today or any newspaper, for that matter. Winning a game for your local high school, earning enough money to purchase the i-pod you want, reconnecting to old friends: those are the things that you celebrate. It's not because big successes don't happen in your life, but rather because you need something to distract you from your routine.