So I have been away…too long from
scripting my thoughts. My duties as First Sergeant have had me busy, but much
has happened since my last post. I enjoyed many miles of riding on the chopper.
I joined up with the Sons of Mosby Motorcycle Association (NOT AN MC!!!) which
is a groups of Rangers past and present that ride for the sake of camaraderie
and brotherhood that is often yearned for upon departure from the community. I
also have gotten my mileage back…sort of. Funny thing about what has actually
has an influence on it more than anything has to do with something else I was
secretly missing….more on that in a bit. I ran the Soldier Half Marathon with
my good friend Doc Susan Fondy, and prior to that had made friends with Laura
Allen who started to get me back on track asking ME for advice…lol. Funny…then...my
next business trip.
Funny thing is that it is hard to explain to the ones you love how, or even why you would miss combat. RangerUp had a good piece on it and the basic summation of it is that you never feel so alive as when you are in combat. Let me tell you there is absolute truth in that. That environment also adds to the excitement when it comes to getting in touch with past passions as well. Running has risks, naturally it carries a level of risk that makes it exciting. After a debilitating injury it is difficult to get reinvigorated about running. Yet there is some sort of magic that occurs when you mix the natural risk, which truly is pale in with the risks of a hazardous duty area. For me, running re-gained its excitement…and left me wondering…what the hell is wrong with me? My miles are up…near marathon peak mileage, AND, I caught myself looking at marathons today. I have not forgotten my goals, and I feel so alive again to see that they are back in reach. Maybe this rekindling is because of another friend Jenny, who has had so many struggles and yet just overcame a few more. She has kick cancer in the nuts…twice…running 100 mile weeks through therapy and even ran 214 miles the week of the anniversary of finding out she had cancer the first time. When things get bad I think of Jenny, when I think of
Jenny I think of D.H. Lawrence’s Self-Pity:
I never saw a wild thing
sorry for itself.
A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough
without ever having felt sorry for itself.
Now for a small announcement. I will
be redacting my earlier post with all my race reports and posting them here again.
RWOL is trying to get themselves right and finally moving away from PLUCK for
their forums. Because of this all old threads will be lost. Meaning I had to
search to find them and save them. Hopefully my OCD will not get the better of
me on this one….
