Cherry

In the Winter of 1983 I was a “five jump chump”, having recently graduated from Airborne School at Ft. Benning, Ga. After a two week leave back home, I checked into the 82^nd Replacement Detachment, the “repple depple” on Ardennes St Ft. Bragg, NC. Upon my arrival I was immediately immersed in the airborne culture. I learned that all non-airborne qualified personnel ie…those that had never jumped out of a perfectly good airplane were known as “legs.” This was a pejorative term taken from the longer phrase of “straight leg infantry” as opposed to the airborne infantry. Being a new guy and never having jumped with “Division” I was now known as a “Cherry”. You can figure out what that means. Legs were to be hated and reviled; Cherries were to be messed with and made to do stupid things for the amusement of Sergeants. “Hey Private, go to the motor pool and get me a box of grid squares” or “Private, I need batteries for my canopy lights, make it happen.”

At the replacement detachment I endured numerous formations, inspections etc.. while I in processed the unit. All TA-50 was issued and accounted for; berets were shaved and properly formed so as not to look like a pizza delivery man. Brass was shined and so were jump boots. In the evenings I got my first taste of freedom since before I had joined the Army. Once we checked out with the charge of quarters we were allowed to go anywhere we wanted, we just had to be back for the 2200 hours curfew. Being 19 and new in town I of course explored all the wonders of Hay Street and its surrounding area. At the time Hay Street probably had more per capita strip clubs and Korean hooch bars than anywhere on the east coast. It boasted Rick’s Lounge that was legendary amongst the airborne and special operations community for its entertainment and beer specials. Quite the eye opener for a not yet jaded young man from Iowa.

After about 2 weeks I received my permanent orders, I was to report to the 1st Battalion 325^th Airborne Infantry Regiment for further reassignment. The 325^th AIR had the unique distinction of having been straight leg infantry in WWI then glider infantry in WWII. When gliders become obsolete the 325^th was converted to parachute infantry. What was unique was that due to its heritage this regiment retained the moniker “airborne infantry” as opposed to the two other regiments in division that were designated parachute infantry regiments.

So I reported to the 1/325 personnel administration center or PAC and was handed over to a company representative. As an 11C or indirect fire infantry man I was to be assigned to Weapons Platoon B Company 1/325. At the time the Weapons Platoon employed the 81mm mortar and consisted of three gun squads and a headquarters section/Fire Direction Center. I was to learn all this stuff later, currently my entire company was out on a field exercise and they would be returning in a week. Meanwhile I was introduced to the rear detachment non commissioned officer in charge who promptly put me and the two other cherries to work painting the barracks hallways. So I spent my first week as a United States Paratrooper scrubbing walls and stirring paint buckets.

Eventually my new platoon mates returned from wherever they had been and they pressed me into service cleaning gear and squaring away the platoon area. I was in a sensory overload situation trying to learn all the new names and seeing where I was in the platoon pecking order. My new squad leader let me know that right away. “You’re my ammo bearer, so shut up and carry ammo.” Roger that Sergeant!!!!

After everything was squared away we were given the warning order that we would be returning to the field the following Monday to participate in a joint field exercise with the armor battalion. After all the troops were released for the weekend I spent a sleepless two days of nervous energy getting together the gear I thought I would need for my first training exercise and my first jump in division. My squad leader gave me some advice but I was mostly left to my own devices. Monday morning dawned bright and early. At 0200 the members of my platoon were outside in the company formation area participating in pre-jump training in anticipation of our parachute infiltration into the training area. Parachute landing falls were completed,malfunction procedures were repeated and actions in the aircraft were rehearsed  in a drill that would become very familiar to me over the next 22 years. This time however, I listened in a high state of alertness in nervous anticipation of the jump ahead.

Eventually the deuce and a half trucks arrived to shuttle us to “Green Ramp” on Pope Air Force Base. Upon arrival we were issued our T-10 parachutes complete with the infamous “dial of death.” Surprisingly this was something familiar. This was the same equipment I had been trained on in jump school. I donned my parachute and a jumpmaster inspected my equipment then instructing me to sit down in chalk order. For what seemed like hours I dozed in and out of consciousness smelling the fumes from the constantly taxing C130 aircraft. Finally the command “ON YOUR FEET!!!” was heard and we shuffled in a ragged line like so many ants up the tailgate and into the red web seating of our designated aircraft. As would become my habit in the future I once again dozed off in an adrenaline induced coma while the aircraft took off. The crew chief and jumpmaster walked up and down the aisle or rather used our legs and rucksacks as stepping stones as they moved from one end of the aircraft to the other. “Twenty Minutes!!!... 10 Minutes!!! …Get Ready!!! …Outboard Personnel Standup!!! …Inboard Personnel Standup!!!...Hookup!!!..Check Static Lines!!!!...Check Equipment!!!.. Sound Off for Equipment Check!!!...All OK Jumpmaster!!!!...Stand in the Door!!!

