Should EMS Be Armed?

I am a strong proponent of the individual rights the Second Amendment spells out for us. Notice I said spells out, the Second Amendment merely defines or explains the rights we already possess. Government does not have the power or the authority to take these away. This is not a new or original position, and I am not the first to express it. It is however what I believe. I am permitted to carry a concealed weapon in my home state and do so religiously where legal and appropriate ( almost everywhere). I do not take this responsibility lightly. And make no mistake and armed citizen takes on an awesome responsibility. They incur the responsibility to remain proficient with their designated firearm and to stay vigilant and aware so as to avoid confrontation. They must be acutely aware of the force continuum and when to use it appropriately .

I also am very passionate about emergency medicine. EMS providers also need to be acutely aware of protocol and when to proceed into a scene. Scene safety is something that is drilled into every EMS student. However in the ever changing world we live in a scene that may be deemed safe initially could evolve into something quite different during the course of a call. Also you have rural EMS services where law enforcement may be a good distance away during the initial scene size up.

 EMS providers must be afforded the same rights and opportunities that are afforded to private citizens.Arming EMS in situations where it may be appropriate is a discussion that must be pursued.

Here are some resources to continue the discussion

An excellent podcast on EMS STANDING ORDERS

http://emsstandingorders.com/2011/12/13/episode-8-surviving-the-next-shift/

Posts by nationally recognized EMS educator  and Second Amendment advocate Kelly Grayson

http://ambulancedriverfiles.com/2011/09/06/gun-rights-were-winning/

http://ambulancedriverfiles.com/2007/01/26/the-armed-emt/

Discuss amongst yourselves

In which our hero becomes "The Man"

I was promoted at work this week, I wasn't sure it was going to happen but I thought it might. I really wanted it to happen a year ago but it didn't so this time around I was a little less hopeful. With this promotion I took over the operation of a business unit with a budget of several million dollars and over 300 employees. I am not sure how I feel about that. I am responsible for all financial results good or bad and I have direct influence on the livelihood of not only myself and my family but hundreds of people and their families as well. I am very humbled and nervous. I know I can do a good job but only time will prove this. How did I, the guy who still listens to Rage Against the Machine and the Sex Pistols, become the establishment?

Honestly I always wanted to be a rebel but I am just not very good at it. The main problem is I hate being embarrassed, and I embarrass easily. So therefore not matter what I do I try to do the best job I can so as not to draw attention to myself. I also need to be constantly challenged or I get bored and dissatisfied. This desire to not be embarrassed and to banish boredom led me to every elite unit or school I could manage to attend during my 22 year Army career. Infantry,Paratrooper,Ranger, Green Beret,Sniper,Military Freefall, Tandem Master, Jumpmaster Static line and Freefall. 82nd Airborne Division,10th Mountain Division, 10th Special Forces Group and the Special Warfare Center. While attending these schools and doing my job in these units I eventually rose to the Senior Enlisted ranks and first found out what is was like to be "The man." It was a new experience for me to be the one everyone looked to for answers and at the same time they blamed for their unhappiness or any perceived faults of leadership. Being the man you are both leader and scapegoat. You are held accountable for a lot of stuff you have no control over. Looking back on that period I think I generally did a good job and I think I was a good leader. However I made some enemies, and that still bothers me because I have never been quite sure if it was me or them that was deficient.

Towards the end of my military career I decided I better get educated beyond the high school level or I wouldn't get a decent job. So I did, eventually obtaining a Masters degree after 7 years of part time study and full time employment. It was tough but satisfying. I am proud of the fact that I obtained an Associates, and Bachelors and a Masters degree while working a full time and a part time job and establishing myself in the civilian sector. During this period I also become qualified as an emergency medical technician. I started volunteering at a local ambulance service. Once again after a year or so I found myself as "the man." Even though I have not obtained the highest certification as of yet I am at an Intermediate level and experienced enough that I am often assigned to be the in charge on our various ambulance calls. Once again people are looking to me for answers and any screw ups are my responsibility. How does this keep happening?

So back to the original topic, I have reached the pinnacle at least at the local level. I can go no higher unless I am transferred to the corporate office and opportunities there are very limited. It took me 18 years in my military career to reach this point. The point where I was responsible for decision making that had far reaching consequences. The point where any further advancement would take me out of my unit.  This time the curve was much steeper.  I started out as a part time employee for this company 6 years ago and now I am in charge of the entire operation. America is truly the land of opportunity and no one will ever convince me otherwise. I have some big shoes to fill but I have been there before. I also know you are only as good as your last accomplishment so I will not be resting on my laurels. However while I am strategizing and business planning I will still be the guy who froze Curley Ward's hat in a milk jug. I will still be the guy who cranks up the Metallica.

