My a-ha moment

I really love Oprah (no last name necessary). I find her inspiring, and motivating. Which made yesterday, the day of her last talk show, a very sad day indeed.

I haven't watched the very last show yet--not quite ready to say goodbye to my television friend. But I did watch the last couple shows prior to that, as everyone shared their own personal Oprah moments. I thought it only fitting to say goodbye to Oprah by sharing my moment as well.

It was a long time ago, probably 15 or 16 years ago. I was an eager young 20-something, and I'd just returned from a whirlwind year living in Washington D.C. I thought I could do anything (as long as the weather was nice. Which it wasn't in D.C. Which is why I was back in L.A.).

Oprah was on a mission to make America skinnier, so she was holding 5k walks all over the country. When I saw a date for Los Angeles flash onscreen, I flipped out. I signed up as quick as I could, with the hope of meeting my idol.

I even convinced my friends Wende and Stacy to join me. They are avid walkers, and fellow Oprah fans.

They day dawned bright and early in Griffith Park, and we were off. I was full of enthusiasm, and I was excited to walk. For all of about 30 minutes, that is. After the first or second mile, I slowed down considerably. I also slowed down Wende and Stacy, who put up with my whining and dragging feet longer than anyone should have to. I finally told them to go on without me--I knew I could finish the walk, just not at their speed-walker pace.

And so I enjoyed my stroll. It was a beautiful day, the park was filled with happy people, and life was good. My feet hurt a bit, but there was no one to complain to, so I sucked it up and kept walking.

At the end of the walk, I saw Wende and Stacy waiting for me. They were so awesome! They could have completed the race, but instead, they waited by the finish line so we could all walk in together.

Which is exactly what I was planning to do. Until...

I saw her. Oprah. The one and only Oprah, standing on a platform, cheering on everyone as they finished.

Suddenly, my exhaustion disappeared, and my second wind kicked in. It was Oprah! And I was just steps away from meeting her!

My sense of grace disappeared the same moment my exhaustion did. Wende and Stacy, who were so sweet to wait for me, watched as I raced past them, beating them both to the finish line. So much for one for all and all for one. (Sorry, girls!)

I wasn't planning to be so rude. I think my attention deficit disorder just kicked in, and when I saw Oprah, that's all I could focus on.

I made my way to the platform, determined to shake Oprah's hand. I was one among many; the crowd was huge around me, and growing bigger every minute. Oprah was amazing, laughing and shaking hands with everyone, but her bodyguard was a different story.

He was huge. Enormous! He must've been 6' 5" and weighed 350 pounds--all of it muscle! He kept the crowd moving--"Let's go, ladies!" he warned in a deep voice, "Keep it going!"

I couldn't get close, and the bodyguard moved in toward me, to help me along. He was daunting, but I was gonna get my moment. I dodged him, yelping, "I want to shake Oprah's hand!" He didn't care what I wanted, and kept trying to move me forward. Suddenly, the crowd parted, and I darted in.

There was Oprah. In person. Shaking my hand. Making my whole year.

I said something to her, but now, all these years later, I can't remember what it was. I think it was more substantial than what I said when I met my musical idol Jimmy Buffett ("Hi, Jimmy!"). I think I thanked her for being such an inspiration, and for making such difference in so many people's lives, including mine.

Or maybe that's what I planned to say, and really, I just said, "Hi, Oprah!" then giggled like a giddy little girl. That scenario is also quite plausible!

In the end, it doesn't matter much what I said. What does matter is how I felt, and how I've carried that feeling with me all these years. I'm still inspired by Oprah, still trying to make a difference in the world like she does. I haven't lived my life as large and inspirationally as Oprah, so I need to get crackin'.

But on that day, in Griffith Park, I took her positive message to heart and vowed to give it life however I could.

And not even a giant, muscle-bound, 350-pound bodyguard could stop me.