So there are lots of running events this week and next. The Friday 5K is moved from 530 AM to 4 PM and we are doing a 5K or 10K, runner’s choice (you just run the 5K loop twice for the 10K). Hell, I think there are even bibs and tees for that one. Then there is the Native America Heritage Run on Thanksgiving morning and of course the Friday 5K on the 28^th, at 530 AM, I assume.

I really love running races; it’s just fun to run with other people. I am not fast enough to be competitive, just with myself.  Maybe I am a social runner, somewhat at least. I know people who run for the sake of running and never pin a bib on, which I totally understand; it’s just nice to know there are people out there which enjoy the sport as much as I do – if not more. When you tell your buddy you just ran 10 miles and they respond with the ole, “I would run that far if I was being chased.”  You know that is usually the end of any meaningful running conversation. And it doesn’t mean you don’t like them or anything, it’s just nice being around people you don’t have to explain yourself too or that make nasty comments about Body Glide for that matter.

So I am going a little marathon crazy. I can think of like four marathons I want to run next year: Little Rock, Lincoln, NYC, and White Rock. Maybe I’ll reel it in a little, but hell you only live once. I also have this nagging desire to run an Ultra or two. There is the Arkansas Traveler which is a 24 hour, 100 mile race in the Ozarks – this would put me in for the Western States – which is the ultimate goal of course. I mean that belt buckle is awesome.

Anyways, enough about next year, I have at least three races in the next week-and-a-half to help the time pass. By the way we do, do more than just run around in circle on COB Adder, but if you give me a free hour a day, that’s what I am going to do.

As you know I am deployed and serving in Iraq, but this happened on my R & R leave a few weeks ago.  As embarrassing as it is, I have to share.  On a trip to the Buffalo River valley to visit a friend’s family place I took an early morning run through the valley from Boxley to Ponca, Arkansas and back.  It’s about 6 or 7 miles round trip and relatively flat despite being smack in the middle of the Ozarks.  To put you in the right frame of mind, imagine the most scenic place in Arkansas, (before you judge, remember I have been running the same route around COB Adder for months so to me this place is it), a hot, sultry summer morning (again, not Iraq hot but hot), and still green as spring through the hard wood covered valley.

All this and I am running through it. For whatever reason, my body didn’t work right when I woke up that morning.  There was no taking care of business before departing, which sort of breaks my golden rule to begin with, but I want out despite.   And of course about a mile into this run, my processes began.  I’m running thought some of the prettiest county I have literally seen in what seems a lifetime and all I can do is worry about my impending event.  I focused on a single thought, “oh God what am I going to do?”  My plan was to carry on to my turn-a-round point at Ponca and find a campsite bathroom – with, God yes, TP.  But, some things aren’t meant to be and for me that morning a convential restroom stop wasn’t one of them.

Once the moment hit it was all I could do to run off the road on a little trail leading down the side of wooded hill, find a somewhat secluded place, and make like a bear.  Obviously I wasn’t expecting to ruff-it on the trail when I left that morning.  No TP, it was a mess, and at least 3 miles from where I was staying.   At this point I wasn’t sure if I could get clean enough to run back and certainly not hitch a ride except maybe in the bed of a pick-up.  While in the squatting position, luckily a moment of clarity presented itself.  In the distance, just a little awkward toddle down the trail, the crystal clear waters of the river run just beyond a fence and a private property sign which simply read, “No Camping”.

It took some doing but I found a 4^th of July 4 Miler being run here on good ole COB Adder. Someone just about dropped the ball on putting information out about this race but we figured it out all the same. I don’t think I have ever really run a 4 miler fun run, but I am down with about any halfway organized run, all I need is a good night’s sleep. Which no doubt never happens for me, but I was determined to sleep before this one. So I had a plan… I turned my lights out, TV off early and went to bed – not so much. What do I do, toss and turn all night. I don’t sleep well the night before a race to begin with and in a combat zone, I apparently do not sleep well either; so combine those two factors and I basically lay in bed all night desperately seeking R.E.M. sleep. With 3 alarms set I stayed in there on my back, side, or stomach until about 5:20 a.m. when my watches and clock all started to chime. I got up and out about 10 minutes later, and with my buddy Joel in tow headed to the starting line. Considering it wasn’t very well advertised, we had a good turnout of runners.

