Throughlines (part 2)
In part 1, I was using the prospect of a post-deployment marathon to give focus to my running during a tour of duty in Iraq, and I was beginning to see running as a “throughline” that tied my pre-war past to my post-war future.
When I left off, we were nearing the end of a long, hot summer in southern Iraq, redeployment was imminent, and the Philadelphia Marathon was on tap for November. Then:
Here’s the rest of the story…
A redirect: Richmond
Now, instead of going home, our brigade would have a couple weeks to regroup and reconfigure at Camp Arifjan in Kuwait, then we’d move back into Iraq in support of the 82nd Airborne in Al Anbar province, west of Baghdad.
In other words, there would be no celebratory group running of the Philadelphia Marathon.
But there was one bit of conciliatory good news to go with this change of mission: a leave program, the promise of 15 days state-side. Immediately, my runner-with-a-streak-to-protect wheels were turning, and as the leave situation solidified, I settled on a new target.
Here’s the latest on my leave... I should leave Ramadi in time to get to Baltimore on about 3 Nov, if all goes right. I’ll have 15 days from whenever I get to Baltimore.
Unless you think it will be too much of a distraction, I was thinking of running a marathon while I’m home. It just so happens that the Richmond Marathon is 15 Nov, and that is generally in the area we had talked about going to, so maybe we can work that in…
—from my letter to Renee, September 24, 2003 (Wednesday)
Champion Base
A great idea, and she agreed. In the meantime, we moved on to our next mission, in Ar Ramadi. Here’s how I described things there (in letters to Renee)…
October 2, 2003: I’m at my new worksite now, in the G3 Plans section of the Div TOC. The trip here was long (3 days), but uneventful. Champion Base is easily the nicest location we’ve been to so far. The Div TOC is in a Saddam palace, and we live in a small compound on the palace grounds…
October 5, 2003: …there are lots of large trees — Mimosa, Eucalyptus, etc. — and 1/2–acre orchard with pear and pomegranate trees, and lots of date palms and even some grass. The temperatures are only in the 90s now, and it really feels like fall — the same kind of clear blue sky and crispness that we have at home.
October 7, 2003: Still very busy, and that is just how it is going to be. It is 2330 now and I just finished briefing the Chief of Staff and revising a product according to his responses… …I've been in the office like this from 0800 to at least 2300 almost every day, minus a 2–hour break in the evening when I do PT and eat. Last night I was on the walkway behind the building we sleep in a little past midnight, having a bucket-bath in the moonlight, when a mortar barrage came down near the camp right across the river from us. Not just a few rounds as is normal, but about 10 rounds in a period of 30 seconds — a coordinated effort...
Anyway, it is already the 7th, and time is just flying by.
So, long hours and busy, busy days, but there were those PT breaks, and I tried to make the most of them. The base was more than a half-mile from end to end, so my loops were larger than they’d been in our Umm Qasr compound. And there were the trees, the orchard… it was a garden spot compared to the south. I managed over 150 pre-marathon training miles there that October, and between that and those hot summer miles on the port, I was in pretty good shape.
Some of those miles were also pulling me into philosophy…
From my journal…
October 25, 2003: I have my last big run tomorrow — I ate the midnight meal tonight to try to carbo-load a little bit, and I think I’ll be fine for it. The biggest obstacle is just the course — so many little circles. Just getting out there and doing it without thinking of the boredom of it is rough. But, I’ll do it, with the help of my MP3 player and the anticipation of going home so shortly, and it will be fine.
October 27, 2003: Some thoughts about myself and my motivations and the quality of my soul… As I was grinding out mile after mile last night in the dark, on the hard pavement, with my feet hurting and thirsty and hungry, I realized that it was going to hurt, that it was dark, that no one on Earth would know if I stopped early, and no one on Earth would really care one way or the other, and that even with those facts, I was going to keep on running and do the whole 20 miles. And I asked myself why I would do that. And I asked myself if such self-discipline and such […] integrity to myself when no one is looking does anything to counter the other times when no one is looking and I do things that are much less honorable. I don’t know if it works that way at all, if there is a ledger that weighs good against bad like a scales and decides whether, on whole, you are “good” or “bad”. I think that it probably doesn’t work that way. But I think it does speak to my qualities that I am capable of both extremes…
My run last night went well. 19.6 miles, and I did it at a considerably lower heart rate and faster pace than the 18.2-miler I did 2 weeks ago. And I’m not excessively sore, and everything seems to be working right and I’m in good shape. This all bodes well for a good run in Richmond, and I’m looking forward to it.