Jump commands complete the door was opened and the roar of the rushing air filled the aircraft. I nervously hung on my static line as my shoulders were slowly crushed by the weight of my parachute and my rucksack with its attached 81mm mortar base plate and 3 rounds of simulated ammunition. Due to being vertically challenged and being somewhere in the middle of the stick I could barely see the glow of the jump lights as they turned from red to green. Suddenly I was being pushed violently from behind as the paratroopers at the rear started pushing the rest of us towards the door so as not to miss the drop zone. My vision was a blur as I moved rapidly to the door and my body position was anything but textbook as I literally fell out of the C130 and counted “One Thousand, Two Thousand, Three Thousand, Four Thousand..Check Canopy!!” Luckily I had a full canopy although due to my poor exit I had line twists all the way up to the bottom of the material. I bicycled vigorously until the twists worked them selves out. I then was able to look around and I was in awe at the sheer number of troopers in the air. It was only a battalion size operation employing 5 aircraft however we had jumped from a single aircraft in school which held jumpers. There were hundreds of jumpers in the air on this jump, all trying to land safely in the same patch of North Carolina wilderness.

As I was taught I lowered my rucksack and prepared to land by putting my feet and knees together and pulling the risers of my parachute so I could “slip” into the wind. I landed like a ton of bricks, gathered my wits, removed my weapon form the M1950 weapons case and put it into operation. I then gathered my parachute into its kitbag, grabbed my equipment and started a short but intensive death march to the rally point. Once we were all accounted for I moved out with my mortar section to the link up with the armor elements.

The rest of the week I rode on the back of a tank just like in the movies, occasionally dismounting to clear obstacles and do some patrolling in advance of the armor movement. Being a private I had no idea why we were doing this or where we were at. I rode when they told me to, ate what they gave me and sleep where they pointed. My biggest memories from my first field exercise where surprise at how cold it got in North Carolina in February and awe that my Platoon Sergeant ate Milkbone dog biscuits as a between meal snack.

At the end of the week we once again boarded some trucks and made the long dusty trip back to garrison and the company area. I was dispatched to the motorpool to help wash and PMCS vehicles. I cleaned my weapon and put my gear on my bed. Finally in the wee hours of a Saturday morning we were released and told we would be doing it all over again bright and early Monday morning. However this weekend would be different, I would not be wondering about the unknown but thinking about how I could pack my gear better. I was still a cherry but my first evolution was behind me and I was a US PARATROOPER!!

Honor and Integrity

Honor and integrity, those words..those sticky, confusing, and to some menacing words. How can two words both threaten and inspire?  Honor is defined as honesty, fairness, or integrity in one's beliefs and actions. It is often said that integrity is doing what is right even when no one is watching. These words are concepts. Concepts requiring us to aspire to be the best persons we can be. These concepts are what threaten and inspire.

Honor.. most of my adult life I have been taught that  you never leave a man behind. You never abandon a fallen comrade. If a teammate stumbles you rally behind them. You coach and mentor, you encourage and support. you never LEAVE A FALLEN COMRADE!!! It is very disheartening to see how quickly some will abandon those with whom they serve. Honor and integrity... are you inspired? Or are you scared? Do those words make you sweat because of the expectations associated with them? Individuals with honor and integrity are expected to lead. They are expected to set an example. To have honor and integrity you can not merely manage, you must lead, and lead from the front.

Integrity is not a word we read off cue cards, it is not a concept we banter about as a theory. You either have integrity at your core or your core is rotten and diseased. Integrity..doing the right thing when no one is watching. Integrity..doing the right thing when we experience no personal gain. Integrity.. the unquestionable bedrock of character upon which a leader's personality is built. Integrity can take us to great heights, it can also console us in our lowest depths.

Honor and integrity ..what say you gentleman? Show me something.Impress me.

Hawkeye 50K Ultra 2012

So this was the second running of this race and the second time I have run it. The inaugural Hawkeye 50K was in December 2010 but due to issues with the Park Ranger ( more on that later) the race had to be moved to March. This made the second annual race about 15 months from the first race. The conditions couldn't have been more different as this race day dawned sunny and warm with a high of 80 degrees and a 10-20 mph wind to keep you cool. Quite a difference from the "thundersnow" of the first race which I chronicled here http://www.mikemac356.blogspot.com/2010/12/hawkeye-50k-ultramarathon.html

So as I said race day dawned warm and sunny and I was better prepared having a mini-mule camelbak and plenty of supplements. I loaded everything in the car and drove the 25 miles to the Coralville reservoir where the race would be held. The 50K course was two 15.5 mile laps around the reservoir roughly broken into thirds with the first third being road, the second third crushed gravel trail and the last third technical trail.

