We've talked several times in this column about goals, and will do so again in the future, but today I want to talk about one specific goal that I want all of you to adopt.

When I was in my teens and early 20s, before my weight had gotten completely out of control, I made it a habit to donate blood as often as I could. However, when my weight spiraled up, I quit going. I knew that either my weight would be too high or my blood pressure would tip the scales, and I was so deep in denial that rather than go and get the bad news, I convinced myself I was too busy to donate.

Thus passed the next 15 years or so, with me getting larger and larger and the idea of donating blood fading farther and farther from my mind. It was still there, though. Every time my local TV or radio station would announce its annual blood drive, I'd feel a bit of a twinge. I held onto the last T-shirt I'd gotten, from KLOL's "Rock and Roll Up Your Sleeve" drive in Houston, long after I'd "grown out" of it.

When I started losing weight, it wasn't long before I started thinking about being able to donate blood again. However, at my max weight, 470 pounds, I was a good 120 pounds over the maximum weight allowed. I was also still avoiding doing anything about my blood pressure, convincing myself that in spite of the fact that my father has hypertension, once I lost weight everything would be hunky-dory.

Finally, after I moved to North Carolina, I found myself a doctor and submitted myself for medical treatment. While my blood pressure was high, otherwise the news wasn't bad. And the doc told me that the medication he was putting me on to bring down my pressure would not keep me from donating. I had never known that was possible. I just assumed that any blood pressure medication would knock me out of contention.

A few months ago, feeling like I was meeting with a long-lost friend but nervous that the friend wouldn't like me anymore, I made my way to a local mall for their blood drive. I filled out all the forms, read the booklet and waited for the moment of truth, when the blood-pressure cuff would tell me whether or not my "friend" still liked me.

Before I knew it, I climbed aboard the Bloodmobile and, wonder of wonders, I was cleared to donate. I was surprised at how happy the news made me. I was truly on top of the world. Of all the milestones thus far in my weight-loss journey, this was the biggest.

I don't have any deep, personal reason for wanting to donate blood. Every time there's a blood drive, we hear stories from people who have had loved ones in desperate need of donated blood at one time or another, keeping them motivated to donate regularly. So far, I've been fortunate not to have such a situation. Donating is just the right thing to do. There is no activity you can undertake, unless your job involves regularly saving busloads of kids from falling off a cliff or keeping planes from crashing, where you'll do more to save the lives of your fellow human beings.

This time of year is a great one to start donating, or even to just find out if you're eligible. With so many people on summer vacation, blood supplies are critically low. And if it turns out you're not eligible, no one is going to point and laugh. I've been consistently impressed with the lengths the blood center workers and volunteers go to keep all conversations and information private. I've never heard what was going on with another donor, and I'm fairly sure no one has ever been privy to my conversations.

So check your local paper, call your local Red Cross or visit the Web site. On the site, you can read the donor rules and find blood drives near you.

Go. Give blood. Save a life. It's that simple.

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