Rocky Racoon 100

The trail disappeared into the darkness. My vision was blurred and it felt like I was floating. I was vaguely aware of Wilson trying to crack jokes as we made our way through a single track section of roots and rocks. I was struggling, no doubt, but that didn’t explain the odd sensation of what I knew had to be an out of body experience. Or maybe my body was just shutting down. Whatever was happening was bad. My level of despair went up ten fold as I ran off the trail into the underbrush. My heart rate spiked and my head was pounding as I went over all the possible scenarios of my impending doom.

Despite all the horror stories, myths and legends, nothing weird or mystical really happens during the late stages of a 100 mile race. I have never seen a giant elephant suddenly appear on the trail. Ghost like visions of Bigfoot have not chased me in the middle of the night. Unicorns have not magically guided me to the finish line or the next aid station. The trees do not move. Or talk. Rocks do not turn into giant frogs and hop away. These things supposedly happen to other people but I have never experienced anything even close. Until now. Something was definitely wrong.

Let’s back this up a little…. Rocky Raccoon 100 in Huntsville, Texas. This was the race I had been training for since last February. I had pushed everything else to the side for a chance to run a sub 19 hour 100 miler. There was no doubt that my training was there, the miles and long hours of training had been logged. Everything was in place, all I had to do was show up. It was not only a race that I was comfortable with, having completed it the past 3 years, it was also the setting for the USATF National Trail 100 Mile Championship. Of course, I had no dreams of winning but I did register and agree to run under the rules set forth by the USATF just to say that I was a part of it. Seems silly but how many opportunites does an average runner like me get the chance to “compete” in a National Championship race?

So there I was once again in Huntsville State Park getting ready to run all day and night for the chance to “win” a belt buckle. Jon Wilson had agreed to crew and pace for me for the 4th year in a row. This time he would have a little help. Several members of the Idiots Running Club and Team PRS Fit had made the journey from all over the U.S. to either crew, pace or run the race. It really is an awesome feeling to finally “meet” friends that I had only previously had relationships through facebook and twitter. With three other PRS Fit teammates running their first 100 miler and all the support from our friends the outlook was promising and I was certain that we would all have a great race.

The pre race jitters began about 15 hours before the start. I’m pretty sure I only slept 22 minutes all night. I was ready to go. As we gathered at that starting line everybody seemed anxious to get started. The race director began the countdown and I couldn’t help but laugh at how much we look forward to running for 20 or more hours straight and how easy it is to forget just how hard that really is to do. With a lot of smiles, backslapping, handshaking and fist bumping, we were on our way. The first 3 miles went very smooth and we hit the first aid station right on time. Cruising through I started thinking how easy this day was going to be.

Never judge a 100 miler by the first three miles. Never. I should know that by now but naturally I got caught up in the hype of feeling really strong. The next 17 miles were uneventful other than the fact that I had kicked up my pace and was going slightly faster than I had planned. The temperatures remained cool but the humidity seemed to increase as I closed out the first 20 mile loop. My shirt was completely soaked as I hit the start/finish aid station 15 minutes ahead of schedule…. that should have been a sign for me to start thinking about my hydration and electrolyte situation. Should have been…. Instead, I just changed my shirt, sucked down some GenUCan and took off for the second loop.

I was feeling good but decided that I really needed to settle down and find a smarter pace. So I slowed down and tried to find the groove. Another 20 uneventful miles passed as the temps rose and the humidity really began to make the air thick. I was not prepared for this. I am not the best runner in hot, humid conditions and usually try to avoid long distance races in the summer time for that very reason. Determined to find that sub 19 finish time, I plugged along, putting one foot in front of the other, flying through the aid stations only refilling my water bottle and completely ignoring everything else. I was feeling good… why would I want any endurolytes, salty pretzels or Gatorade? Just keep running baby…. #EyeOnThePrize.