Upon arrival I had to park about .5 miles from the start as the closer parking lot was already full. So I parked the car grabbed my gear and made my way to the start/finish. The walk to the start actually took me down a road that I would be running as part of the course later on. Once at the start I put my drop bag up against the building and listened to the Race Director give out last minute instructions. I tied my shoes and double checked all my gear and moved to the start line.

At the starting gun I hit my watch and my iphone running app. I also started the ultrarunning podcast that I have been listening to on my training runs. As I was using this race as a training run for a 50 mile race I have coming up, I had several other new things I was giving a try. I had new gaitors, a new nutrition plan and a new camelbak. I was breaking the cardinal rule of racing which is don't try anything new but as I considered this a training run I was ok with it. We ran down hill for about 50 meters then turned right onto the first section of trail, as expected a huge bottle neck developed and I actually stopped right there for a few seconds. After getting on the actual trail I slowly jogged through the varied terrain as I knew this section was less than a mile long and eventually we would hit the road and everyone would spread out. It was during this section that I got my first trip and fall out of the way. That's right less than a mile into the race I hit a buried root and took a face plant into the terra firma. More embarrassed than injured I popped right up with a loud " I meant to do that!"

Eventually we hit the main road for what would be 3-4 miles of highway shoulder running. This section was slightly up hill the whole way but did have some down hill as well.

It was during this section that Jen R who I know from dailymile caught up with me and we started chatting. Talking to someone always makes the run go by easier. She was doing the 25K and it was really nice to meet her in perso. We would run a few miles together during this part of the race. After about 4 miles we took a left and headed into the first aid station at mile 4.5. The aid station workers were awesome and the station was well stocked. I grabbed a PBJ sandwich and some gatorade and headed over to the woodline to relieve myself. Part of the nutrition plan I was trying to follow involved taking a salt/electrolyte tablet (thanks for the bottle Deborah) and a GU Gel every 30 minutes. I was happy to see I was well hydrated still as I had been drinking out of my camelbak as needed. 

I ran with Jen and a new friend Benny for the next few miles. Benny was from South Africa and was also running the 50K. This section of the course was around the lake and was mostly flat on a wide bike path. It offered some interesting views of waterfowl and boaters and I stopped to take a lot of pictures. Eventually Benny and Jen told me to go ahead as I was feeling pretty strong. I would see Benny again at the end of the race but I did not see Jen again. I continued along the lake taking my GU and electrolytes as planned. My biggest fear was to experience the cramps I had been hit with on my last two ultras. I was hopping this plan would stop those from recurring. My iphone app let me know I was keeping a steady pace and I was feeling pretty good. My plan was to finish the first lap in about 3 hours and then try to hit 6-6.5 hours for the entire race. Last time I ran this race I had hit the halfway in about 3 hours then bonked and slowed way down. I wanted to stay steady for the entire race this time.

At about 9.5 miles we were dumped out onto another service road and we headed slightly downhill to the second aid station. I grabbed some more PBJ and fluids and also a hand full of peanut M and M's. I was staying well hydrated still up to this point. I headed back out, up a large hill then down that hill again to hit the trail. 

I ran this trail for a few miles until I hit the stream crossing. The water was pretty high this year so I plunged right in knowing my feet would be wet anyway. The water was cool and refreshing and my shoes were back to only slightly damp after a few minutes. After the stream crossing you had to climb a large hill and the course got way more technical. It was at this point about 12-13 miles into the race I started to employ power walking up the steep hills and running the flats and downhills.

So I was stilling feeling really good at this point and the course took us by the start/finish where you had to take a right and head up hill and around the trails for about another 2 miles before the first lap was complete. I was starting to pass people and I completed the first lap in 2:56:44. I stopped for a good while at this point. I refilled my camelbak, downed some more water,ate some real food from the aid station and most important of all I changed my wet socks. After roughly an 8 minute rest I headed back out for lap number two. Lap 2 was a not a carbon copy of lap 1. Most of the runners where off the course as the 25k was complete. I would finish this entire lap only seeing 3 other runners. Once I hit the highway section I was starting to compare the way I felt on the second lap to the way I had felt in the previous race. It was night and day. I was feeling very strong at this point. I could see two little black specks a mile or more in the distance and I was determined to run them down. I didn't alter my pace but I just kept running steady. At the turn into Solon I met my friend Dave who was out for a Triatholon training ride on his bike. We talked a few minutes as he rode by my side. He said I was looking good which was a big morale boost as I was hitting the 20 mile point and hadn't really felt any fatigue. I hit the aid station again and was able to pass the two black specks who had turned into runners as we all stopped at the aid station.

