Thursday, August 25, 2011

What 50 Miles Should Feel Like...

On Saturday (Friday in the US), I'll be running a 50 Miler as part of the Great Naseby Water Race. It will be a very small field ~ probably only 40 people spread across the 100k, 80k (50 mile), and 60k events. It will be miniscule compared to the event I'm accustomed to doing in late August, the TransRockies Run. Several hundred TransRockies competitors are treated like royalty from start to finish, and pay quite a bit of money for this catered service.

Naseby is, well, on the opposite end of the spectrum: just a bunch of people looking to run a very long way amongst some gorgeous scenery. As you can see at left, Naseby is in the middle of nowhere, an old mining town that is distinct only in that it is the highest elevation for a municipality in New Zealand (2000 feet, not to be confused with its counterpart in the US: Leadville at 10,200 feet). It will be colder than Wellington there but should yield less wind. We'll fly down tomorrow, and I should be on the starting line at 9am, hopefully improving on my personal best of 8 hours, 23 minutes.

The picture at left, from the finish of the Tucson Marathon in December 2008, is indicative of what I'll be feeling like at the end of the run on Saturday evening. Essentially, everything will hurt, even my teeth. My head will ache and I might have trouble sitting for more than a few minutes, and getting up from sitting is like a nightmare. My best description is to liken it to a bad fever directly after losing a fight with Bruce Lee. And that's if all goes well; sometimes it can be much worse.

I love this feeling. It feels like I've accomplished something. Like whenever Indiana Jones appears beaten, bruised...he always accompanies that image with a sort of a grin, like he knew how bad it was going to be and he did it anyways. That's how I feel when I've finished a long, slow grind like a 50 miler.

And I know there's something in that. Something special. It's not just the discipline of it; that's sort of an easy concept to fixate on. I can't put my finger on it exactly, but there are moments that have been great for my development as a person. Like the last mile of the Pikes Peak Marathon (where I fell twice) or the end of Stage 3 of last year's TransRockies Run, when I towed my partner (Paul Terranova) to the finish so hard that I nearly passed out...but we held off the team just behind us for the last three miles. Finishing a hard, physical struggle like that is, in a word, pure. It's just your own effort, entirely.

Every time I get to that point where it's really hard, before I've crossed the line, I think about the severely wounded veterans that the Wounded Warrior Project assists. I know some of them. I can only imagine that my last few miles in a 50 miler would be, well, sort of an every day thing for them. And I'm just doing it for one day. That gives me strength...enough to get across the line...to that moment of personal triumph.



Monday, August 8, 2011

7 Donors, 19 Days to 50 Miles, and my Professional Obligation

I have to start with some great "100 for 200" Campaign news. We've gotten several donations over the past few weeks, and I feel compelled to pass along some thanks! MAJ Dan Hoeprich, whom I served with in Iraq, has pledged a full $1,000; Ty and Jenny Heaton, Nick and Sarah Holten, Jim Morrell, my father in law Nick and his wife Joy Viselli, and, of course, my wife Rachel and our daughter Grace Victoria (I still don't know how she got ahold of the credit card!) ~ all have sponsored me for a full mile. Each one will be a hurdle for me and it helps to know that they'll be with me.

Also, at left, you can see the 50 Miler (80kms) I'll be running in coming few weeks. This represents my qualifier for the Western States 100, so it's important! If you're interested in checking out the race, learning a little bit about what I'll be up to (it's a loop course, 8 x 10km loop...not so fun), click on the logo above to go to the race site.

The Professional Obligations of Military Officership
Having graduated from the United States Military Academy at West Point on 1 June 2002, receiving my diploma from President George W. Bush moments after he gave his "doctrine of preemption" speech, the image at left (which I came across this past week) evoked a response from me. Not, however, negative, as one might expect. I just sort of looked at it and thought about what it "spoke" to me as a professional military officer. Of course, I thought about the friends and classmates that have died in Iraq (and Afghanistan), and how many of them had passed earlier than they deserved. I think the cartoonist is trying to, perhaps, comment on the fears each cadet feels when the time for college is done and the war effort calls. It is a fairly shocking image to one with personal connections to West Point (I can only imagine that my Mom wouldn't have appreciated seeing it in 2002).

