Rucking Marine Corps Marathon - 26.2 miles under weight for others

**First thank you to everyone who supported my efforts in every way, from fundraising to training to encouragement and everything in between.** Now if you have a few minutes and a snack, get comfy and read on...

Elysia 2006, San Diego Rock & Roll Marathon Finish - "That was cool but I will not run another marathon, ever!"

Elysia 2010, NYC Marathon Finish - "This is the last marathon! Really this time."

Elysia 2014, Ironman Lake Placid Finish - "I did not run a marathon, it was an Ironman. Totally different. Still not doing it again."

Elysia 2019 - "Sure Michael Desmond, I will ruck Marine Corps Marathon with you."

Ramsy October 27, 2019 1422, when Elysia called him at mile 24.5 of the Marine Corps Marathon saying she didn't want to ruck anymore- "You said how many times you wouldn't do another marathon? This is what you get." (Completely summarized and probably a little off as my mind was not the sharpest at that point, but the sentiment is probably about right.)

RUCK•ING [VERB] Carrying a weighted pack on your back. It implies action, energy, and purpose. (www.goruck.com)

What is your WHY? This was a question asked by special forces cadres during a recent event to the participants during GORUCK Selection (48 hour endurance event). To learn more about what that is, visit this site. But basically, the question is extremely clear. 

So WHY after not 1 not 2 but arguably 3 marathons would I sign up for another one? My WHY came from the stories of inspiration that I heard from people I met through Travis Manion Foundation. Stories of sadness, survival, incredible strength and hope. The incredible movement started by the families of 1st Lt Travis Manion and Lt (SEAL) Brendan Looney brought all of these amazing people together.  

Stories like that of Teresa Jones, who lost her husband, LCDR Landon Jones in 2013 when their sons were just 12 weeks and 6 years old. Stories like that of Monica Valez who lost both of her brothers while they were serving our country. All of these people have showed what true courage is and have found ways to honor their loved ones by creating an incredible community and putting out so much positive energy into the world. I've been fortunate, those that I know personally that served, came home to their loved ones. The last little kicker was when Micheal Desmond said, "Let's do this. You can build the plan and we'll train together". (again summarized a bit) You see Michael, his wife Kristen and their son Emerson have become great friends of ours and Michael is a Marine. So when a friend asks for my help and support in achieving a goal, even if that means I get roped into something I really would rather not do, I'll do it. So I made a plan. I emailed and text it to Michael. We both looked at it intensely and maybe, kinda, sorta followed it. I'm sure I dragged him out on a few rucks that he might have skipped and vice versa. So the commitment was made, the money was raised and we found ourselves in DC on 27-Oct-2019 in black trash bags as the rain poured down as we waited for the marathon to start, knowing clearly we had gotten each other to this point and even if we didn't finish together, we would finish.

Training & Pre-race
Training consisted of a lot of rucking and some running. I got in an 18 miler that felt great and also did a 19hr custom event where we put in more miles than the marathon, under a lot more weight. Mentally I was prepared. My body however, decided to tell me a different story, despite what I thought was a solid, although not perfect, training plan.

I headed to DC on Saturday night to hit the expo and attend the TMF dinner. It was an incredible opportunity to hear Monica tell her story and what TMF meant to her. It helped solidify the WHY for me. Then it was early to bed and ready for the day.

I had planned to get up super early and grab an uber from my hotel to the TMF hotel in the morning. It was only about 8 miles away. But uber was impossible and the metro would've taken me over an hour for some reason! So instead I took the Marriott shuttle to the metro station and just headed directly to the start, which wasn't direct at all. We ended up walking over 1.5 miles to the start village.

Trash bag fashion!

Based on someone else's gps because I forgot my watch (error #who knows on my part) I dropped a bag of dry clothes at the UPS trucks and headed to the potties. At this point it had started raining pretty hard and it was forecasted to continue for most of the day. As I walked into the port a pot, my phone rang. I answered it, deciding it was the safest place to actually take my phone out of my dry bag. Plus it meant I could hang out in a dry spot for a few more minutes. I had a giant contractor trash bag over myself and my ruck, so I was relatively dry. However, my feet were already soaked. Good thing I had those amazing smart wool socks.

I managed to find Michael and the TMF crew in the start corrals. We ditched our trash bags for rain jackets and waited until the gun went off. We started about 5 minutes after the actual start of the race.

Marine Corps Marathon 2019
Miles 1-7
Michael and I had talked about race strategy. I had one, but had forgotten my watch which was a big part of that plan, so I ended up having to adjust. His plan was to bank enough time on the first half to be able to just "beat the bridge". If you don't know, there is a minimum pace requirement of 14min/mile at this race. There are two gauntlets (miles 17 and 22) along with the "beat the bridge" cutoff at mile 20. If you don't hit those distances within the time range, you get put on a bus and your day is done. Based on my training I should have been able to run/ruck interval about a 12:30 pace overall, which meant the first several miles would likely have been a bit faster. 

Once we started moving, I knew immediately something wasn't quite right. I hoped it was simply the need to warm up, so I waited it out until about mile 4-5. I realized the tightness, fatigue and pain was not going to go away and I was going to have to figure out how to work through it. At about mile 7, Michael was having a rough moment from having a stomach bug not 48 hours prior and we decided to split up. It wasn't but 3-4 minutes after that, when the rain that was continuous up until that point, started to come down in buckets. The BEST part, we were on an out and back section of the course. So there were people streaming in both directions and as the rain got heavier and stronger, the cheers of the runners got louder. THIS is my kind of crazy. I LOVED it. Yes, my feet were wet and I literally had water running UNDER and down my tights, but it was glorious. We were alive and the rain simply reminded you that you were only in control of so much.