The race
Getting out of Iraq was both an ordeal and a relief. It also provided a reminder that nothing is a given…
A piece of news (from Fallujah, of course)… Yesterday morning a Chinook was shot down — the same flight that we took a day earlier. One dead, ten injured, and that’s all I know about it, but it’s one of those close calls that really make you wonder about things and say “what if”.
— from my journal, November 2, 2003 (Sunday)
Of course I did make it to the states, and we had our blessed tease of a temporary reunion, and towards the end of that time, almost as an afterthought, I ran the Richmond Marathon.
I didn’t record much about the race itself (and I remember even less). About all I have is a paragraph in my journal from before…
November 13, 2003: This has without a doubt been the most low-key buildup to a marathon for me so far. I have done very little micro-analysis of it, very little detailed preparation. I did the runs, and I’m doing the calorie/carbo loading now, but beyond that, not much. Maybe that is the best approach, especially this year. Or maybe it is just a defense mechanism — I don’t know, and I’m not going to fret over it. What I am going to do is get the food I need tomorrow, relax a lot, prepare myself logistically, try to get to bed early and get a good night’s sleep tomorrow, and then go into the race on Saturday morning to do the best I can, and accept whatever that is.
…and one from after..
November 15, 2003: The marathon went well — in fact it is the best I’ve ever done, and I broke the 4-hour barrier finally. On top of that, it was by far the easiest […] I’ve done — mentally and physically. I still feel pretty beat-up, but it just wasn’t as brutal as the other ones I remember. So, that validates a lot of things and makes me feel very good, and makes (helps to make) the whole effort worthwhile.
(and a finish-line photo)
But later, after the good-bys, on my way back to Iraq, I put more thought into it and considered the larger context of my running, and training, and racing:
I felt good in this one — truly. I had some moments of “highness”, and I had some moments like that while I was training. There were some points during my long runs on Champion Base, in the dark, in the warm evening air under the stars and the silhouettes of large eucalyptus trees, when I could feel myself moving upward mentally, when that phrase from Chariots of Fire (”when I run, I feel His pleasure”) felt real to me, and when I was running through my physical fatigue with an honest smile on my face, my head up, my mouth open, my eyes wide in the dark. I had similar moments during the marathon, and at those points I sometimes caught my breath, and had to fight back emotional tears.
Granted, this was an emotion-laden season, but I don’t think that is the full explanation. I think it’s a product of my continued running, and my increased ability and my increased understanding of myself and my running, and its link to the basic elements of my nature.
— from my journal, November 23, 2003 (Sunday)
I think this was the moment of epiphany when I realized that this concept of running as a throughline was no longer just a romantic idea or a useful tactic for coping, but a lived physical fact that was becoming a core part of my being. I could remember it in both the distant and near past, and I could see it clearly in the future.
Having that, I could view my current situation as transient, just another thing that came and would go.
Portents of future adventures in distance
I was still many months away from the end of this tour of duty, and I was still many years away from my first ultra. But here’s more from that November 23rd journal entry:
“I found myself on a website this morning that advertised a magazine for marathoners and ultra-marathoners, and that got me thinking again about longer runs, about new challenges…
…I’m going to subscribe, and do some reading and exploring about ultras, … about what it would really take...”
Yes, the anchors were set, the throughline was there for me to follow.
I’m still following it today.
Miscellaneous…
I made my first appearance on a podcast last month — thanks to Dean Banko at Only Eye Athletics for the opportunity. We talk about a lot of things… Eastern States, the Eastern States Trail-Endurance Alliance, UTMB, my experience at Western States, volunteering, how my running experiences and military experiences relate to each other, and more… it was a good conversation that I enjoyed. You can listen on Spotify, or watch it on You Tube.