The race began promptly at 6 a.m. and the weather was perfect. I lined up in the back of the pack, tired and unmotivated. The mass of service members in PT uniforms each with a reflective belt around the waist began to inch forward, somewhere instinct must have just kicked in. I fought my way to the left side of the road. I was out of the pack, and finally able to stretch it a minute.  Then my body took over. Just past the first quarter-mile-maker the road opened up. I knew I wasn’t going to set a PR today, but I knew I came to run too.  I crossed mile one marker in just over 7 minutes. My little voice was telling me to run a 10-miler pace, or what I envision my marathon pacing should be. Anyway, I am feeling great at this point, mile one, and by mile two I was in the groove.

This was a there and back. I took water at mile 2, turned for the return stretch, and pushed on just under 15 minutes. Mile 3 hit at about 22:30. My 5K is in the 21s but I wasn’t running my 5000 pace today. My plan before the race was to pick it up at 3.5 miles but instead I remained steady to my pace, listened to the little voice, and finished the run in just under 30 minutes. This is clock time not chip time. There were no numbers, no bibs, no t-shirts, and even no Gatorade or oranges at the end.  Just a guy with a watch calling out times and those orange Igloo coolers with the white spout filled with cool, cool water. 

 This is my logic: it is all about pace. I can run the 10 miler in 1 hour 15 minutes. With that being said it stands to reason the 20 miler in 2 hours and 30 minutes, the 24 mile marker at 3 hours and maybe 26.2 in 3:15 – I realize this is shaving almost 25 minutes off my PR in the marathon which is huge, but shit you got to have dreams especially over here. Some people dream about all kinds of things to do or buy after a deployment – I just want to run Boston (for real this time).

Personally I loved running the 4 miler, July 4, 2008, on COB Adder, but with any luck next year I will have laid this bog to rest and will be setting a PR in the 5,000 meter – CONUS (Continental United States).

Admin Footnote: It is out nation’s 232^nd birthday.  The Air Force Sponsored a 4 mile MWR run on COB Adder. Service members from the Air Force, Army, and Navy participated. All were done, headed to the showers by 6:45 a.m. and putting the respective service uniforms on shortly thereafter. Those of who didn’t just get off work headed to do whatever job the military requires them to do.  I ask the few who reads this to remember what history tells us happened on July 4, 1776, and those people, a lot them just kids, who everyday actively defend that Declaration, the Constitution and the ratified amendments therein.

So how do I stay motivated?  Let’s face it; you have to be motivated to run 35 miles a week.  Besides the fact I am clearly an addict and feel terrible if I don’t run; now I look to the iTunes for motivation– this week I found some in vintage punk.  I am talking the good shit from the 70’s and 80’s. Dead Kennedy, Clash, Iggy Pop, The Ramones, Pattie Smith, The Damned and the list goes on.  In an age when everything old is new again I slip into my dirty Gel Nimbus 9s and head to the gym or hit the road with good tunes to stay motivated.  Listening to this music with its smooth quick beats not only moves me at an 8 minute mile, but is like going to a yard sell and finding a old Nikon SLR 35mm camera in perfect condition for like $10. As soon as you touch it, you instantly remember how to use it but it takes on a different context in today’s post modern world. 

My little secret is out not only am I addict to running but I can’t get enough of the iTunes either.  It’s so bad I had to purchase Apple stock to justify the expense and now my iTunes indulgence can be lead to Wall Street profits too – if that is really possible in this day and age. Well that’s. In the land of the unmotivated I stay motivated to run my revamping my music at every chance I can get.

The race itself began promptly at 4 am or 0400 GMT +3 for the military types. My race day began about 0320 when I rolled out of by bunk and ate a couple of oat meal cookies. I brought the chewy oatmeal raisin treats back to my trailer the night before from the DFAC. Also, I carried a few of gel packs in a waist band pouch and ate those at miles 17 and 20 and 22 of the run.

If you have never lined up for a marathon at 4 am in the middle of a combat zone you don’t know what you’ve been missing. In the back of my head I kept picturing Robert Duval in a blue cavalry hat spouting, “Charlie don’t run,” as I stood on the line that morning. It was a surreal experience hearing the runner’s chatter before the race began. It was the same stuff you hear before every race every else in the world. Someone was talking about the all the miles they ran, another runner was contenplainting all the weight they lost in preparation for race day, and most everyone was deliberating their expected time, sub 3:30 or anything under 4 hours. I had only been in Iraq for a couple weeks at that time and I was kind of concerned about indirect fire during the run. Looking back a month now, I realize the whole thing was weird.