Miles 8-11
At about mile 9.5 I ran into Susan and Dawn, it was such a welcome distraction and ALWAYS great to see familiar faces during a race. I wasn't feeling great, but they were nothing but positive and encouraging. I knew my friend Kristin was at the 10.5mile aid station so I mentally pushed myself to just get to her and then I could take a quick snack break. Getting that soggy, wet hug from Kristin was AWESOME! I knew the day was going to be miserable, I was now simply taking the race in very small segments. Get from 9.5 t0 10.5 to see Kristin. Done.

The Blue Mile - Mile 12-13 
THIS IS WHY. There's a mile out on Hains point, from 12-13 that is lined with photos of those we've lost. I was hurting at this point and simply trying to run through 4 lamp posts and then walk 2. I REFUSED to walk through this mile. If those men and women were not returning home to their families, some of their families I now knew, I could continue to shuffle my sorry feet through the pouring rain. I tried my best to look at each photo. I stopped when I saw LCDR Landon Jones and touched his photo. I said, "I never met you. But your wife is a badass and is raising two amazing little men. Thank you for your sacrifice and your service". I also took a quick moment to acknowledge Lt (SEAL) Brendan Looney and thank him for the legacy he left behind. The rain was POURING at this point and it was probably a good thing, as it was helping to mask my tears and even a little of the ugly cry as I continued to run this mile. The last section of the mile, is volunteer upon volunteer holding American flags. Again, cue the ugly cry and refusal to walk. I met a nice, really tall man, who was doing his second marathon and somehow our cadence was exactly the same. We fist bumped at the end of the mile, as we both slowed to a walk and acknowledged silently the sacrifices we were trying to honor. We then ran together for another mile or two, agreeing upon which lamp post was our carrot.

Miles 14-16
Once we were off Hains Point and making our way back towards the mall, the crowds began to get bigger. However, my body was still fighting everything I was trying to make it do. I felt like I had no energy, my muscles were super tight and like I had already finished 30 miles instead of about 15. Around mile 16, I ran into Susan and Dawn again. I think I may have said something about not being sure I was going to be able to finish, but again they were enthusiastic and encouraging. It was JUST enough to keep me pushing through mile 17 which was the first gauntlet. 

Miles 17-20
At this point, I knew I had 75 minutes to make it 3 miles to the bridge and I was fairly confident I could do that. But let me tell you, those 3 miles were long and hard. Yes, we ran by the national monument and the capitol building but I could've cared less. I managed to crack a smile at the politically funny sign a man was holding outside the Capitol building, but that was about it. I was hurting and I was in my head, but I had to find SOMETHING to keep me moving forward because my legs were just not on the plan. Then I saw some TMF folks cheering and taking pictures.

I faked like I was having the time of my life, but then told them I felt HORRIBLE. Again, lots of encouragement and just enough mental "juice" to get me to the bridge.

Miles 21-23
I made it to the bridge or at least what I thought was the "beat the bridge" spot. I had been building this up in my head. I don't know why I was expecting fanfare and a damn ticker tape parade, but that's what I was hoping for. When we got there, I wasn't even sure I was "there". But once I spent about 3/4 mile ON a bridge, I realized I had made it. This is the first point where I really had a HUGE mental struggle. I wanted to quit. I wanted to be done. My body was refusing to play along, my mind wanted to finish this, but I couldn't seem to get the two to play together. So I started thinking about what mental games I could play that would get me to the next mile marker only. That's it. I couldn't think about the fact that I still had just over 5 miles to go or I would've just sat on that bridge until someone made me move. A few TMF guys happened by while I was sitting there changing into dry socks. They made sure I was ok and that I was just changing socks and would continue on. Yes, those socks were too hot for the increasing temperatures and now dry weather, but they were DRY! I taped one toe and hoisted that ruck back on my back. And then, there she was, CARLEY! With a big smile and a big hug and a pace I could barely match. She talked, I just kept up. She handed me a tiny cup of beer when we got to Crystal City and we kept moving. 

Mile 23-26
Somewhere around mile 23 I lost Carley as I stopped to say hi to Carmela and Lacey, two badass babes from DMV GRT. They were all smiles and hugs and "get your ass moving again" motivation. After we moved out of Crystal City it was already hot and humid. I'm not sure I've really emphasized how terrible I felt. I had a hard time putting one foot in front of the other. At points, I was not walking a straight line and I was not talking to anyone, but my only goal had become forward momentum, even if it was slow and that took every ounce of my concentration. My mind was starting to listen to my body, which is usually the opposite of how these things go. But I was so close, I knew in the back of my mind I had to keep moving forward.

Then Alex and Heather caught up to me. Alex had completed a tough the night before and was in charge of "rounding us up and making sure everyone finished". And he was GREAT at it. There was just enough chatter to keep you distracted, an offer of something from his flask (which I sadly had to decline) and a little motivation music. Once we saw the 26 mile sign, he and Heather stopped to wait for the remaining ruckers to finish. A guy running the marathon shuffled along beside me and started chatting my ear off about GORUCK, he had seen Jason McCarthy (the founder) on the course and he had done a few events, so he recognized my ruck. He told me a story about how his Dad thought he was crazy for completing a marathon. I shared the story of how my Mom drew me a picture of her having a heart attack at the finish line of my Ironman and said, "please don't do this again" because she was so worried. We laughed at our well meaning parents. We managed to keep each other moving until we got to the finish line shoot. 