I was really starting to feel it at the mile 40 aid station. Of course I told everybody I was doing great. “Just need a dry shirt and I’m good to go.” Another 20 ounces of GenUCan and I was off. This time the loop was much tougher. The temps peaked around 75 but the humidity was a ridiculous 90% and the overcast sky made the course feel like a greenhouse. I was zapped by mile 50 and really struggled to finish this loop. My time was slipping but I was still within striking distance of the sub 19 finish. It wasn’t likely but I was still telling myself that I could make it. At this point, Coach Jeff made me stop at the crew station and drink some pickle juice. Yes, I said pickle juice. I slammed down at least 20 ounces because A.) I love me some pickle juice and B.) I knew that I was behind on my electrolytes. I had failed to take care of a very basic and fundamental part of endurance running. It was a stupid rookie mistake but it happened. Thankfully my crew recognized the mistake and set me on the path to correct it before it became a problem that I couldn’t come back from.

Coach Jeff ran with me for the next 12 miles and it was good to have somebody to talk to. By mile 65,  I admitted to myself that my goal had slipped away. I told Jeff that there was no way I could make a sub 19. He confirmed that I wasn’t going to make it but reassured me that I still had an opportunity to finish around 20 or 21 hours. I really appreciated his honesty because the last thing I wanted was to be fed a line of bull. Things were tough enough without clouding my head with unrealistic expectations at this point. The humidity had zapped the energy out of me along with the usual lighthearted enthusiasm that has helped me persevere through the hard miles in the past.

I had been looking forward to nightfall because I really thought it would cool down. In the past years, Texas was like another planet during the nighttime hours as the cold would set in and chill me to the bone. Not this year. My headlamp struggled to shine the path through the humidity and it was tough to keep moving. For most of the day I felt like I was swimming through the thick air but at night it felt more like I was trying to kick my way through Jello. I have never actually kicked my way through Jello but I can only assume that’s what it would be like. At mile 72, Wilson took over and we ran the next 14 miles together.

When I say we “ran the next 14 miles” I really mean we “slowly proceeded along the trail for the next 14 miles”. I can honestly say that I have never felt so defeated in my life. I could sense the time slipping away and had become content with the idea that a 23 or 24 hour finishing time would be okay. I hate to admit that I became that weak mentally but it’s the truth and it’s something I can learn from. At mile 80 my friend Norene wanted to get a picture to send to my wife. She told me to smile and I let her know that I was not going to smile because I wasn’t having fun anymore. This really disappoints me as I look back because running IS FUN and I should have been more thankful of the fact that I was on the course doing something that I really do love.

Wilson relayed a conversation that we had around mile 82. Apparently, I was talking in the third person and telling him that “David Murphy don’t be messin around. David Murphy is an ultra runner” and other nonsense like that. Now… I know that Wilson is a man of impeccable character and I’m not calling him a liar but… I don’t remember any of that. Not even a sliver of it. How is David Murphy not going to remember David Murphy talking about David Murphy in the third person? Re-donk-u-lous.

So there I was… floating. My out of body experience. I was certain that I was going blind. I told Wilson as we approached the mile 86 aid station that I was going to stop for a few minutes and figure out what was wrong. I made a promise to my wife and kids back before my first 100 miler that if I ever felt like it was too much that I would quit. This seemed to be the time. At the aid station I found a chair and sat down. Sat down. That’s something I really don’t like to do. Especially this deep into a race. My crew gathered around and I began whining about not being able to see anything. Maybe I was going to die. I’m sure I sounded like Fred Sandford… “This is the big one, Elizabeth! I’m coming to see ya!”  Thankfully, Wilson is really smart and realized that my headlamp was very dim. He changed the batteries, double checked to make sure I wasn’t going to die and told me to get going.

Changing the batteries in the headlamp made all the difference in the world. I instantly felt better as my new pacer, Ellen, took over. I figured that I would be okay even if the miracle battery thing didn’t work out because she is a doctor. Doctors save lives and stuff…. they also trip runners and blame it on “the one armed man”. As we slowly made our way around a 6 mile loop we passed a couple of runners. As soon as I went around them… .BAM. I was on the ground. In the dirt for the first time in two years on this course. I instantly accused Ellen of tripping me and she quickly blamed it on one of the runners we passed. It seems silly, corny, whatever but it was exactly the laugh I needed to bring me back from the dead.

