These are the Times that Try Men's Souls...

August 1988 - Marine Corps Recruit Depot (aka Boot Camp) San Diego CA

In a dimly lit corner of Tun Tavern, on November 10, 1775, Uncle Sam recruited it first misguide child...and thus was born your beloved United States Marine Corps. A day later this great country will celebrate and remember the veterans of the Armed Services who fight the tireless fight of keeping the Wolf of the Door Step for over 233 years. Men far greater than I, who fought for freedom and liberty. Men like my Great Uncle Roy Andrews, who served in WWI and at age 45 reenlisted to fight in the South Pacific in WWII. (He lied about his age when he jump onto a Naval Ship.) By the way, both his sons went off to war as well, leaving Aunt Gladis to rely on the Lord Almighty for her entire family's protection.

The enemy has changed and evolved, from the British, to each other in the War between the states, to Nazis and Japanese, Communist Soviet Union, to the militant Jihadist.

Oh how the past week we were reminded that Jihad is ever present as an actual Army Major, sworn to protect U.S. Citizens from enemies both foreign and domestic, opened fire in Fort Hood killing 13 of America's finest.

Add political correctness to that enemy lists.

Maj. Nidal Malik Hasan openly became an Islamic extremist, attempting to contact Al Qaeda, and posted on websites voicing his praise to suicide bombers comparing them to Marines falling on grenades protecting their own. The Army admitted that the Scum was under investigation for months and communicated 10 to 20 times with a radical imam overseas who in the past came under scrutiny for possible links to terror groups. They say the communications began last year and continued into this year between Hasan and the imam, Anwar al-Awlaki, and that U.S. officials had been aware of them since last year. Anwar al-Awlaki hearled Hasas as a hero for such actions.

Why was he not gone?! WHY? Was it because the Army Brass was more afraid of ruffling feathers and political correctness by singling out an Army officer of the Muslim faith. Was the lack of reaction because the fear of "profiling"...because of political correctness. Have we reached such depths that we are more concerned with our careers rather that doing the right thing. What do you say to the families of the 13 deceased? My heart is heavy.

On Wednesday, we will remember those fallen soldiers. The emotions are still too raw not to.



This past weekend, about 20 minutes from my house, was a Civil War reenactment. I took my Cub Scout Den of 8 year old boys to witness history. The boys loved it, hearing the cannons going off, seeing the soldiers muster in formation, seeing the Cavalry gallop across the battlefield. For an hour the battle raged on as the troops continued to fight. The gun smoke hung around the ground, emanating an eerie feeling of death and anguish. Yes, the Civil War was a dark period of U.S. History...much like last week. As they closed the battle with the bugler playing TAPS, my mind turned to those soldiers that wore the blue and the gray uniforms. Whose service they gave as well. It is hard to imagine brother against brother and yet this country still remains.

I love this country....THANK YOU US Serviceman...for these are the times that try men's souls.

R&R and Celebrating

I once again have succumbed to delinquency in posting on this thing. Really are you interested in what has be going on in Team Elliott's lives...well if you are, God Bless Ya.

Two and half weeks ago the Palo Duro 50 miler was completed...and for those past two and half weeks I have run a total of 20 miles. Ok...I went to spin class twice too. I really didn't realize how much was taken out of the body...but I am slowly coming back, being rejuvenated. This past Saturday morning, I was up at about 0630....I had a cup of coffee, I read a bit...and when my kids got up, we hung out. I honestly don't know when was the last Saturday I did that. Now, don't think I totally mailed it in. Later that morning I did run 3 miles and then go to an hour long spin class.

A week and half ago the weekend consisted of going on the Y Princess camp out with my 6 year old daughter, Macy. I didn't have sisters and so sometimes it is a challenge for me to really relate to my girls. I try...and I am getting better. Camping with them helps this. Macy is my contemplative and somewhat shy girl. But in the past few months my wife and I have noticed that she is opening up and becoming much more social. Weekends like this is what I live for. She shines when we talk about the weekend...the marshmallow stickiness left behind on the fingertips after savoring a smore, the giggling with the other girls trying to tell ghost stories, hearing the ping of the BB hitting the can after a careful aimed shot...and even the slight embarrassment after falling of the pier into a frigid lake. There is no disappointment in not catching fish because we are outdoors with friends. Nope, running is not on the forefront. I am celebrating my daughter's achievements.

Macy

"Dad are we going to catch anything?"


Toweling off after falling in Lake

This past weekend was the Cactus Rose 50 mile/100 mile Ultramarathon trial race in Bandera Texas. Originally I was suppose to pace Dmitry but those plans had to be amended. He had dropped at the 55 mile marker last year. Oh do I know the feeling of unfinished business left on some godforsaken trail where pain and anguish is not unfamiliar. I woke up in the middle of Saturday night and said a quick prayer for all the runners but for Dmitry in particular. He would be in the lonely darkness where real demons would haunt on that Halloween night. After 31 hours of relentless forward motion, Dmity slayed those demons when Joe Prusaitis handed him his finisher's buckle.