The wind that day was terrible and the roads were rough, most are dirt and scattered with small rocks. At about miles 3 into it we were off the main post. It was pitch black outside with the exception of a few chemical lights lining the road and the distant illumination of a bonfire at an aid station or water point – yes, I said bonfires at the aid stations. Actually it was creepy and I felt like I was so far from civilization, the world was over, and we were all lost souls running wildly down the last road to safety.

My 13.1 came before 6 am. There were a lot of halfers. As a mater of fact when I completed the first loop it seemed no one kept running except me. I saw a couple of marathoners in front of me but I passed them about mile 17. This was the first race I wasn’t passed on the back-half. There weren’t thousand of runners to pace and thousands spectators lining the streets. There was no Heartbreak Hill between miles 20 and 21 and unfortunately no Boston College coeds to cheer the runners on to the finish. I didn’t even have to post a qualifying time to enter, but there was a 112^th BAA medal at the end. I hung is around my neck and walked quietly back to my trailer when it was over.

I am very glad I ran it since I didn’t run the LR marathon this year. Marathoning in Iraq is something I might not do again. The next race I run, I want it to be after months of planning, prepping, and eating right. This race I just showed up and ran. Literally, I arrived in Iraq on 1 April then ran the race on the 19th. As a mater of fact, the day of the marathon I was briefing the squadron command and staff by 1020 that morning, less then 2 and a half hours after the run. I was barely standing but I did it all the same.

I have lined up for a lot of races over the past few years: some 5Ks, 10Ks, several marathons, and even a half-marathon or two. Hell, I have line up in Olympic Trail qualifying races. I have been on the line with some amazing runners and some fast runners, but I don’t think I have ever lined up with better people then I did that morning.

The Boston Marathon is was not, but I still got the t-shirt.

So if I miss the morning run window, at some point in the afternoon I have to begin thinking about when I am going to make the run.  I am actually having conversations about important stuff, but unconsciously I am thinking about getting out of the office and on the road or at least a treadmill or something.  God forbid, if someone walks up, asks me about a fiber optic run from one end of post to another and I am really thinking about my run across post…..I mean the hell with the fiber run, what about my run? I am kidding of course, but sub-consciously not really. Every runner out there knows this whether they admit it or not.  That’s the whole thing about runners isn’t it? ….it’s all about the run.  Runners know this to be true, because they ask, “How was your run?” or “Did you get your run in?” or you see them out and you just know they got their run – they can deal with the rest of the world and it will be ok.  It is like you are checking on the children, “Yeah, Timmy is OK; he got a B in English,” or something.  

All in all the military is pretty conducive to running and most other types of physical training.  It really has to be doesn’t it?  Some folks are more motivated then others which seem to be the case outside the military too.  I have to admit my weakness – sometimes, there is a breakdown of diet, just for the simple fact of all the food being served our troops. No soldiers will go hungry in Iraq.

 Speaking of meals at our lovely Iraqi Dinning Facilities, I hate to miss the evening meal, mainly, because I don’t have a kitchen in my living area – this is another problem all together.  This drives the main reason don’t run to much at night, I can’t eat the dinner meal until I’ve run.  So for now, I am a morning runner in search of their morning person.

* Side note: Operational tempo, or op-tempo if you will, upon arrival has impaired my ability to pen my blog; however, I enjoy the thought process and I plan to continue with great fervor through the deployment in Iraq.  And, for those concerned, my blogging may be in the corner for now, no one puts running in the corner.

If one was to find the majesty of God in the desert it would have to be at sunrise. This has been my time to run each and every morning while here in this place. It’s cool and the humidity is low unlike where I was running before. The sun rises quick over the Kuwaiti sands and lifts into the sky like some orange harvest moon giving the world a warm light that always make me pause for a minute as I round the far perimeter of the camp. I never seem to get the U2 song In God’s Country out of my head when I run basking in the glow of the awaked Earth. There is something about the isolation of this place, especially on my morning runs, which makes me extremely spiritual. But that fades fast as the temperature is climbs to 100 plus degrees by 13:00 (one in the afternoon) on this the 5th day of spring. It is about that time, I realized just why the Army sends units to the Kuwaiti desert before entering Iraq – it makes soldiers tough because the desert is tough and Iraq is tougher yet. Still though, it is a good run and I am addicted.