At mile 92, Wilson rejoined me and we made our way through the final 8 miles. It was slow but much better than the previous miles we had ran together. I thought about the events of the day as we closed in on the finish line. I had truly experienced the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. This was new for me. I had, in the past, encountered some low points but never anywhere close to the lows I felt that day. The dreams and expectations of a solid sub 19 finish and a new PR had evaporated and I was disappointed. In fact, I’m still disappointed but it’s much easier to digest when put in proper perspective. I am very lucky to be able to compete in these events that I enjoy, and I do enjoy them, even a bad day is a good day in the big scheme of things. I met “new” friends and bonded with them in a very short time, making memories that will last forever. I finished in 50th place overall with a time of 21:27, earned a 5th sub 24 belt buckle, placed 25th in the Championship division and even managed to smile at the end of it all. Almost half the runners that started the race were not so lucky and had DNF’d. Definitely not the worst day of my life.

This was a fundraiser for the American Cancer Society and I am proud to say the WE raised over $1,200 for this event. I am very aware that the struggles I had that day were nothing in comparison to those that have battled the beast that is cancer. They are the ones with true endurance as they continue the fight. One day we will find the REAL finish line together and that will be cause for true celebration. Thank you to everyone that participated, donated and supported another one of my big, dumb stunts.

Motivation

"What motivates you? What REALLY motivates you?" That's an easy one. What really motivates me is.... uhhh.... errr.... well.... Could you repeat the question?

This question was posed to me some time back and I have struggled with an answer. Doesn't seem that tough really. How hard can it be to give a solid, straight forward answer to such an easy question? Obviously there is some type of motivation behind running any distance and NOBODY is running 100 milers without a clear reason. Right? Yet I found myself really searching, digging deep, looking everywhere for an answer and coming up with blanks. It seems beyond crazy that such a simple question could have me so confused and perplexed. Maybe I was over-thinking the question, getting wrapped around the axle, trying to come up with a perfect answer. Maybe I didn't really know. Or maybe I just didn't like the answers I was coming up with....

Motivation is at the very core of everything we do. Motivation is that thing that sets us off on a path leading to whatever destination or outcome we are trying to achieve. Motivation isn't the rah-rah, gun-ho, cheer-leading stuff that we read in a book of inspirational quotes or the speeches made by the head coach in our favorite movies. It is the thing that propels us into action in the first place, the drive that pushes us towards the desired outcome. It's the REASON we do something. It is an ongoing process that starts with the desire to reach a goal and continues with a persistent effort despite the many obstacles that will pop up along the journey and ends with the reward or satisfaction of completion.

Running has been, for me, a very personal journey since that very first mile back in 2006. It hasn't always been easy or fun but it has been very satisfying. In the beginning, the motivation to run was to lose weight and change my physical appearance. I did not want to run but I did want to lose weight. The motivation was to lose weight. Running was the action that I chose to make it happen. I forced myself to run in those early days and stayed persistent in my efforts to drop a few pounds. It worked. 50 lbs in less than 6 months. I had reached the goal. The motivation to continue running should have stopped then..... but, of course, it didn't.

The motivation was not to become a runner. That is just something that happened as a by-product of repetition over time and the continuously changing motivation to reach different goals. As the pounds melted off my goals began to evolve and change. I started thinking about running a 5k. I had seen these events advertised and I thought it would be a great challenge to focus on. After 5 months of running I signed up and completed my first 5k. My finishing time of 21:07 wasn't going to qualify me for the Olympics but it was good enough for an Age Group award. That was all it took. The motivation had completely changed. I no longer cared about losing weight. Now I wanted to win medals, continue to improve my personal best times and, to be completely honest, feed my ego and prove that I was still an "athlete" at 33 years old.

Medals, personal improvement, feeding my ego... that is what the motivation had become. Running was the tool but those were the desired goals. I ran more training miles, read every book, magazine and online article I could about the subject. The motivation never changed but, then again, why would it? Nobody does anything without gaining something in return. Right? I mean, what point is there in putting in all the time training if there isn't a reward? Seemed ridiculous, and reasonable, that there would ever be a reason to run that wasn't all about me.