When I headed back out onto the trail I switched my entertainment from the podcast to some metal. For the next 7-8 miles I would be banging my head as I ran down the trail. A few miles into the lake section I passed a guy who said he was having some cramping. This was the same area that I had experienced my massive leg cramps the year before. I offered him a electrolyte tablet but he said he had just taken one. Then he said" Hey are you Michael?" I said yes. He said " I'm Ed" Another dailymile friend I had met in real life. He ran with me for about a mile as we talked about the 82nd Airborne eventually he had to walk again. I wished him good luck and kept running down the trail. I was still pushing the GU but after 4-5 hours it was starting to make me mildly nauseous. I knew I needed the calories though as I could tell despite my best efforts I was starting to bonk a little and become dehydrated. I passed the second aid station again and grabbed some more PBJ, M and M's and plenty of fluid. There was a guy there laying on his back trying to stretch his calf out who shouted me some encouragement as I took off. I was starting to smell the barn as I was under 5 hours and knew I had roughly 6-7 miles to go. 6 hours looked like a doable time. Somewhere on the trail to the stream crossing my iphone ran out of juice. I would run the rest of the race sans music. The second stream crossing went much like the first but I could tell climbing the hill out of the stream bed that I was starting to get fatigued. I continued my power walk/run method the second time through this terrain and felt I was keeping a steady pace despite the growing fatigue.

As I passed the start/finish area for the third time and was taking a right to power up the incline, I heard a voice yelling for me to stop. The Race Director came running over and said that the race was officially canceled per the Park Ranger. There had been a runner with a medical issue during the race and the Park Ranger was shutting it down. I was pissed especially since I was about 3 miles from finishing. The Race Director advised me to stop and that I would no longer be timed. I told him I understood but I was going to finish my "training run" as a private citizen. So I took off on the last three miles. It was at this point and will forever be Hawkeye 50K tradition I started humming the song Por Ti Volore song from StepBrothers. During this last section I was passed by a shirtless guy who had also declined to stop. I kept him in sight though and finished just a few minutes behind him. I got back to the unofficial finish line in the unofficial time of 6 hours 8 minutes and 33 seconds. This was a 50K PR for me by 1 hour 13 minutes and 11 seconds. Awesome but nothing like being a race bandit at a race you paid for. I am still upset about the knee jerk reaction of that Park Ranger and immediately after finishing this post I am going to write a indignant letter to the editor and the DNR voicing my concerns about Big Brother, the governmental nanny state, and poor decisions. I will be running in the Trail Mix 50K in 4 weeks which should be another good race.

Jen this is for you

You Are No Longer My Friend, My Friend: Adventures in the Souk

As many of you know I have spent quite a bit of my life  in the Middle East or on the fringes of the region. Shopping in the local souk or market is a unique experience. In the souk price is no object and the stickers advertising said prices are merely a suggestion. I have shopped in large souks in Istanbul and Morocco as well as small markets in Egypt, Iraq, and Turkey. I have bought mother of pearl inlaid jewelry boxes, refrigerator magnets, fish skin drums, leather backpacks made from camel, hand-carved wooden faces, and painted plates. I have seen trained monkeys, snake charmers, goats, and hundreds of street urchins begging for " just one dollar" or candy. I have eaten cheese, goat, "kabob shish", flat bread and green salads. I have drank chai and coffee so hot you couldn't hold the cup.

Shopping in the souk is always fun most conversations with local vendors go something like this:

My friend please..please my friend I have watches. Beautiful Rolex, you come see.

I can't afford a Rolex

For you my friend 10 dollars

Let me see it, This isn't a real Rolex I will give you 3 dollars

My friend, you are taking food from the mouth of my children. It is an insult my friend. I will sell you the watch for 8 dollars.

I just watched you sell the same watch to that guy for 3 dollars

LIES who tells you these lies? My friend you are no longer my friend. It is lies

I just watched you myself,sell that watch to him for 3 dollars. I will give you 3 dollars for the watch.

But my friend, it is not possible

Ok then forget it, I don't need a watch anyway

My friend, it is making me poor but I will sell the watch.

And so it goes..

I once got a henna tattoo in the plaza of the Grand Souk in Marrakeesh Morroco, while watching a snake charmer make a cobra dance in a basket. All I could think was, how the hell did I get into the middle of this episode of Jonny Quest? I spent an entire day in a similar souk in Istanbul. I bought myself a reversible jacket which is lost somewhere in the shadows of time and a small polished stone jar that at this very moment is sitting on my night stand. I once had the pleasure of visiting the Iraqi  version of a gunshow when I went with some of our Kurdish allies to a market that sold everything from AK-47's to RPG's. All that armament was laid out on tables like so many loaves of bread. I would like to go back someday and do some more shopping in one of the souk's but chances are that will never happen. So I will just keep my memories and laugh with my buddies about the times when we did visit the Souk.