My friend Fred Thompson would be attempting his first 100 mile finish. Some really seasoned ultrarunners described his efforts as heroic and were emotional watching Fred cross the finish line 36 hours and 22 minutes after commencing. His pacer at mile 90 was "scared" because of the poor condition Fred was in at the time. I have yet to discuss with Fred how dark the world got that Halloween night. But I have talked with friends that were there. Fred may only want to embrace those cold dark corners of his mind when time has placed a chasm between that night and a bright Spring morning. Back spasms made forward movement most painful and at times impossible. Ascending up Lucky Hill was more that what the mind and body could ask for. Falling, getting up...and falling again, but never staying down. Fred triumphed greatly. Some even wept at his victory.

Fred early in the day

Mile 85 - The looks on Char's and David's face do not show the deep concern they have at this point.

Barely moving as the Back Spasms take hold...such things happen when your on your feet for 36 hours.

Fred's is DONE!...and being aided by his wife Char.

Fred showing his Finisher's buckle...with his Pacer, Annie who spent 15 hours with Fred....and you thought you wanted to Pace ;-)

Oh I am proud of my accomplishments. I celebrate them. But these last two weeks it has been equally sweet to celebrate the great achievements of others. Hitting the empty can with a BB gun, destroying the demons that haunts the runner of past failures on a lonely Texas trail, or the great triumphs of a first 100 mile attempt that inspires my soul. Life has been grand these last two weeks...and running is looking good again too.

REDEMPTION AT THE 50 MILE MARKER

Finishing loop 2 - Mile 25

"Oh Sinnerman, where you goin' to run to... sinnerman where you goin' to run to... where you going to run to, all on that day?"

Last year, after The North Face Endurance Challenge - Virgina was canceled, I signed up to run the Palo Duro Trail Race 50 mile. It was to be my first 50 mile attempt...it was also my first DNF (did not finish). At about the 50K mark, I cashed in my chips due to an IT Band problem that had me hobbling for a couple weeks. Since that time I had completed the Grasslands 50 Miler but still had some unfinished business in the second largest canyon in America.

Getting to the race was a battle in itself. I had a upper respiratory infection 2 1/2 weeks before the race. My kids had the swine flu a week prior to the race....I had been in a training cycle basically since January. I felt under trained. I felt my Cardio lacking. The Texas heat had beaten me down and frankly, if I wasn't seeking redemption from a previous failure, I probably would not have shown up in Palo Duro. I just didn't care anymore and running wasn't fun anymore. On Friday night before the run, I honestly didn't think I had it in me to finish it.

It was to be a family affair with all of TEAM ELLIOTT traversing across Texas, but after the H1N1 virus assault, Bren and I decided that the family would stay home. My parents would come up from Levelland and crew/support me any way they could...except for pacing...;-)

In the predawn canyon hours, Saturday morning found me reflecting back nearly one year to the day. How, at the time, my only DNF from the previous Palo Duro Trail Race, felt infinitely worse than any physical pain. How at times I get frustrated at not being one of the "fast ones." I have tried to learned to put things in perspective. I had learned from my friend and Western State 100 mile finisher, Matt Crownover, to be grateful for the ability to run...to run far. I have come to realize that all aren't blessed to do such. Craig Miller is running the ING NY Marathon and raising money for Sam, an eight year old boy stricken with Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy. Chances are, unless there is a cure, Sam will never be able to run like this. Matt ended his Western States report with this, "The truth is someday you will go for you last run, but not today, today you get to run." I spent some time alone. I prayed. I tried to focus. I asked the Heavenly Father to help me maintain a spirit of gratitude. I asked for strength to finish amidst my weakness and frailties...even if it was past the 12 hour cutoff. And shortly before 7:00 AM. It was time to go.

At this point I have to give Jennifer Kimball a shout out. The night before I had check the batteries in my headlamp. Apparently the lamp switch had turned on in my bag and when I went to turn it on pre race...NOTHING. She had a extra hand held flashlight that would get me through the first 45 minutes before the twilight.

"Well, I run to the rock...please help me run to the rock...please help run to the rock...please help me Lord all on that day."