Over the period of 4 months in early 2010, life changed drastically by a few words. You have cancer. No, I was not told this. My Dad was told this. And then, a few weeks later, my Mom heard the same news. Really? BOTH of my parents? C'mon man....  The days spent at the hospital were usually broken up by an hour or two of mind clearing running. My motivation to run had changed. I was no longer looking for medals or personal bests. I was looking for answers and a way to preserve my own sanity. As I ran on those long, dark days I always felt just a bit guilty. I mean, what exactly was running going to do to help the situation? The short answer was nothing. Running was not helping. The long answer was that it could help. With the right focus and a persistent effort, running could help.

Fast forward through the 5k's, 10k's, half-marathons, marathons and 50k's to early 2010. I found myself climbing the rugged trail up Pinnacle Mountain during the Ouachita 50 miler. This was my first 50 mile race and the reasons for running this day were very clear. I was carrying an Honor Scroll with almost 200 names of people that had been touched by cancer. Among those listed were both of my parents. Sure I was still looking to run for a medal and a great finishing time, to say that I wasn't would be a lie, but I was also running for a cause much bigger than myself and that was huge moment in my life. I ran hard that day and came in 3rd overall. I will always credit the names of those on the Honor Scroll for carrying me through the toughest parts of the trail.

Since that first 50 miler, I have been on a mission to raise money and awareness for the American Cancer Society through my running. My motivation, like so many of you, is to see a world without cancer. One of the tools for me in achieving this goal is my ability to run long distances. Do not get me wrong. I like to run 50 and 100 milers. I love to earn a new medal, belt buckle or trophy. My ego loves knowing that I can push myself when it gets really tough and the trail becomes a dark place that sucks the energy from my soul. These are things that motivate me on a narrow and self-centered scale. To say otherwise would be dishonest. Those are absolutely a part of why I wake up at 2 a.m. in order to get a 15 or 20 mile run in before work or why I run 30 and 40 milers on the treadmill on a Saturday morning when the rest of the world is sound asleep. But an equally important part of why I do it is so that I can somehow make a difference in the fight against the beast that is cancer.

Eye On The Prize... How many times a week do I post that on facebook or twitter? How many times a day to I tell myself or those around me the same thing? Those four little words are a simple reminder of why I am always tired, why I am training when sleep sounds much better, why I am always sore, why I NEED to train. The prize is what motivates me. The prize is many different things. The only prize that really matters is a world where cancer is irrelevant. A world where my kids don't have to worry about this monster. A world where nobody has their world turned upside down by those three words, "You have cancer".

On February 1, 2014 I will be running the Rocky Raccoon 100 miler in Huntsville, Texas. This will be my 5th 100 miler and I hope to run a personal best. I know the trail will get tough. I know the day will be long and there will be many low points and even a few times that I will want to quit. I also know that it really pales in comparison to the battles fought on a daily basis by those affected by cancer. I have the option of quitting at any time without any real or meaningful repercussions. They do not have that luxury. As always they are the motivation pushing me toward the real prize. If I come up short on my personal time, If I struggle and fall short that will be okay. Those goals are secondary. I will keep my Eye On The Prize no matter what the day brings.

This is the part where I ask, again, for your help. Please consider donating $10, or merely one shiny dime per mile, to the American Cancer Society through my Relay for Life page. I really don't have anything to offer in return other than the promise to do my best during the race and to continue fighting, with all my heart and every fiber in my body, to secure a future where cancer is just a word and not a relevant disease. - See more at: http://runlikeamug.blogspot.com/2013_01_01_archive.html#sthash.D9vcE8Ww.dpuf

This is the part where I ask, again, for your help. Please consider donating $10, or merely one shiny dime per mile, to the American Cancer Society through my Relay for Life page. I really don't have anything to offer in return other than the promise to do my best during the race and to continue fighting, with all my heart and every fiber in my body, to secure a future where cancer is just a word and not a relevant disease. - See more at: http://runlikeamug.blogspot.com/2013_01_01_archive.html#sthash.D9vcE8Ww.dpuf