Thanks for letting me ramble

TrailMix 50K 2012

This race was to be the last long training run before the Ice Age Trail 50 and it followed the Hawkeye 50K that I had run 3 weeks prior. The race is conducted in the Hyland Park Reserve in Bloomington Mn. Bloomington is a suburb of Minneapolis/St Paul which worked out well as my brother lives in Otsego Mn which is about 45 minutes outside of the Twin Cities. Myself and Jay headed out on our 5 hour drive to Minnesota on Friday afternoon, arriving about 7 pm. We hung out with my brother and ate pancakes and ice cream for dinner.

Bright and early Saturday morning we headed to the park for the 0530 packet pickup and 0700 start for the 50k. First we had to stop so I could grab some bottled water and something for breakfast. I ended up eating a pop tart and Gatorade for pre race fuel. After about a 40 minute drive we arrived at the park visitor's center and I got my number and timing chip. Shirts and other goodies would be handed out at race completion. We sat in the car for about 30 minutes until I started assembling my gear for the start. I moseyed over to the start line about 10 minutes before start time and waited with the rest of the crowd. My brother Matt and son Jay followed me a few minutes later and we made small talk until the count down and starting gun went off.

As this was supposed to be a training run I started off at a trot hoping to try out my race strategy for the upcoming 50 miler. The race was a total of four 12.5 Km or 7.75 mile loops around the park. My crew of two hung out at the start finish line with my drop bag. The course was run entirely on grass or wood chip covered trails and was not very technical. There were quite a few rolling and even some steep hills on the course. I just settled into my pace as the course went up the first hill through a meadow then up another hill. About that time my pace program informed me I had completed the first mile in 9:49. I knew this would be too fast for the entire race but I was feeling pretty good. I decided right then to just go with it. I also decided that I would not walk all the hills as I had done in previous ultras. I would run them if I could see the top and only walk them if they were steep or I couldn't see the crest.  We went down a hill and hit the first aid station at about mile 1.5

About mile 2 I had to stop and tighten my shoes but for the rest of the race the were fine. After the aid station the course headed into the woods and up and down several hills until we looped back to the same aid station at about mile 4. The course then headed east over hill and dale until we hit a section of paved bike trail for about a mile that headed up hill. I ran on the side of the trail and avoided the pavement. We then headed on and out an back route on a wood chipped trail that was very spongy and soft. By this time the lead runners were starting to pass me headed the other way towards the start/finish. I completed the loop and headed back myself starting to pass other 50K runners as they made their way to the turn around. This section winded along side a lake and once we hit the eastern edge it took a left turn and headed to the start/finish. Lap one was complete for me in 1:20. This was relatively fast and but me on pace for a personal record. I didn't want to get my hopes up and just wanted to stick to my hydration and refuel plan. I had been taking a gel and salt tablet every 30 minutes as well as grabbing trail mix and powerade at every aid station. I had been drinking enough water that I was staying well hydrated.

I headed out and laps 2 and 3 were pretty much carbon copies of Lap 1. My rough splits were 2:44 and 4:15 for those laps. Between laps 2 and 3 I stopped to refill my camelbak and grab some more gels from my awesome crew. At the end of lap 3 I was starting to get a little bit of soreness in my feet but I told them I would see them in 1:20.

I was definitely on pace for a PR and unless I walked the entire lap I would finish somewhere between 5:30 and 6:00 hrs. My pace had been consistently in the 10:30-10:40 range per mile and I was feeling like my plan was working. But then things change as they usually do in a ultra. The first thing was I started getting lazy and mentally losing my edge. When I hit that first hill on lap 4 I decided to walk it instead of run. I mean I was way ahead what was the worry? I think right there subconsciously my pace started to slow. Runners I had been hanging with started to pull away from me and I also started getting passed. By the time I hit the aid station I was running 10:50 miles and I felt like I was giving it all I had. The second thing was I was starting to get stomach cramps when I took in solid food like trailmix so I had to stick to the gels. I was starting to struggle and even though it wasn't the worst I had felt on an ultra it was the worst I had felt all day. Eventually I was running through the woods with no one in sight in front or behind me. I was feeling sorry for myself  as I hit the point were there was 4 miles left to go.

It was then and there I told my self to man up and pick up the pace. I decided that this was going to become a race. Surprisingly as I lengthened my stride and concentrated on my form and foot turnover I started feeling better. I started feeling stronger, then I caught sight of a runner ahead of me and I was determined to catch that runner. She started walking up the hill with the bike path and I kept my feet and arms moving. I concentrated on my breathing as I passed her on the uphill. I then saw another runner and I passed him too. With everyone I caught I felt stronger and stronger. I felt like Anton Kupicka racing the Western States 100 or Geoff Roes powering up the mountains of Alaska. I felt like I was an elite runner like I was flying down the trail (in reality I was probably doing 8-9 minute miles but whatever). I blew right through the last aid station with 2 miles to go. I smelt the barn and picked the pace up even more. I passed 6 runners in those last 4 miles beating the closest one by almost 2 minutes. I crossed the finish line in 5:24:56.8. I beat my previous Personal Best for the 50K by by almost 50 minutes. I had just set it 3 weeks previously. This race was the culmination of 6 months of training and with 3 weeks before my second 50 mile attempt it is time to taper. Ice Age Trail 50 I am coming for you.

