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.