This is the part where I ask, again, for your help. Please consider donating $10, or merely one shiny dime per mile, to the American Cancer Society through my Relay for Life page. I really don't have anything to offer in return other than the promise to do my best during the race and to continue fighting, with all my heart and every fiber in my body, to secure a future where cancer is just a word and not a relevant disease. - See more at: http://runlikeamug.blogspot.com/2013_01_01_archive.html#sthash.D9vcE8Ww.dpuf

This is the part where I ask for your help. I'm asking for donations of one dime per mile, $10 total, to the American Cancer Society via the Relay for Life. Last year the Idiots Running Club raised over $8,800 to fight back. This year we hope to raise $10,000. If you have a local team, I highly encourage you to become involved. If you do not have a local team and would like to join ours - we would love to have your support. You can join the IRC Team here -----> JOIN NOW

Click HERE to donate to my Relay for Life Page


Or HERE to donate via paypal

So Simple....

I could hear the music and the occasional roar of the crowd. I was close. So close. Looking at my watch in disbelief it was evident that a PR was within my grasp. I crossed the finish line of the 2013 Rocky Raccoon in 19 hours and 37 minutes. Not blazing fast in the big scheme of things but still much faster than I had run it the previous two years. Simple changes had brought me to this goal. The biggest and simplest change was working with Jeff Kline, founder and head coach of PRS Fit, who was waiting for me at the finish line. He had transformed me from a "no plan having, run fast all the time, get injured, rest, repeat" type of runner that laughed at HR training and training plans into a "go slow, have a plan, heart rate training, don't get injured" believer that had just run the best, and easiest, 100 miler of my life. I quickly, and maybe got a little carried away, set the goal of running sub 19 at the 2014 Rocky Raccoon. But first... I was going to crush a 50 miler in a few short months.

Of course, as things tend to go with me, I failed to remember that the key to ultra running, or running in general, is rest. Sometimes I want to do it all and think that I am Superman's long lost cousin. By the time the Ouachita 50 miler rolled around in April, I was completely burnt out. Mentally, more than physically, this race that I loved so much and had pretty decent success in, was very hard. I struggled to carry the Honor Scroll across the rugged terrain and felt very lucky to finish. I was disappointed by the result but was also completely aware of why I had such a tough day. It's always simple for me to place the blame squarely on my own shoulders when I screw up because, in the end, I am responsible for my own decisions. That and  Coach Jeff had warned and advised me about the perils of over training but, as a friend, he knew just how important the Honor Scroll run was for me and didn't call me too many bad names.

Naturally, I thought I could handle back to back "A" races when, in fact, I really couldn't. The "crash" at Ouachita really got me thinking about things I done in the past. A few years ago, for example, I ran a very fast 50k followed by back to back sub 3 marathons. All were PR's and I thought I had it figured out. Really didn't buy into the idea that I was over racing. Of course, I came out injured but I had some shiny new PR's. Was it worth it? Maybe... still not sure. There is a lot of questions in my head about how much better I could have done if it had only been one race instead of three. I do know that it is relatively easy to run events every weekend but it is much tougher to run a race every weekend. Maybe I will revisit the marathon distance with a clear focus one day just to find out what I can do. Maybe.

It's amazing just how much about running comes down to trial and error, learning from mistakes and figuring out exactly what we want from this dumb little hobby. After the blow up at Ouachita I decided that what I really want from running at this point in the evolution is to run 100's. Not just run 100's but to run 100's up to my maximum potential. It was almost like the fog lifted and things became very clear. My training needed to be more focused and goal oriented. Veering from the path, chasing shiny objects, as I had done so many times in the past, had to be eliminated. Previous goals, thoughts and plans for the fall racing season would have to change.