Wastin' Time

Even people that have not been in the military have heard the term "Hurry up and wait." I was driving home from a work trip tonight with my boss, who is a retired Marine, and we started swapping stories of all the times we had to sit around wasting time while we were in the military. Wasting time is a common thing that all service members remember. It is inevitable when you have to move or deal with a large amount of people and complex logistical or operational issues. Intellectually I know why it happened but it still didn't make it any less painful. I bet some of the scenarios below bring back some memories for a few folks.

Scene: Barracks/Platoon Office 82nd Airborne Division early 1980's

After being in the field for 2 weeks on some local training our Infantry Company had returned to the barracks and Company area and we were to pull maintenance and clean all Platoon equipment before we were to be released for the weekend.

Platoon Sergeant: Is that weapon clean Private?

Me: Yes Sergeant!!!

Platoon Sergeant opens his desk drawer and pulls out a paper clip. He straightens it out and inserts the straightened end through a small barely noticeable hole located in the front sight assembly. A little cone of dirt/carbon falls out.

Platoon Sergeant: WTF Dickweed!!! Get out of my office and come back when this weapon is clean!!! Next time bring your squad leader and if it is dirty you will both be in the front lean and rest position!!!!

Me to myself: Holy Hell I didn't even know that hole was there, This sucks

Repeat 200 times for every man in the Company and add 7 more hours.

Wastin' Time


Scene: Barracks 10th Mountain Division Late 1980's

As a Cadre member and squad leader in newly formed COHORT unit I had to prepare my squad for the dreaded IG inspection.

Me: Hey dipshit you need to canoe that sleeping bag properly and get all those black marks off your canteen cup.

Private: What is canoeing a sleeping bag?

Me: Good Lord, didn't they teach you anything in basic training? Roll up the sides of your sleeping bag like a canoe and lay all your gear in the middle per SOP.

Private: I tried to get those black marks off the canteen cup but they won't come off.

Me: Well genius that is what Clothing Sales stores are for, go buy a new one for inspections and leave that one for actual field use.

Private: We can do that?

Me: Yes, now hurry the fuck up before SFC T chews my ass for you guys being a soup sandwich!!

Wastin' Time

Scene: Army Airfield 10th Special Forces Group early 1990's

During one of our quarterly Military Freefall refreshers the wind picked up and we were stuck on the airfield for quite some time waiting for it to die down. We had one scheduled jump left to re qualify as Level 1 Military Free Fall parachutists prior to our deployment to the Joint Readiness Training Center in Ft Chaffee AR.

Me: Hey Mark I have to piss

Team Sergeant: If you unrig I will have to JMPI you again

Me: Crap, that means I have to take off my rucksack,weapon and Oxygen bottle just to take a piss

Team Sergeant: Just undo your leg strap and move your kit bag out of the way, then I can JMPI just that part

Me: Ok but when is the Bird going to be here?

Team Sergeant: When the winds get below 18 knots

Me: Can't we just cancel this stupid jump and go drink beer?

Team Sergeant: For the 100th time no

Wastin' Time

Scene: Local Training Area 10th Special Forces Group Germany late 1990's

Doing some local hide site construction and surveillance training, during this team training event our Team Sergeant and Team Leader had a little conversation

Team Sergeant: No, we need to go this way and construct the hide sites along this area over here.

Team Leader: I think they would be much better over here, better observation and fields of fire. More cover and concealment.

Team Sergeant: I disagree, you guys go over here and start constructing your hides. I will be by later to take a look at them and critique them.

Team Leader: Why are they going over there? I just said they would be better over here.

Team Sergeant: Because I have been doing this for 20 years and you have been on a team for all of two years, so your fuck'in opinion doesn't matter!

Team Leader: Oh

Wastin' Time

Scene: 10th Special Forces Group Romanian Hotel Room Early 2000's

Our Company was staging in Romania prior to the invasion of Iraq. The entire Battalion was basically on lock down inside this large hotel on the Romanian Coast. It would have been nice if it wasn't like being in prison.

Sergeant Major: You Team Sergeants need to keep these guys busy and do team training.

Me: SGM we have packed and repacked our gear, we have cross trained and practiced SOP's about as much as we can in a frickin hotel hallway.

Sergeant Major: Well the Major doesn't want to see guys laying on their beds watching "The Nanny" reruns dubbed in German. So do something, get creative.

Me: This is BS, any idea when we are getting the fuck out of here?