Finish Line
As you come into the finish, there are literally Marines lined up, cheering you on and giving you high fives. Even people like me, that snuck in JUST under 7 hours get the same level of enthusiasm from these men and women. I managed what felt like a run, but likely looked more like a new born calf.

The Medal
And THEN, the moment that Susie Montoya had told/warned me about. The moment I had been thinking about the ENTIRE race. You finish and there are Marine's lined up single file, shoulder to shoulder. You walk up and they stand at attention, salute you, place your medal around your neck and shake your hand offering congratulations. This had been on my mind quite literally the entire race, for many reasons. One, it's truly an honor to get a salute and an opportunity to thank these young men and women for their service. Two, there's no other race I know of that does something quite like this. Sure the half marathon where I was presented with a Tiffany's box by a man in a tuxedo was cool and all, but this was just really special. Three, I was legitimately stressing about what I would say and if I would just ugly cry in this poor Marine's face. The positive about spending almost 7 hours on a course, is that you have time to think about and perfect your response. You also get a sense of exactly how long you have before the tears come. So the Marine, I believe his name was Lutz, saluted, placed my medal, shook my hand and said congratulations. I held his hand for a split second longer and said, "You sir, are the reason why I did not quit today. A friend told me about this moment and I knew I couldn't miss it. Thank you for your service" and I got the heck out of there before I ugly cried in his face. 

This is an incredible race. Even though I had a horrible time and really struggled out there, I would HIGHLY recommend it. The logistics are extremely challenging. It took me TWO hours to get back to my hotel after I finished the race. But the atmosphere of the race is incredible. The crowd support, even in the torrential downpour, was amazing. Yes, it was long and there were lots of challenges along the way, but it was worth it. Would I do it again? See my responses from above. No. I'm done for real this time. :) 


I am not an overly spiritual person but I can tell you, at every critical point in this race SOMEONE showed up. It may have been someone I knew, someone I expected or a random stranger, but there was someone with a high five or word of encouragement that gave me just a tiny burst of energy. Of course there were a few "dark spots" where I was alone and in my head and those were the moments where I just continued to think about my WHY. Because I am alive, because I can. If not me, then who...

Some other fun photos I took.....
(Unfortunately there are not many from the race because it was pouring and I refuse to pay marathonfoto so much for one or two images.)

My "yard sale" after the race
while trying to get my life together.

The race shirt.
Love this thought.

GORUCK Tough++ - Battle of Mogadishu Custom 3-4 Oct 2019

Our Squadron

I've gotten a lot of questions about GORUCK and these "crazy events" I keep doing, so I thought it might be time to dust off the old blog and write another race report or in this case, an AAR. This one will be SUPER long, just like the event but there's no other way to do it justice.

Background to set the stage for those unfamiliar:
RUCK•ING [VERB] // Walking with a weighted rucksack (aka backpack). It implies action, energy, and purpose. Rucking requires strength, endurance, and character -- and builds it, too.*

GORUCK Founded by a Green Beret, GORUCK is an American brand with Special Forces roots. Excellence, toughness, and adaptability are the pillars of our way of life, which influence how we do, what we do.*

GORUCK EVENTS ALWAYS A TEAM EVENT, NEVER A RACE.

Based on Special Forces training, your class is led from start to finish by a Special Forces Cadre. His job is to test your limits, push you beyond them, and build your class into a team. There are no cash prizes at the finish. All you earn is a 2x3 inch patch and the respect of everyone to your left and right.*

*Visit www.goruck.com for more info

Severn River Hydro burpees

Last year, I was looking for a new challenge. After years of doing endurance events, cycling, running and triathlon and after having Paxton I realized training for 3 sports and raising a tiny human along with the demands of my job was just no longer enjoyable. I felt like I needed something new. I had seen some random rumblings of this thing called GORUCK, but didn't really know anyone who did these types of events regularly.  Even after looking at the website, I still wasn't sure what I was getting into but decided I was going to train for a light (6 hour event) and give it a go. In November of 2018, I participated in my first event lead by Cadre Belman, a Delta Force Operator. His event was shadowed by Cadre Igor, who had just finished the tough event the night before and Cadre Chris. It was everything I had hoped for. Lots of coupons (random weights including water jugs, sandbags, logs, etc), hydro burpees in the Severn river and some training from Cadre Chris on how to escape certain situations and how to execute a sleeper hold! We got to endex (the end of the event) and I got my patch. I was hooked. Fast forward past 2 more lights and a tough (12 hour event starting at 9pm) and I signed up to do Cadre Igor's custom event in Detroit in honor of the Battle of Mogadishu.

Battle of Mogadishu - 3-4 October 1993

If this isn't ringing any bells, then think "Blackhawk Down". Yes, the movie based on the actual battle. The custom event was to run the same exact timeline as the battle, from 1500 on 3 Oct to approximately 0800 on 4 Oct and was being run by Cadre Igor, Delta Force Operator, F team who was part of the mission in 1993. He was also assisted by Cadre L DB a Green Beret. 

Disclaimer: This event was 19 hours. I flew in on a 0845 flight from Baltimore and returned home on a 1255 flight the next day. I spent a total of 26 hours on the ground in Detroit 19 of them were part of the event. My memory is a bit foggy, so I'll do my best to recount some of the major parts in the general order of when they occurred.