Dogwood Canyon is a very difficult 50k. I love it more every year. It is also a really fun fundraising experience. Nothing better than running 31 miles over the steepest trails around in a pink tutu. My original plan was to shoot for the podium. Big stretch but I had some success in the past at this event so it wasn't completely a stupid goal. About a month before the race I had a thought.... What if I ran it completely by heart rate and didn't worry about pace? How much would the outcome change if I kept it under control and never left an easy training zone? Would I come in last place? Would I avoid the bonk that always comes on this ridiculous course? Would my recovery be any faster?

I had been training by HR for over a year but had never truly tested it during an event like this. I wanted to know if what I thought I understood was actually true and answer a few lingering questions. Was my endurance base big enough to run a 50k at 70-75% effort without bonking? How would my overall time compare to my past "all out" times on this same course? Would I struggle with keeping my heart rate low enough on the uphill portions? What about recovery? Seemed silly that, while I have read many articles and books on the subject, I had never actually put it to a strict test. So it was set. Run the 50k, with crazy steep hills, entirely in my "Zone 2" heart rate. No straying on the downhills, no "going for it" on the flats, walking the hills if it began to creep up and not looking at the overall pace until after the race. This was going to be as much a mental test as it was physical because, like most runners, I tend to be a little competitive....

The results of the Dogwood Canyon 50k were very pleasing and hard for me to comprehend. I kept the HR in check by running slower than I wanted, walking at times when I did not want to and by reminding myself repeatedly that I was NOT racing. In the end, I crossed the finish line with a time that was less than 20 minutes slower than I had originally set as my goal "race time" and felt much better than I ever had at the end of this brutal course. I didn't make the podium but it was a top 10 finish. Not horrible considering.....

I tested this again two weeks later at the Bass Pro Marathon and finished in 3 hours 20 minutes. Just over 20 minutes slower than my PR at this event. The course was slightly different for my PR so it's hard to completely compare results but I do know this... I felt like I could run the course again and I have never felt like that after a marathon. What now... Two weeks later I paced a friend at the White River Marathon. He was looking for a PR of around 3:30. Once again, I ran strictly by HR and kept it in my "Zone 1" for the entire distance. We finished in 3:31, he claimed a shiny new PR and I had answered all questions about whether HR training works. It does. I had always struggled in the late stages of any long distance event regardless of how hard or easy the effort. Recovery time was never fast, no matter what I claimed on twitter or facebook, and injuries generally followed. Not this time. No bonking. Recovery time? None. It was just "normal" training at this point.

I finished 2013 with 2,624 miles, one giant PR, zero injuries, a new understanding of what I want out of running and a map of how to get there. The Idiots Running Club has grown to ridiculous numbers and even managed to get a little ink in the December issue of Runner's World magazine. I love that dumb little club a little more each day. I was also fortunate enough to be selected as a new coach for the PRS Fit team. I was very honored that Coach Jeff extended this opportunity and it makes me proud that he believes in my ability to take on the job. Watching others achieve their goals has always been my favorite part of this dumb sport and I am very excited to have the opportunity to help become a part of the process. Team PRS Fit and the Idiots Running Club have brought some amazing changes to my life and the future is filled with unlimited potential for 2014.

So... What now?  Rocky Raccoon 100 is just a few weeks out and I still have dreams of cracking a sub 19 hour finish. It will be tough and may not happen but I feel like I am ready and the goal is completely realistic. Of course, 100 milers are tricky beasts and you can never really know what the day or course will bring. I do know that I am prepared. and there will be a bigger number of Idiots in Huntsville this year than ever before which is really cool.  The PRS Fit Team will have 4 of us (all card carrying members of the IRC) running and have been generously sponsored by GenUCan and Altra Shoes. In my estimation, Altra Shoes are the best shoes on the planet and GenUCan works as advertised. I have been experimenting, testing and looking for flaws with this product over the past few months and can find none. Aid stations can be a killer during 100's. It is easy to waste valuable time trying to get a cup of soup or deciding "sure I have time to wait while you cook a grilled cheese" - I hope to eliminate some of this by using UCan products.