FlashBack Friday: Inaugural Groton Road Race 1992

Most of you know I like to run. At my age it has become the only competitive athletic event I still do on a regular basis. Sure I like to shoot, mountain bike, play golf and swim but running is my sport. Running is the thing I consistently do day in and day out. I am always training for my next race, races that I obsessively plan out months in advance. This keeps me from becoming a has-been coach potato if only for 30 minutes a day. This is all somewhat strange as I was never a runner as a youngster. When I was young running was only a means to an end. I never ran track or cross country in high school although I wish I had. I ran to lose weight for wrestling, I was a wrestler and running was the unpleasant torture I put myself through to become a lighter one. After high school when I joined the military running was still a necessary evil. As a paratrooper we ran in boots in tight formation singing cadence at the top of our lungs. Later when I started attending a few elite schools like US Army Ranger School and the Special Forces Qualification Course running was used as punishment and to weed out the weak. As the saying goes you don't have to be the fastest just don't be the slowest.

Eventually I made my way to my first Special Forces assignment on ODA 085 Ft Devens Massachusetts. In Special Forces everyday was a competition. When we lined up for our morning run there was no easy day, we took off like bats out of hell trying our best to beat our teammates back to the team room after covering the predetermined route. Fortunately or unfortunately my team had some phenomenal  athletes. One in particular, Carl could run like no one I had ever met before. Everyday I would try to catch him and inevitably he would leave us all in the dust. However as time went by I started noticing that although I never caught Carl I was starting to beat my other teammates on a regular basis.

As time went by Carl made a permanent change of station move and my team deployed to Incirlik Turkey to provide Combat Search and Rescue coverage for the Iraqi no fly zone, that was in place after the Gulf War. By the power of circumstance I had now become the fastest guy on the team.We would run the 8 miles around the airfield for team PT and I would just fly, letting my legs take me where they wanted.  The rhythmic drumming of the Native American music my wife had sent me played through my head as I sucked air deep into my lungs and ran towards the rising sun. At the end of the run I would stop in front of our team GP large tent and patiently wait for the rest of my teammates to catch up. I think it was in Incirlik where I started to enjoy running just for the joy of running.

I was making our bed the other day and I noticed the design for the Groton Road race on the "quilt of awesomeness" my Mother made for me out of old race t shirts.

Reading the date I realized it was 20 years ago this month that I ran my first competitive race. We had returned to Ft Devens from Incirlik some months earlier. One day while we were hanging around the team room one of my teammates mentioned that there was a guy on another team that had paid to run in this 10 kilometer race in nearby Groton, Ma but he would not be able to run the race. He was giving away his entry and wanted to know if anyone wanted it. For some reason I thought that sounded like a good idea, so I was in.

I woke up the morning of the race and drove the few miles to Groton from where I lived in Pepperell. I parked in front of the school and went inside to check in. I had to tell a little white lie and make the people believe that I was the other fella but they gave me my number, tshirt and safety pins. I asked them what the pins were for? They told me it was to put my number on my shirt ( new guys, geeez). I kinda milled around with  the rest of the folks at the starting line until they announced the race was about to begin. I had no idea where to stand so I just stood in the middle of the group. Plus or minus a few minutes from race time a starter pistol went off and the pack started surging forward. Being in the middle wasn't the best plan as I got stuck behind a bunch of people walking or jogging across the start line. Eventually I worked my way to the outside and tried to make up some time by running off road on the people lawns that bordered the course. I jumped back on the road as we took a hard right and headed out of town. I had no idea how far 10K was compared to what I usually ran and I had no concept of pace. I was just running as hard as I could until someone told me to stop. The course wended its way on country roads through the beautiful New England countryside. After 21 years I don't remember a lot of race details I just remember we ran up and down hills and through neighborhoods and villages. It was exhilarating to be part of this inaugural road race.

We turned back towards Groton and finished where we had started. I crossed the finish line somewhere under 40 minutes and in the top third of the racers. I was tired but I was hooked. In the years since this first race I have run too many 5 and 10K races to keep track of. I have run a dozen half marathons (13.1 miles) and 7 actual marathons (26.2 miles). Currently I am on an ultra marathon/trail race kick and have finished three 50K races with some 50 milers planned for this summer. Although I am definitely not the fastest anymore or even in the top third, running has become my hobby and my passion. It all started on a whim 21 years ago.

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.