1455 - We arrived at the start point and did our typical admin process. Then Cadres broke us up into troop 1 and 2, within each troop we had 3 teams of 4 and one team of 5. I was part of troop 2, Echo team. Each troop had the following coupons, a 4' log (telephone pole), 2 120* pound sandbags, 1 80* pound sandbag, 2 60* pound sandbags and 1 40* pound sandbag. Note the * after each weight, that's intentional. It seems pretty standard that in GORUCK events both weight and distance are somewhat subjective. I can tell you most of the sandbags were MUCH heavier than their declared weight. Kind of like the weight listed on my license, go figure. That's 480* pounds per 17 person team, including the required weight you had in your ruck (20 if you weigh <150 and 30 otherwise, plus water, food and gear). Then we had the team items; 1 American flag, 2 Battle of Mogadishu flags, 1 Ranger tab (25* pounds) and a random heavy and awkward green bag that we assumed was a litter (spoiler, it was not. Thank goodness!).

Tunnel of Love

3 Oct 1993

1500 - We sang the national anthem and then Cadre began to tell us his experiences on the mid-afternoon of 3 Oct 1993. Then we got the code word that the mission was a go. IRENE! We sang American the Beautiful. We then had a team competition, the "tunnel of love" to determine which troop would get the honor of carrying the American flag and leading the squadron during our first movement. Tunnel of love is always fun when you're on the shorter end like me. When some of the bigger guys come through, they literally picked me off my feet as they tried to crawl through.

1532 - We moved out on our first and longest movement, 5 miles to another park. Each troop was required to be responsible for their own weights. Troop 2 was in the lead which meant carrying the American flag, the Battle of Mogadishu flag and the Ranger tab. We also had the miscellaneous green bag, which we should've handed off to troop 1 but we would figure that out later.

1620 - Super 6-1 was hit by an RPG. We stopped our movement and Cadre shared what had happened up to this point. Two clan leaders were captured along with 21 others in the first 30 minutes, but there was confusion with the convoy that was to pick them up. Once Super 6-1 went down, the mission changed and it was imperative that the crash site be secured.

A little playground PT

We arrived at the final point on our movement behind our time hack. We had significant challenges in the first 2 miles moving coupons and keeping a descent pace. As we spent more time together, we began figuring out how to effectively work as a team, but it would take a bit longer for us to figure it out. We got more of the timeline and then got in some work doing the UBRR (upper body round robin). Push-ups (4ct), sit-ups (4ct), pull-ups, dips. We also did overhead presses, thrusters and flutter kicks. All in reps of 19 to honor the 19 lives lost in this battle. After a few minutes for bio breaks and to refuel we were on the move again.

1640 - The convoy is lost and Super 6-4 is also hit by an RPG and goes down. Mike Durant is the pilot, and would later be captured and released due to the heroic efforts by Shughart and Gordan. 

We are on the move to another location and once the sunsets my memory starts to become foggy as to how many movements we did and for how long. I know they ranged from 1.7 - 3.5 miles but I couldn't tell you how many we did. In total we moved about 24-27 miles through the entire event. Along the way, the challenge becomes rotating the coupons as they get heavy while continuing to move forward and keep the formation as tight as possible. 

At one of our stops we begin sharing biographies of the soldiers lost in this battle. Each person was assigned someone and in groups we shared their stories, their successes and the legacy they left behind. I shared my bio much later into the event, just as the sun was about to rise, but for flow I'll share it now. Amy and I both were assigned SPC James Cavaco or Vaco as he was known. We carried his name on a patch on our rucks throughout the event. Amy shared his life and military details. He was a weapons specialist that grew up in Massachusetts, who found his meaning when he joined the military and in particular special operations. I shared a few personal stories which included the fact that he liked to play guitar in a rock band, so we celebrated his life by playing "Big Gun" which was released by AC/DC earlier in 1993. Vaco was quoted by his mother as saying, "I can't believe I get paid to do this!" and with that statement we challenged our fellow teammates to find their purpose and passion in life and by doing so, honor those that can no longer pursue theirs.

Fast roping!

At some point around midnight (damn clock in the gym) we found a local crossfit gym to do some "training". Cadre decided to teach us two of the skills needed by Delta Force, fast roping and CQB (close-quarters battle) or clearing a room in a 4 person team. Both Cadre demonstrated how to fast rope from both a standing (not typical in their birds) and seated position and spoke about how dropping from 90+ feet is not nearly as fun as our 8-10 foot practice runs. After a few rounds on the ropes, we them moved on to CQB. Remember that mysterious green bag that we thought was a litter? It was a bag of guns! Not real guns, but training guns for this next session. I've literally never been so happy to see a bag of fire arms in my life because it meant no litter and no Randall (those who did D-Day tough know what I mean). For the rest of you, Randall was an 180lb dummy we had to carry for 12 hours at another event. No one wanted to carry Randall. Anyway, I digress. Cadre showed us how to move as a team of four into a room and clear it. Some teams managed to look like they knew what they were doing and others looked like a bunch of kids who were playing soldier in the backyard. But we had fun and got to do some team building without weight! Back into the night we went on our next movement.

2323 - A new rescue convoy composed of two companies of 10th Mt. Division troops along with the remainder of Task Force Ranger, Pakistani tanks and Malaysian armored vehicles moves out to bring back the remaining 99 men. 

It's pitch black, pretty damn cold with a low around 52 and still super wet from the rain earlier in the day. Cadre decides this is a great time to quiz us on our knowledge of the battle. And these aren't just softball lob questions, they make you think when your brain is just wanting to shut down.