Rocky Raccoon will also be a fund raiser for the American Cancer Society as it has been the past few years. I will post information on how to donate (a mere dime per mile) and how you can join the Idiots Running Club Relay for Life Team (and get one of those cool IRC Relay Ribbon T-Shirts) soon. Any help you can give is appreciated more than you know. The money we raise each year grows, last year we raised $8,800 total, and I am extremely proud to be a part of something so much bigger than myself. The idea that we can and do make a difference in the fight against the beast that is cancer remains the biggest motivation and driving force behind any of this silly running stuff. To one day live in a world without cancer is the EYE ON THE PRIZE.

Thankful.....

I was born on Flag Day, raised with the Pledge of Allegiance and listened with pride to the stories of family members that served in World War II and Vietnam. I grew up in the 70's and 80's during the Cold War, a time when schools had routine drills for nuclear war, and I watched in relief as the Iranian Hostages were freed, looked on in horror when 220 US Marines lost their lives in Beirut, cheered when "The Wall" came tumbling down and was shocked during the Tiananmen Square Massacre. Looking back now it is easy to understand my unwavering loyalty to the Stars and Stripes.

Superman has always been, by far, my favorite Superhero. Not because he can fly or has x-ray vision. No, that stuff is really cool and I have tried to both fly and see through.... uhhhh.... stuff but for me it was the whole, "Truth, Justice and the American Way" thing. From the earliest age I loved that he would save the world but always remained loyal to the good old USA. Crazy, I know but that was always what I loved most about the Man of Steel. Of course, I wanted to be Rambo and Maj. McCoy at different times too. As a child back in "the day" there was no shortage of war hero movies and all of this cemented the notion in my young brain that it was not only a great honor but a responsibility to serve.

Coming out of high school, I had no idea that I would join the USMC. In fact, it was a fluke that I even enlisted. The first Persian Gulf war was all over TV and coming to an end when I made the move. I remember driving home from my part-time-turned-full-time job and without much thought found myself pulling into the parking lot of the Armed Forces Recruiting Building. As I walked in, I recalled the stories of a few of my Dad's friends who were former Marines. Without hesitation I walked in and told the Recruiting Sergeant that I was ready to enlist. I'm sure this was the easiest "sell" he had ever had. I left with an appointment for a physical and ready for the swearing in ceremony.

My time in the Marines was nothing special as I was never in a combat zone, dodged bullets or had the overwhelming fear that I might, at any time, die. I remember volunteering for deployment to Somalia and Bosnia on more than one occasion. One time in particular stands out. I was, once again, asking to be deployed when a Corporal, who was only a year or two older than I was and just returning from his 3rd trip to Somalia came in. With a hardened and haunted look he told me plainly enough that I shouldn't ask to go if I wasn't ready to give it all. He had a chest full of medals, one of which was the Purple Heart, and the no-nonsense tone of a person that revealed he was the "real deal" and not a character in a Hollywood movie. As I look back, now 20 years later, I am thankful that my journey didn't take me to these places even though I thought that's what I needed to do at the time.

That Corporal, among many other grizzled and very honorable combat veterans remain constant and steady VOICES as I go through life. When I began running back in 2006, there was never a thought that I would run 26.2, 50 or even 100 miles one day. But there was the knowledge that I could if I so desired. There would be nobody to stop me but myself. Nothing in my way. No governmental intrusion or law preventing me from fulfilling my dreams. The VOICES of those that have served and sacrificed their lives to ensure that our freedom is secure fill my head on daily basis in everything I do. They are the reason that I teach my children to stand up when the National Anthem is playing, to respect our flag and say the Pledge of Allegiance without fear or shame. I fly the flag, have a picture of the Marines at Mt. Suribachi on my wall, support our troops regardless of politics and thank a veteran when I meet them. I am proud to live in the shadow they cast.

Today is Veterans Day. The day we celebrate and honor the GREAT men and women that have served in an effort to keep this country the Home of the Free and the Land of the Brave. I am extremely honored and humbled that they are willing to risk their lives so the rest of us don't have to. From the Battles of Lexington and Concord to the Mountains of Afghanistan they have served and died for our nation. I am eternally grateful and hopeful that I can live my life in way that honors the gift they have left behind.