Despite the cartoon's intent, I actually take pride in this image. After a lot of general personal reflection on my place in the world, I can state with certainty that I am intensely proud of my professional obligation as a military officer to the American republic. And, a principal component of that obligation, as I see it, is that I am to always be prepared to sell my life dearly in defense of the American public, or whatever other interest they see fit for me to pursue.

My favorite professor at West Point was a retired Colonel, Dr. Don Snider. He has written a great deal on officership and its vital function as a profession in the United States. Much of what Snider wrote was based on the foundations that Samuel P. Huntington laid in his book (1957?) The Soldier and the State. Huntington wrote that "The modern officer corps is a professional body, and the modern military officer, a professional man." Huntington goes on to define professionalism in three ways: expertise (distinct body of knowledge, obedient arm of the state), responsibility (to society), corporateness (professional autonomy and separate authority).

Dr. Snider followed up Huntington's work with a number of publications, including "Army Professionalism, the Military Ethic, and Officership in the 21st Century" in 1999. It is from this monograph that I quote liberally:
"The concept of service is central to a principled understanding of officership. It holds that the profession serves the American people by providing a socially useful and necessary function: defending Americans and their interests by being schooled in war and hence able to apply effectively protective violence at their request. As noted in this monograph, this meeting of a societal need creates the moral dimension of the Army's professionalism as well as the noble character of the individual officer's service to his fellow citizens. Embodied explicitly in the commission and implicitly in the unwritten contract with society, this moral obligation requires of the officer unlimited liability, including life, as well as the moral commitment always to put service before self...To the officer, self is always to be abnegated to the higher calling through the disciplined application of moral or physical courage. A self-abnegating officer has no legacy save the character and quality of his or her service...

Secondly, just as the officer's commitment to service is grounded morally in his or her obligation to society, under our form of government it is also grounded in law, both in the Constitution and in subsequent statutes. But just because the commitment has two overlapping foundations does not mean that both are to be valued equally by the officer...within an increasingly legalistic society, the officer's reaction to crisis must always to place fulfillment of moral obligation over that of the legal obligation, even at personal or professional expense. His or her role must be to do the right thing, to pursue the right outcome on behalf of those served, American society...

Third, and last, is the issue of truth. Not only must commissioned officers always revere the truth, they must also never be in fear of it....Since the truth, as well as the absence of fear about it, cements the bond of trust between officer and society, it is always to be pursued and displayed with exceptional vigor...That means as a matter of highest principal that the officer speaks 'the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth' at all times because he or she is perpetually under moral oath, upon accepting the commission."
This is my understanding/interpretation of the obligation that military officership expects of me. I understand that it is a very high standard, maybe even an ideal type or an aspiration. But it is, in fact, how I see what I am to be and the standard to meet for my behavior on society's behalf. And, one will likely note Snider's comment that addresses the Grim Reaper cartoon: "this moral obligation requires of the officer unlimited liability, including life." That concept is tough for most people to really comprehend, I think, and reflective of why less than 1% of Americans serve in the Armed Forces in the voluntary era. Snider comments on this divide:
"...application of the principles yields attitudes and behavior often at odds with those within the society the officer has chosen to serve. Does this then mean that the officer is in any manner better than those in American society? We do not believe so. It means only that the officer is different, and has unreservedly chosen to be so."
I couldn't agree more. Officership is my choice, of my own free will. Nobody has forced it upon me, and I've had plenty of opportunity to leave the military (even taking one road out). This personal choice gives me comfort and pride in the decision, which is why, in the end, the Grim Reaper cartoon doesn't bother me in the least. Because even if, as the cartoon suggests, I had shaken hands with Hades ~ I would have done so with an immense pride and satisfaction in the life I had led, in no small part due to the service I'd rendered onto the people of the United States.