We managed to squeak out 2/3 and were rewarded with losing a sandbag. But you would think that was simple.......apparently not, as we didn't do it right and were later appropriately punished. So, this is where it starts to get really tough. It's dark, you have no idea if it's 2000 or 0400, you're tired, the weights seem to get heavier and occasionally there's an "avocado". Avocado was Amy and I's code word if someone was being a giant a--hole. I will say, we only had one or two moments and then it was over and that's to be expected at any event. It's dark, people are tired and cold and what do the Cadre do? They find the biggest, steepest, wettest hill and design a troop and team challenge. Troop 1 versus troop 2, winner gets an unnamed reward and loser will likely get some PT. Within

each troop we had 3 groups of 4 and one of 5. Each group had to take a turn carrying one of the 120 pound sandbags up the hill and then reverse bear crawling back down. The next team would bear crawl up and bring the sand bag down and so on until each team went up and down twice. First troop to finish, won. Troop 2 did not win this one. I'm pretty sure our punishment was 19 4ct push ups in the soggy grass, but it's all a blur at this point. Hooah!

4 Oct 1993

0155 - Rescue convoy reaches the second crash site and they continue to try to remove Wocott's body from the downed bird. This would take several hours and a true testament to living the Ranger Creed, "I will never leave a fallen comrade to fall into the hands of the enemy". 

Goodbye Karen!

At this point we have made a few more movements and are slowly moving forward with slightly less weight but still the majority of our coupons intact. We come to our next stop and share a few more bios and talk about the hours that Delta Force and the Rangers spent waiting for help to arrive. Cadre had a brilliant idea. Each troop had a 4' telephone pole that we had been carrying since 1500 yesterday. As a troop, each team member would have 10 strikes of an axe on the log. The team that got through the log the fastest in 10 minutes won. Troop 2 chopped right through our log with 3 minutes remaining, troop 1 was not far behind. Being the losers, they had a choice to make; carry the 2 pieces of log back to the start point OR do PT of the Cadres choosing. They wisely chose PT. 19 8ct manmakers, then we all "returned" the logs to nature under a giant tree.

0530 - Vehicles begin to move out of Mogadishu, while several Rangers and Delta Force were still on foot. This is what is referred to as the Mog mile. The soldiers ran by foot to a rendezvous point and were then brought to the Pakistani stadium.

Our final movement was about 4* miles. We knew the end was in sight but it was a long movement after a long event and it was a struggle. No one really wanted to be under a coupon, everyone struggled to put one foot in front of the other, but everyone pitched in when they could, carried a little, carried a lot, carried for a few minutes or a mile. The team pulled together and we made it to the end point.

As Cadre gave us a recap, we shared the final bio of SPC Matt Rierson who was killed 2 days later in a mortar attack taking the final count of lives lost to 19. As is typical GORUCK fashion, we grabbed a beer and toasted those we were there to honor and our teammates. Cadre shared that when they got to the Pakistani stadium they were fed, rice, hummus and pita so we shared in some hummus and pita as well. It was the best damn hummus I've had yet!

Endex 4 Oct 0900

19 hours

Troop 2

Recap - First, it was an honor to be able to do this event. To listen to both Cadre's stories; Cadre Igor's from the Battle of Mogadishu and Cadre L DB's from Operation Restore Hope, really makes you think about how can I, as a civilian, contribute to making our world a better place. To literally walk the timeline of the battle and think of what it must have been like to be pinned down, unsure of if/when help would arrive as your friends are wounded and dying around you, really makes you get out of your own head. When you're tired and sore and just over carrying an 80* pound sandbag, the reality that those men went through is enough to shut down your pity party and make you get back to work. 

I walk into every event with self-doubt because no matter how fit and ready you are, these events will push you to your limit. I was well prepared for our miles and PT. I didn't feel as confident when it came to the coupons. But these are team events, you do what you can do, you improvise and you work your ass off. If you're the person who rolls in knowing they can carry 80* pounds the entire time, guess what, you'll be under that 80* and then probably the 120* and doing other things because that's what the team needs. If you can't carry a 120, then you're sharing it with someone or you're

carrying something smaller for a bit longer. Whatever you think you're prepared for, you'll be pushed beyond that to support your team. I love being pushed beyond what my mind thinks I can do and that's why I'll keep coming back to these events, because no matter what you think you can do, you WILL do more.

Thank you to Dean organizing so this event could happen. Thank you to Echo for being the best damn group. Sean, Bruce and Brent you guys are AMAZING! Thank you to Troop 2 for working together and crushing it. Thank you to the whole squadron for making this event incredible. Thank you to Cadre L DB for your sense of humor in your stories and for not only telling us to get our act together but helping us get there. Last but not least, thank you Cadre Igor for sharing your story of Mogadishu, the stories of your fallen brothers and for pushing us to do more

and be more everyday. 

2 Challenges if you've made it this far:

1 - Find your passion. What would you do all day every day if you were able? Because there are many men and women out there that pursued that passion for our country and are now no longer with us.

2 - Be an American worth fighting for.

Puerto Rico - Fuerza, Amor y Esperanza

A few months ago, I saw a post on social media from a local Pastor and neighbor, sharing details on the opportunity to volunteer in Puerto Rico. Since my trip to Kenya in 2008, I've been hoping to do another "volunteering vacation" and this seemed like the perfect opportunity. I'm going to share my experience, but my intent is for you to stop and think. Do your best to forget your experience, your foundation of knowledge and life experience and TRY to imagine another reality, the reality of our Puerto Rican neighbors. This may be hard and you may find yourself asking things like, "why didn't they do this? or "why didn't they do that?", when you do, take a step back and realize your life experience is likely very different and acknowledge that you only know parts of their story. Just pause and feel for a moment, feel the fear, the sorrow, the devastating losses but also the incredible, infallable hope that Puerto Rico embodies.