Sergeant Major: Nope

Me: Ok more mortar crew drills in the basement it is. My guys are going to love me

Wastin' Time

I spent 22 years in the military. I probably spent 2 years of that waiting for something to happen. Looking back on it now, it is somewhat humorous, at the time it was retarded.

War Dogs

Dogs are man’s best friend so the saying goes. Here in ‘Merica dogs are for a lot of folks part of the family. I have three dogs myself and consider myself a dog person. I am not the only one that feels that way and throughout my military career the different units I was in had an assortment of adopted and befriended canines. We seemed to pick up one of theses furry guys everytime we stopped long enough to make a semi permanent base of operations.

The first dog I can remember adopting as the unit mascot was when I was stationed in the Sinai Peninsula way back in the stone age of the early 1980’s. This mutt was the typical Middle Eastern yellow skinny dog. The same dog I saw all over the Middle East many many times and in many countries. This particular dog was a permanent fixture at the outpost on the top of the mountain on an island in the middle of the straits of Tiran in the Sinai Peninsula. We used to feed this dog our left over C-Rations and it lived high on the hog. When my Special Forces team was running operations out of a house in the Kosovo town of Kamenica we had another dog. Typical yellow mutt and we feed it left over dog food that we grabbed from the Military Police. They had expired dog food that they wouldn’t feed to the military working dogs but it was fine for our mascot.

When my SF team deployed to Iraq in 2003 we set up a patrol base in the village of Klawkut. We were running reconnaissance missions and calling in airstrikes on the Iraqi military that had formed a defensive perimeter around the city of Kirkuk and its strategic oilfields. On one of our area reconnaissance missions we came upon a complex of abandoned Iraqi trenches and fighting positions. We dismounted from the Land Rover Defenders we were using as transportation and methodically cleared each trench and fighting position. As we got towards the ends of the fortified area one of my medics gave a holler and we looked to see what he wanted. We hadn’t found any Iraqis but he had found three black and white puppies that were all huddled up in the bottom of one of the fighting positions.

It was our best guess that these little guys had been abandoned by their mother or she was killed during the bombing that had happened in the area a few days prior. Being the good SF troopers we were we immediately adopted these furballs as our team mascots and loaded them into the back of one of the vehicles. Our interpreter was also sitting in the back of this vehicle and started to complain about the dogs. Muslims believe dogs are unclean animals and do not keep them as pets as a general rule. Being the culturally sensitive guys we were my Senior Weapons Sergeant told him to shut his pie hole or he, not the dogs, would be walking back to the patrol base.

As we made our way back across country to Klawkut we saw a lone vehicle headed in our general direction. As it moved closer and we could not identify it as friend or foe we pulled our vehicles into a defensive posture. The approaching vehicle stopped and two individuals dismounted in traditional Kurdish garb. They were about 200 meters from our vehicles and made signs for us to come forward and talk. We made the decision to put our crew served weapon on the high ground to our left in an overwatch while our Team Leader and the interpreter moved forward to talk to theses individuals. The rest of the team would also provide supporting fire from the cover of the vehicles.

As our Team Leader moved forward I had my sights trained dead center on the chest of the first mystery Kurd waiting for him to make a suspicious move. As I waited for the little drama to unfold I could hear our new found companions whining and scuffling in the back seat of the vehicle. As it turns out these individuals were just some Peshmerga who were trying to rejoin their unit and they gave us a friendly wave as they got in their vehicle and continued heading east.

We continued on west to KlawKut and our patrol base. When we arrived we broke open some Meals Ready to Eat and some bottled water and fed our puppies. We made them a comfortable little home out of a MRE box so they could sleep in the shade. As the days went by the started imprinting themselves on us and usually would follow the first team member that left the building we were sleeping in. Our interpreter continued to complain about the fact that they were hanging around but we ignored him as the rest of the Kurds didn’t seem to mind. He was a city boy any way from down south and the Peshmerga we were working with didn’t have a lot of respect for him.

Eventually we had to pick up and move on as the mission changed. When we had to haul ass to occupy Kirkuk, our little friends got left in Klawkut and we never saw them again. That is the way of the mascot though, they are interchangeable to a certain degree, although I still think about them and wondered if they made it through the war ok.

Freezefest 5K 2012

The Freezefest is a run I have done annually for at least the last 3 years. I have made it my traditional first race of the year. I knew this year's race had potential to be a good one as we have had a very very mild winter..very "un Freezelike." I had also been running very strong the last few months as I continue to train for some ultramarathons I am doing in the spring. Last week I ran a sub 48 minute 10K for the first time in my post military life (I retired from the military in 2004). I was excited and a little nervous about the chance to run the fastest 5K I have run since I turned 40.