The race is broken down to run a 12.5 mile loop four times. The first loop was uneventful. When the sun peaks over the canyon, it is awe inspiring. I fall into a rhythm and began to assess my body. There was a remnant of chest congestion from the previous infection and my right hamstring was tight...but oh well....In the words of Kevin Boudroux when he passed me..."you can't worry bout that till mile 40." I responded, "your right." I finish up loop number one with my parents saying hi....how you doing? I refilled the hydration pack up at the aid station and acknowledged a guy named Joe Prusaitis...and then moved on down the trail

Waiting on the hydration pack - about to start loop2

There was good cloud cover and I was thinking, "If this holds out, and these temps stay low...oh what a good day to run in the canyon. I had kept leap frogging this guy in a yellow shirt and knew that this was to probably be an all day affair. The second Loop went as planned and my pacing chart was within a couple of minutes that I had told my parents. I had planned to wrap up loop 2 at just under five and half hours. My hydration/electrolytes and nutrition where dead on. At the end of the 25 mile marker, the cloud cover was being burned off and the low 60's were to be a thing of the past.

I leave for loop three...half way done. Laura Underwood had just filled my hydration pack and Linda Boggs mentioned to my parents that they looked normal, so how come I turned how crazy. I once again acknowledged that guy named Joe Prusaitis ...and then moved on down the trail.

"But the rock cried out I can't hide you, the rock cried out I can't hide you, the rock cried out, I ain't going to hide you...all on that day."


The first mile of the third loop I was nauseated and felt like I was going to throw up. I think it was due to me trying to cram too many calories into my body via Ensure, Potatoes, and Bananas. In 15 minutes that subsided. The sun began an all out assault as the clouds were now completely gone. The temps rose with the runners having no shade to hide them. The aid station's thermostats show the temperature encroaching the 88 degree mark. To help battle the temps I wrapped ice in a bandanna and tied it around the neck. Things began to slow down a bit. At the 31 mile marker, there was another 50 miler that seemed to be a dark place. She latched on and we began negotiating the trail and heat together. Her name was Jenny. At about this point we saw Sonia Burnett and Deborah Sexton on their last loop of the 50 K and they still had smiles on their faces. Come to find out this was Jenny's first 50 miler and for the next 6 miles we had a good conversation about running and training. Lynn Ballard's words came to mind when he said to me one time, "One Day you will be someone's Dmitry." You can read about that here. At the beginning of this loop I began feeling a couple of hot spots on the feet and even though I had a blister kit with me, I reasoned that I was short on time to stop and fix it. I would not realize how bad they were till after the race. The guy in the yellow shirt showed up again the last mile of the loop and I joked with him that he kept turning up like a bad penny. This loop was ran slower than I anticipated as we three cruised into the start/finish ready to commence the 4th and final loop.

It was at this point the race director Bill Ross admonished us about continuing. He said we have to run the last loop as fast as we ran the previous loop to finish on time. He also added that we three were in jeopardy of aid stations closing. We all nodded and said we are going to get it done. In my mind, I quickly calculated mile splits. I knew is was possible, but also knew that it would be tough on legs that had 37 miles on them. We leave as group for the farewell tour. I acknowledged that guy named Joe Prusaitis and said, "This last loop is going to be tough." He responds, "Hell yeah it is, it's why you paid your money. You just have to keep moving...don't stop...you'll make it on time." He sounded more convinced than I did as we moved on down the trail...for the last time.

"So I ran to the Devil, he was waiting, I ran to the Devil, he was waiting, I ran to the Devil all on that day."


The guy in the yellow shirt is named Kenny from San Angelo and was dealing with the affects of having prickly pear cactus thorns in the back of leg and in his back side. Somewhere on the first loop he fell in a cactus. Talk about tough. I told my kids this story and told them, "I don't want to hear any whining ;-)." Jenny had found a new energy and began to run with a mission. Kenny and I tried to hang but it came apparent this was going to be futile. Jenny had crawled through her dark place and was on a mission to meet the 12 hour deadline. She tried to hang back for us, but I told her she needs to move, I would be alright...and so Kenny and I began the herculean task of running as fast as we previously had on 3rd loop. My hot spots had turned into full blown blisters and although the legs weren't in too bad of shape, the mental aspect of running against the time line, continually attempting to calculate mile split started to weigh on me. I know I mentioned previously that just finishing regardless of the time was the goal. I have to admit, that I always wanted to be counted as an official finisher. The inclines were steeper than the previous 3 time through and the descents reminded my quads there was work to be done. Kenny kept his sense of humor...mine left somewhere at mile 44. At the Dos Locos Senoritas aid station in the back of the canyon , I found myself in a dark state of mind. I had not hit a wall yet, but this seemed to be it. Those sweet ladies encouraged us and we were off.

"So I run to the Lord...Please Help me Lord...Don't you see me praying...Don't you see me down here praying..."


I enjoy the beauty of this side of the canyon...the last 6 miles of the loop. The views are awe inspiring...the stratified red dirt. My body and mind wanted this to be over, but this canyon reminded me of my Maker and the words of Matt...."Pray to have a spirit of gratitude." At mile 44, I admit the spirit of gratitude was not in the forefront. As the miles wore on, that was transformed. By mile 47 ... I was grateful to have met Kenny whose optimism never wavered. I was grateful for this wonderful day to run. I was grateful this run was nearly over. We turned the corner at 49.5 mile marker and I knew it was finished. We had run a negative split on this final loop to finish in about 11 hours 53 minutes. We had made it. My parents were there. Bill and Wynn Ross congratulated us on finishing strong and running the 4th loop faster than the 3rd. I had been redeemed by the red dirt of the canyon. It was finished!