I arrived on Saturday, a day before the rest of the crew, and was able to spend a few hours relaxing by

View from La Concha Resort

the pool and enjoying some local food before the work began. When you think of Puerto Rico, this is probably what pops into your mind. While this is what most of Condado looks like, there are still MAJOR hotels and resorts that are still not open. I met a man on Thursday evening, who has been out of work since Maria. The Conquistador (where he worked and a HUGE resort here in PR) is only open in a very limited fashion, thus most of the employees are still unsure on when they can return to work. He was working part-time at a small bar to make ends meet until maybe 2019 or 2020? He still has no definitive date to return to his job. Maria hit Puerto Rico on September 20th, 2017. Pause and think about that for a moment......

23 week 1 volunteers & our camp hosts

On Sunday, I met the group of 23 volunteers at the airport and we loaded into 4 Kia Sedona minivans and headed to the camp where we'd be staying for the week (some of those volunteers for 2 weeks). Our camp consisted of several bunkhouses, a common room with a kitchen, swimming pool,
basketball (sans rims & nets) court, a large grassy field and a flock of about 8 roosters living next door. Feedback from our hosts is that the camp sustained minimal damage due to Maria, but was still impacted with lack of power, etc. Imagine ELEVEN months without power. Nearly a year of running a generator, cooking over a fire, no hot water or other comforts we take for granted. Can you go a week without  power?

Monday and Tuesday we spent the days working on projects at the camp, so that it would be ready to host the many other volunteers that will come after our group. We emptied a storage shed, sorted through YEARS of items, organized and then returned all the usable goods to the shed.

Contents of the storage shed

We power washed half of their VERY large basketball court. In the weeks after Maria, they used this space to host church services for their neighbors. We sorted clothes that had been donated. We put a new coat of sealant on the roof of the common room. We worked each day until about 3pm and then took some trips to local spots. Wal-Mart was an unexpected cultural experience. It was crowded and lively and had an energy to it, even at 9pm on Sunday and Monday nights. We took a few short trips to local beaches, to recharge and relax and enjoy the tranquility that Puerto Rico is known for. Regardless of where we went, Wal-Mart, a local restaurant, local bar, etc the overwhelming warmth and hospitality of our Puerto Rican neighbors was incredible.

Wednesday through Friday we spent the days working on a local church and house in Toa Baja.

We peeled and scraped paint from walls that were under water. We power washed walls and sidewalks to make them safe for the elderly congregation. We painted and painted and painted some more. We had 23 sets of hands and still there was so much we wanted to accomplish that we couldn't get to. Imagine your family working to fix and restore your own home. How long would it take you to repair the damage? Our Puerto Rican neighbors shared so many stories about community and their culture. They shared how the church was a place for nourishment, both for your spirit and your body. They served hundreds of meals after Maria. As if feeding hundreds of people isn't challenging enough, imagine doing it without power and without a grocery store stocked with the necessary ingredients. On Friday, we arrived at the church around 9am and noticed many peopled lined up on the streets with umbrellas and chairs and music. We weren't sure what was going on, but thought maybe it was a market. It seemed so lively and fun. After chatting with several neighbors we learned that it was a private food pantry. It was supported and funded by a local woman who raised the money for food by visiting local businesses. People had been in line since midnight, and by 3pm they had gotten to number 80. One person sitting there since the night before was number 150. If you've never had to worry where your next meal was coming from, it's hard to imagine the feelings that must come along with sitting outside for 10+ hours to get food for your family.

In the afternoon on Thursday we took a trip to El Yunque, the only rainforest in the US National Forest system. It was absolutely breathtaking. And it was still glaringly obvious the devastation that Maria had caused. Many roads/trails were still closed, the vegetation was still clearly impacted and many of the small shops along the park were still closed. We enjoyed some relaxation with a short hike to a

Security at the closed road & our group

swimming spot and a rope swing. Then we headed to Fajardo and Laguna Grande to kayak at night through the bioluminescent bay. This is an incredible experience and I've now done it on both of my trips to Puerto Rico. You get into your kayaks in a shallow beach, in the dark. You then paddle through a mangrove channel that gets darker and darker, as the mangroves get thicker and thicker. About 30 minutes in, if you're looking at the water  you'll notice the water begins to glow whenever you paddle. The glowing waters are caused by dinoflagellates, which are microscopic organisms that light up due to a chemical reaction, in response to movement in the water. There are only five bioluminescent bays in the world and three of them are in Puerto Rico. Friday we had dinner in Condado and then spent the later hours of the night in Old San Juan enjoying the merengue band and dancing at Latin Roots. You know you've picked the right dance club when you are by far the minority as tourists and the party doesn't really get going until about midnight. It made for an exhausting but perfect final night in Puerto Rico.