The day of the race was very mild with a predicted temperature in the 40's. To keep with my training schedule I had to complete a 90 minute run on race day so I arrived about 0900 for the 1100 start. I also broke with tradition and did not eat my normal pre race breakfast of honey bun and Gatorade. I picked up my race packet and then returned to the car. I dropped my stuff off and went for a very easy 60 minute run. The race is held in the Squaw Creek park so I explored the trails around the park and finished about 5 miles prior to the race commencing.

After I finished my warmup I visited the portopotty and milled around for about 15 minutes with the other runners until everyone started moving towards the start line. Uncharacteristically and in anticipation of trying to run as fast as I could I self seeded in the front third of the group of racers. As most of you know I usually start at the back but not on this day. Shortly after we lined up the command to go was given, I hit the timer on my watch and off I went.

I started off quickly and thanks to my warmup my knee wasn't stiff as it usually is during my initial start. The course headed east on a paved service road for what I guess was about 3/4 of a mile. I was feeling good and picking people off little by little. After 3/4 of a mile we made a turnaround and as I approached it I was happy to see that I was still in the top third of racers. I glance at my watch and it was about at 6 minutes. The course had no mile markers so I wasn't quite sure of the distance, I just guessed based on previous experience.

We headed back west on the same road , passing back by the long line of runners that had not made the turn yet. I knew we would have to run back past the start and then continue on for about another mile before turning again and heading back to the finish. It was during this long section that I concentrated on maintaining my pace. I kept telling myself to run tall and keep turning over my feet. It was also during this section where people started settling into their pace. I would pass and be passed several times by the same two people for the rest of the race as we pushed each other. At one point during this section I actually felt like I was running downhill on the flat course.

Eventually we curved back east on the road and passed the "cowbell guy" who every year at CVRA events cheers on the runners with his boombox and cowbell. We continued on east to the turnaround when we headed back towards the finish. I was starting to smell the barn as I could actually see the finish line off to my right as the road curved back around the park. I looked at my watch and it read 20 minutes. Based on the distance left I was pleased to discover I was going to beat my goal time of 24 minutes by a pretty sizable margin. I just didn't know by how much. The course turned right into the parking lot for the last .1 mile to the finish. I could see that the official timer was reading 21 something so I really pushed it hard up the small incline to the finish in hopes of running the race under 22 minutes. Unfortunately it was not to be as I finished in 22:03.

I was very happy with my time and thought it was a post military PR, however after I arrived home I discovered I had run the CC Rider 5K in 20:37 back in 2004. Oh well it is definitely the fastest 5K I have run in the last 7 years. Looking forward to a definite PR at the Hawkeye 50K coming up next month

Extracurricular Activites #3 :Reserve Deputy Sheriff

As I have written before besides my regular job I also work/volunteer at a few other activities. I officiate high school sports and work as a Emergency Medical technician. Another activity on my ADD inspired list of tasks is I am a reserve deputy sheriff in a rural county in northeastern Iowa. How I got hooked up with this activity was a somewhat long process. I happened to be talking to one of the security officers that works for my company and he mentioned he was a reserve officer in this county and that they were hiring reserves. This interested me for several reasons. This county is the county where my family is originally from and I used to visit it quite a bit when I was young. I have always been interested in law enforcement and I also thought it may give me a more well rounded approach and add some credibility to my day job as operations manager for a contract security company.

So I obtained and application and turned it in. And I waited and waited and waited.. eventually I forgot about it entirely. One day over a year after sending in the application I got a call from the reserve captain inquiring if i was still interested. Although I had forgotten all about it I told him sure. He arranged an interview and once that was done, I completed my processing,fingerprints,background check etc.. Then I was a provisional deputy. In the state of Iowa to become a fully qualified reserve deputy you have to finish the reserve officer academy in 18 months and attend and pass weapons training. Each individual sheriff then can designate how he wants the reserve deputies used in his county.

At this point I am one module from completing the reserve academy and I have completed the weapons training etc.. The sheriff in my county allows reserves to augment regular deputies for special events such as fairs, rodeos etc.. I have participated in several of these events. He also allows reserve deputies to operate independently once they are qualified and have a certain number of hours spent as a rider with a regular deputy. I currently am still conducting my ride time and may get on my own sometime this summer. Honestly I am not in too much of a hurry as I enjoy riding with the other deputies and  seeing how they operate.