I don’t know why this place seem so surreal to me now, maybe it’s that I have been stripped of everything over the past few months. What’s left for me now is running – of course I will be proactive in my job and be the best officer I can be, but that is what I give the Army. I keep the running for myself. For now the dirt paths on a very remote Army post in the sands of the Kuwaiti desert are the unpaved roads I run.

As I preparing to leave for Kuwait and then to Iraq these are only some of the puzzles which rack my brain during my afternoon runs in mighty Mississippi. I never really had the problem of unchecked cognitive activity while running before arriving here (not that it is a problem). Up until now I have been tuning-in and tuning-out, and suddenly through no fault of my own I have turned off the iPod to discover many-a-question racing through my brain as I consume my daily miles.

I cannot claim personal epiphany or any such awaking to make me put down the white ear buds. To own-up, I ran the White Rock Marathon in Dallas this past year wearing my iPod which is clearly against marathon rules. (I am one to live on the edge at times.) Anyway, apparently MP3 players are a no-no on military installations while walking, running, or any pace between. (I am convinced there is an MP3 Nazis somewhere in the big Army and he’s clearly so not a runner).  

Now I go my 5 to 7 miles, or whatever distance, without any tunes. The neurons fire with ever increasing intensity the faster I run, of course the corollary effect – all these questions unanswered. I can’t really define what a runner is. I know I am a runner, as some people know they are Christians or Muslims I suppose. I just can’t really define the act of becoming a runner as clearly as most people define themselves in the context of their religions.

I confess, that I often think running is my religion. It just seems I woke up one day, or better yet awoke in more of the spiritual term, to realize I embrace the religion of running. Clearly I didn’t set out to be this way….addicted. I just ended up here like some sort of junkie that started out smoking of the pot a few years back and am now some sort of crack-head. My hits come from a road and not some glass pipe. Clearly this is addiction, just considerably a healthier one, but a monkey on the back all the same. Which, I will have to carry to Iraq and back. And, somewhere along the journey I hope to answer a few questions too and maybe define what exactly it means to be a runner.

During this deployment it is my goal to continue running and stay a part of a running community. What this blog is: my attempt tell others (mainly other runners) the experience of maintaining a 30+ mile a week habit in a deployed environment.

What is blog is not: a political manifesto against the war, my command, or US foreign policy. It is what it is. I cannot be really for or against; I can only do my job to the best of my ability and run.

So, here is goes: the first month of the mobilization to Camp Shelby, MS, was and is a struggle to maintain any decent mileage. Physical fitness takes a back-seat to training – I struggle to understand this philosophy; however, without question I drive on. In the civilain world when I am not on military orders, I have managed to maintain a solid 25 to peaking at about 40 miles-per-week habit. I do this my running a 5.3 mile loop in my neighborhood, some treadmill work at my local gym, and a long run between 10 and 22 miles on Sundays.

My first four weeks on the ground at Shelby I have been lucky to catch a three miler early in the morning and that is only from time to time. I have been really struggling with this and without a doubt feeling very depress about my situation. On more than one occasion this past month I have really been questioning my life and what has brought me to this situation, which seem to be more or less a train wreck. But entering my forth week sometime profound happened; I was able to put together several decent runs.

Super Bowl Sunday 2008, training slowed down and I was able to pull together a 6.25 mile around post… no runs on Monday or Tuesday. Two days is about where the mental breaking down begins. Hark, on Wednesday I got some treadmill time – about 5+ at an 8 minute mile pace but I ran the first 5000 about a 7:30 mile. On Thursday I ran my loop around post the same as Sunday for another 6.25 miles and it was back to the gym on Friday where I picked up 5 at a sub 8 minute mile pace on the treadmill.

Saturday morning I found my window. About 9 am or 0900 military time I was able to ease-off  and put my physical fitness uniform and my silver and blue Asics Gel Nimbus 9s on and hit the road. In southern Mississippi it is warm and sunny this week and smells of pine trees. Great weather for February or any other time of the year for that mater. I was able to run the 6.25 mile loop again. If you are counting – which I always do I picked up about 27.5 miles this week at beautiful Camp Shelby, MS, and I feel I am a runner reborn.