Throughout this trip our neighbors in Puerto Rico taught us what true strength was, they shared their stories of survival and hope. Some losing everything; homes, pets, family members, others with their four walls and family intact but still dealing with the trauma of surviving a category 4 hurricane on an island that is less than a third the size of Maryland. What most people don't realize is that it takes YEARS to rebuild from a storm like Maria. Immediately after the storm there are the impacts we see on the news, finding loved ones, cleaning water damage, logistics of distributing supplies and aid and in the case of Puerto Rico, getting power back to the island. What happens now, 12 months later to an island that was devastated by a hurricane? Now is when the real challenges begin. Insurance money (if there was any) begins to run out, jobs are still not available, people are beginning to lose their homes because they can't afford their rent/mortgage. Imagine living through the horror of a category 4 storm on the island, not being able to get food due to roads being impassable and 11 months without power. You've survived what you thought was the worst, only to realize that you're now faced with losing your home because the economy is just as slow to recover.

I think many of us came on this trip hoping to help our neighbors, to provide strength from our hands and our hearts to help them rebuild. What happened was quite the opposite. I think the photo of the uprooted tree tells a perfect story of Puerto Rico. Even when you're completely uprooted and your entire way of being has changed, there is strength, there is beauty, there is pride and there is hope.



More photos from the trip: https://www.facebook.com/elysia.roser/media_set?set=a.10106856403554369&type=3&uploaded=39
For others reflections: https://demdsynod.org/category/building-puentes/
To donate (click on PayPal link at bottom of page): http://www.breathofgodlc.org/welcome/serve

Country Roads, take me home......

This post will be a departure from my normal blog posts about athletic endeavors, but I felt compelled to put my thoughts into text.

In 2002, I transferred from Arizona State University to West Virginia University for reasons that aren't relevant here. I had never been to West Virginia until the day I packed my little 1992 Plymouth Laser to the brim and followed another car with a flying WV sticker on it, into Morgantown. This marked the beginning of three amazing years of my life.

There's something indescribable about not only WVU, but the state of West Virginia. To sound completely cliche and quote John Denver, it truly is "almost heaven". After having lived in the desert for 2 years, I think I may have shed a tear when that first fall arrived and the trees revealed the most beautiful natural artwork I had ever seen. And there's certainly something to be said about the people from West Virginia, friendly, down to earth and tons of fun, plus they REALLY love football and beer. I'll never forget getting into an argument with my first roommate, Lindsay over what a toboggan was. If you don't know what a toboggan is in upstate NY versus WV, let me enlighten you. In a tiny little dorm room, Lindsay is searching frantically for her "toboggan". Toboggan as I knew growing up here. I'm thinking and saying, "you don't have a toboggan here, it won't fit in our room. What are you talking about?". Toboggan she was referencing here. You can see why we weren't quite on the same page with this one. Regardless, spending three years in West Virginia and traveling to places like Oak Hill (pronounced O'Kill if you're from there) left an indelible impression on me.

While I did not grow up in West Virginia, or spend many years there, I feel as if it's somehow become a part of me. It's hard to describe, but when I hear Country Roads and sing the words, "take me home", in those moments it feels like home and I miss it immensely. It's not the home I grew up in, or the home I grew to know after many years, but a special place in my life and my heart that will always be there. It's a feeling, a connection that's pretty much indescribable.

So when I watched my Facebook feed and news channels start to report the destruction from the recent floods, my heart ached. My connection to WV lives through my friends, some of whom still live in WV or who's families are still there. Their childhood towns decimated by floodwaters and their friends and families directly affected by the devastation. Places they remember visiting as a child, completely under water.

While the sadness was swift to set in, the stories of community and support that started to emerge from the mud were what I remembered of West Virginia. Brad Paisley brought heightened national attention and donations for the flood victims, by starting a GoFundMe account and raising over $500K. WVU Alumnus Ken Kendrick pledged to match $500K worth of alumni donations. My fellow Chi Omega and friend Chelsea runs the Kanawha-Charleston Animal Shelter. She spent, and continues to spend, countless hours providing food, coordinating and donating medical care and reuniting pets who's families likely lost everything. These are the stories, these are the people that make West Virginia great and make it "home" to so many of us that only spent a brief time there.

So what's the purpose of the blog really? Well part of it, was to try and explain an inexplicable connection that I feel, so in that respect I have failed. I can only hope that you have the same sort of connection to something in your life, so you will understand the feeling. The second part of it, was to hopefully raise some awareness and convince you to donate. I've linked donation pages in the text above. So if you've spent several minutes reading this post, please take another 2 minutes and support the relief efforts.

Thanks for reading & thanks for donating today!

~e

Race Report: Church Creek Time Trial (Rain, Wind & Pancake Puppies)

When I purchased my first bike back in 2011, I had no intentions of doing triathlons, but somehow that's where I ended up. It's a wonder it's taken me this long to do my first cycling race. But then again, I purchased a road bike without knowing anyone else who owned one and without knowing how to change the gears. True story, I took my bike out to the park to practice using my spin shoes and ended up walking it home because I couldn't figure out how to down shift. I got out the owners manual, flipped the bike upside down and figured it out. Boy have we come a long way! 

So fast forward to 2016. I've decided to take a break from long distance triathlon and really any sort of hard, scheduled training plan. This year I wanted to just do the workouts I felt like doing, not the one's I HAD to do. Over the last year, I'd heard some talk of a women's racing team out of 90+ cycling and I was kind of intrigued. I decided I was going to check it out. I looked at the race schedule and decided I would try a few time trials before jumping into any other races.

For those who don't know what a time trial is a detailed explanation is here. A summary is basically that each rider starts individually and races against the clock. Lowest times win within your category. This particular time trial was 40K (just under 25 miles) and held on the eastern shore of Maryland. The eastern shore is known for it's lack of elevation and is notoriously windy.