As I mentioned the county I operate in is rural and it has the normal rural law enforcement issues. Animal versus car accidents,speeding,OWI,drugs etc.. There are only two towns in the county that have their own police forces, the rest of the small communities contract with the Sheriff's Office to patrol their towns and provide law enforcement support. So much of my time on duty consists of patrolling these towns or checking for speeders on one of the two highways that bisect the county. I try to work 2-3 times per month and so far I really enjoy it. Eventually I may try to get on as a reserve in a department a little closer to home but for now I like where I am at

Triple D Winter Race

So the Triple D Winter Race is the first race in what I have named my Winter/Spring of Awesome. I was looking for a January race and it came up on a Google search. It is held in Dubuque Iowa which is only about 90 minutes from where I live.Not sure why they call it the Triple D but it sure is a cool race. I choose to run the Half Marathon (13.1 miles) because frankly I was a little apprehensive about running a trail race in the winter, would I need snowshoes or what? The Triple D is actually 4 events there is the Half Marathon, Full Marathon and Ultra Marathon and a 100KM Mountain Bike race. All these races where held on the Heritage trail system which is a rails to trails system that follows the valley made by the Little Maquoketa River in Dubuque County Iowa. I was a little worried the week prior to the race that it wouldn't be a true winter race as it hadn't snowed yet this year. Not to fear though, we got about 6-8 inches dumped on us the Thursday prior to the race so there was plenty of winter for everyone.

So I got up early the morning of the race and made the 90 minute drive to Dubuque. On the way I did my traditional crappy job of fueling up by eating an egg mcmuffin and a small coffee. One of these days I will do things right but why mess with tradition? Packet pickup was at the Grand Harbour Resort in Dubuque and I arrived about 0815, early enough to pick up my packet and get dressed prior to the pre race briefing at 0900.  This was a self supported race so what I carried would be what I had. I was dressed in layers, long sleeve tech shirt, running pants, stocking hat, gloves and my old Army PT jacket (hey it is free and it works) with a GU Gel and some GU shots in my left pocket, and my iphone, emergency numbers and inhaler in the other. On my feet I had my gators and Yak Trax.I was also carrying 2 hand bottles full of diluted Gatorade.

After the pre race briefing we loaded on the Half Marathon bus which would shuttle us to the start point out near Farley Iowa. The trip to the start took awhile, long enough for me to take a little nap. Eventually we turned off the highway and down a gravel,snow covered road. I wasn't sure the bus would make it up a few of the hills but it was fine. The bus dropped us off at a point where the trail crossed the road and we all piled out. There was probably about 20 runners in our group. In front of us heading back towards the east was the start line spray painted on the trail.

So we all kind of milled about for about 10 minutes or so and I took the opportunity to relieve myself in the woods.

Finally someone yelled " Is there any one from the race here?" No one answered, we were on our own. See what I mean about self supported? After figuring out there was no official starter we all just hit our watches and started down the trail.

The race itself was pretty uneventful. I was listening to metal tunes on my iphone and every 5 minutes my running app would inform me of my current distance and pace. The snow got a little slushy in the sunny areas but I found if I took smaller strides and turned my feet over quicker the traction was improved. Since the course followed the river bottom, winding in an out of the large bluffs in the area I think it was slightly downhill the whole way with only one uphill in the whole race. Snowmobiles also used this trail and if you kept on the spots they had packed down the traction was pretty good.

About mile 7 I started bonking a little due to my lack of nutrition but the Gu took care of that issue pretty quickly. I stopped a few times to take pictures and pretty much decided to just enjoy the scenery and the nice sunny winter day. About mile 8.5 we passed the base of the Sundown Ski area and seeing all those people waiting on chairlifts got me daydreaming about when my Special Forces team was doing winter training near WinkleMoos in Bavaria. We were ski touring around the area and one night we stopped at a Hutte and drank way to many Weisbieres. We then had to ski back in a blizzard a couple of kilometers to our hooches (tents) that were set up in the woods on the mountain. Good times. I wasn't really passed by anyone and I didn't pass anyone else after the first few miles. Everyone just kept moving it down the trail. There was one poor guy who  was using cross country skis but the gravel base on the trail was messing them up as well as the snowmobile tracks. He also had to take them off everytime we crossed a gravel road. He made it though about 15 minutes after I came in. 

Towards the end as the temperature rose to about freezing I started getting hot as I was just a tad overdressed. I took off my hat and unzipped the ventilation ports under the arms of my jacket ( reason I wore the jacket). I quickly cooled back down. The finish line was just as unceremonious as the start, we crossed a bridge and stopped in the parking lot of a bar. You walked inside told them your name and they wrote it down. There was a bar tab established for racers however which was a plus.

Unfortunately I couldn't stay to long as I had a family event going on later in the afternoon, so I grabbed the first shuttle back to my car. All in all this was a good race and fun. I finished in 2:16:49 which is not a PR but is 15 minutes faster than the last half marathon I did. That last half marathon was also on dry pavement so I felt pretty good about my time. I think next year I will probably do the Marathon.