Done!

Long Day as the Canyon Sun Sets

It is finished! A reminder of my first redemption...also the color of red...when this sinnerman ran to the Lord all on that day...and He bowed his head and cried, "It is finished."

Running races like Palo Duro changes people. I think all 5 of my Ultras have changed me. I learn from every one of them. I have learned that the Ultra community is a bunch of really good guys. I have learned that things will always get better. I have learned that sometimes you have to just keep moving....and I learned to be grateful....for

"the truth that someday you will go for last run, but not today - today you got to run." - Matt Crownover

EPILOGUE:

Thanks to all my NTTR buddies...to Lynn Ballard-Bear 100 mile finisher this past year. To Bill and Wynn Ross who have brilliantly filled the enormous shoes of Red Spicer and all the PDTR volunteers and most importantly to my wife, Bren and kids Luke, Macy, Hope...and of course my Mom and Dad who weathered the all day event...because they would be out there till I finished.

Craig Miller is attempting to race $26,200.00 for Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy. If you would like to donate....go HERE.




Starring Mutha Blista...(not shown are her five dime size daughters between the toes.)

and finally - "SINNERMAN byNina Simone

U2...WHAT A SHOW!!!

The EDGE, Larry Boy, Adam and Bono sauntered into North Texas, sat up shop, and applied their craft. That is an enormous understatement.


The event was housed in the new Dallas Cowboy Stadium...a venue that is an event in itself. It is good that the stadium holds such stature since the product that Jerry Jones has decided to put on the field on Sundays is leaving a lot to be desired. Not So with the third major concert performing at the stadium of stadiums.


The "Death Star"...I mean the Cowboy Stadium...do you feel the gravitational pull?


I had waited for over 20 years to see U2 Perform live. I have all their CD's...even the "weak" ones. I believe that when it all said and done, U2 will be recognized as the best and most renowned band in history. Their longevity and 30 years of continued high end production will leave second place light years behind...be it the Beatles, the Stones...you name it....


So paying $50 dollars to be a fan club member, allowing me selection and purchasing of tickets 3 days before they hit general public was a small price to pay. We sat first deck, 12 rows up, in front of stage and celebrated the night with about 80,000 of my closest friends.


I could spend reams of words and descriptions breaking down the show. They would fall short. Donald has described in details the time he attended the U2 concert at the Red Rocks...when Bono breaths to life the opening phrases of "Sunday Bloody Sunday." I am sure I experienced many of those same things last night. My highlight was when the Edge, Adam and Larry lowered the instrument volume, Bono stepped away from the mic, and the first stanza of "With or without you" was sang vocally by 80,000 concert goers. The band left everything on the stage...they sang a lot of new stuff, hit many of the classics and made one realize how much volume they really have.

I hear that the sound left some to be desired in the upper decks due to the venue's inheritant acoustics. Where we sat, that was not an issue.

What a night...what a show....What a Band...I left the evening with a since of being overwhelmed ...U2?

My Beloved

The U2 Posse

OINK OINK!

Last couple of weeks have been in taper mode for the Palo Duro 50 miler. I am burned out...just let me begin with that. One day I was lamenting (bordering on whining) to my friend Patton Gleason about I am not having fun running and not feeling ready for Palo Duro. He then reminded me that after Grasslands 50, I took off about a week and then went right back into putting in some miles. He asked, how many of your "long" weekend runs have been in the single digits (9 miles or less) since the Grasslands. I responded...oh, less than five. So for the last 7 months you have had a run nearly every weekend that was 10 miles or longer...mostly longer. yep!

So this weekend, it was Luke's Renegade Y guide group's Camp out at Broken Bow Oklahoma. Beautiful country. We get there at about 5:30 PM on Friday and after the boys go to bed, I take off for a 12 mile taper run till a little after midnight. We get up the next morning and all for a nice little hike after breakfast. Luke had been having trouble with his asthma this past week and we did a breathing treatment before leaving for the hike. Coming back from the hike, he rolls down the window and tells me it is hot. It was cold out and I was not hot. Long story short, took his temp...102...came home...went to doctor....SWINE FLU. Keep the lad in your prayers as the asthma and swine flu don't mix well together.

So what does this week hold. Have to wait and see. The whole family was going to Palo Duro with me, leaving Thursday evening....don't know now. U2 is in town tomorrow and Bren and I plan on going to that. We have started a preemptive strike with the rest of the clan. Prayers requested....