I looked at the local schedule and the first TT I could attend was May 21st in Church Creek, MD. I thought, "Ok, flat but windy. I can do that". I convinced Roy to join me and we both signed up.

Pre-Race:
As the week got shorter, the weather forecast remained the same. Cold (50's) and rainy (100% chance). It looked like it was going to be miserable and a monsoon. The event website said they ride, rain or shine, so I decided that I had already put my mind to racing, so I was going to just figure out a way to deal with the weather. The pre-race communication was non-existant. I didn't get an email after I signed up and the website was a bit confusing referencing a high school and middle school, but no name or address and I couldn't seem to find it on a map. In comes the experienced 90+ teammates to the rescue. I have to say a HUGE thank you to both Nick and Nate for being so informative, supportive and responsive. As my prerace nerves were on the rise and the fact that I knew NOTHING of what to expect except rain, I was getting a bit anxious. Nick and Nate answered every question I had from what to wear, to the address of where to park, to the fact that "packet pick up" was simply picking up your number.  Roy and I, or better yet, Fred and Doris, were on their way to their first road race! :)

Fred & Doris

Race Day:
Roy and I left Baltimore at about 7:15am and arrived at the parking lot around 9:15. It was raining pretty hard when we arrived, so we took our time and tried to get dressed in the car. I figured we should stay dry and warm as long as possible because we had a solid probably 2 hours of being cold and wet, when you calculate in the transfer time from parking lot to start and back. 

Before the race

My start time was 10:20:30 so we left the parking lot around 9:35 just to give ourselves plenty of time. I opted for my Thermo Fisher cycling kit (because I didn't get a chance to connect with John or Nate to get Christine's 90+ jersey), arm sleeves, long fingered gloves and booties. I wore Ramsy's giant Hilti rain jacket to the start to try and stay as dry as possible. I figured I SHOULD be working so hard that I would be warm, regardless of the wind and rain. We got to the start line and it was simply a 10x10 tent on the right lane of the road. ABRT, who put on the race had a tech tent by a port a pot and they let us leave our rain jackets there, use the facilities and Steve/Scott(?) talked us through what to expect and told us to just go and have fun.

TOTALLY fake happy face

Then we rode back over to start. The girl in front of me had a bit of a stutter, so I ended up starting about 10 seconds after my start time, but no big deal or at least I hope I didn't take those extra 10 seconds into my time. Off I went. I really had no game plan except to ride hard the entire time. I settled into low zone 5 HR and just kept making sure I had steady cadence and good pressure in the legs. My average RPM of 96 was pretty good, considering I didn't have that metric on my display. A time trial is lonely. You are out there racing, ALL by yourself. I passed the two women in front of me within the first 2 miles and then didn't see anyone until the very end. And honestly, there's not much to say about this course. It's pancake flat. It was raining sometimes hard, sometimes light, but I was soaked within a few minutes. I had to take off my glasses because they kept fogging up and I couldn't see the road. A few times the grooves in the road were causing deep puddles, so I adjusted where I was riding when necessary. At one point, my bike started to drift towards the edge of the road, it was odd I had all I could do to correct it and I heard the lose gravel kick out as I almost went into the grass and certainly into the overflowing ditch. That would have been a terribly hilarious story to tell, but luckily it was avoided. My garmin was totally off on my mileage for some reason, so I just tried to pay attention to the course markers to understand where I was on the course. The first half of the course had a wicked tailwind. I was cruising, but of course as we all know, a tailwind eventually turns into a headwind and the last 12 miles were excruciating. It took me about 33 minutes to ride the first half, which would equate to about 22.7mph. Then I rode the second half in about 42 minutes, which would equate to about 17.7mph, which doesn't sound too bad, but boy did it hurt, as evidenced by my face at the finish.

Real hurting face

I somehow missed the sign for 15K left and was riding along thinking, this is the longest, most painful 5K EVER and then I saw the 10K left sign and thought, "thank god!". I could JUST barely see someone in front of me, so I thought maybe I'll try to add a few gears and try to close the gap. Nope. I had all I could do to hang on. I crossed the finish line, which to be honest, I wasn't a 100% sure it was actually the finish (It was a blue van with these weird panels to catch your bib) and rode down the road a bit thinking, "I hope I really am done". I grabbed our jackets from the tech tent and rode back up the course to catch Roy and found him just a few minutes after he had finished. Then we had the wonderful pleasure of riding 5.5 miles back to the car. My legs were cooked. I dropped into my small gear and I had all I could do to keep my legs moving, forget about any sort of cadence. This big stupid truck with a trailer on it, decided it had to back into the driveway and didn't get it straight in. So he stopped, pulled out and tried again. So we had to stop and wait for him to finish what he was doing. I was TERRIFIED that if I took my foot out of my pedal and stood up, I wasn't going to be able to get going again. Luckily, that was not the case. Off we went back to the car.

We got back to the car, changed into dry clothes and walked over to check results. Turns out I took 4th in my category out of 9. My only goals were to not come in last and not get hypothermia and I succeeded in both! Then we headed to Denny's for a gigantic breakfast, including the delicious pancake puppies (think hush puppies, made with pancake batter), hot chocolate and a lot of other yummy food.

So lessons learned from my first time trial. It hurts to go hard. Rain and cold aren't nearly as bad as you think they are. Racing against the clock is tricky (I missed 3rd place by 5.3 seconds, but to a 90+ teammate so it's all good). Hot cocoa and fried pancakes are delicious. I'll be back!