Day at the Office

Day at the Office
All Terrain Vehicle
I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus. - Phillppians 3:14

Monday, January 23, 2012

What Did I Do Before....

What did I do before we had kids…I honestly don’t remember….I really don’t…and I don’t think I want to remember…because that would be a dull life…a really dull life…

Let’s review…on December 19, my mom came to help out with the impending baby only to fall in my foyer and had to have a rod and pin put in her hip on December 20. On December 22, my wife gave birth to our fourth kid…Kyle Ryan.

So….over the last month….we have been making it happen….and by that I mean, getting kids to their activities, making sure homework was done….and all along the way me making sure I get to work on time…and Quatro gets fed…every 3 hours or so…day and night.

On the good nights Kyle is sleeping 7 straight hours….

We have had so many gracious people bring food by…and our dear friend Gillian has watch Kyle from time to time so Bren can get some things done. In times like these you really find out who your true friends are…and Team Elliott is blessed in that area.

My mom flew back to Lubbock after 2 weeks of Rehab here in North Texas…she is doing exceptionally and plans on a return trip within a month.

So….Luke has crossed over to Boy Scouts and went on his first weekend outing sans dad…by spending the weekend on the Aircraft carrier, USS Lexington….very cool. Baseball kicks up in about a month for him at which time he will be in overdrive.

Macy and Hope are both in Girl Scouts…and Hope will play Soccer this spring….Macy Softball…

Kyle will only observe at this time.

...and OH!...I almost forgot...we have 4 JAnuary birthdays within 13 days.

I will relinquish my Cubmaster duties in February….

And Training…the all important fitness realm….I got a trainer for Christmas…that lets me ride my bike indoors. It is amazing that how it feels exactly like I am riding on an open flat road. Despite some sleep deprivation, I have not missed a work out…although I did shift a few of them to the evening. It seems as though I am back to a regular 5:30AM workout schedule…my cardio has seemed to improve. I ride a minimum of 2 hours on Saturdays….and try to keep an average heart rate at 165 bpm. I know come spring I want to be the one causing the sufferfest….and not the sufferee….Next event will be March 24…as 100K with hills in East Texas….stay tuned…and press on!

?????I really do not know what I did with myself before kids….WOW….

Thursday, December 29, 2011

It was the Week before Christmas...and all Through the Hospital...

The lights…the season…the excitement…and with three kids, Luke (10), Macy (8) and Hope (5)….the anticipation of Christmas held new meaning…TEAM ELLIOTT was expecting a new baby. We didn’t know if it’s a boy or girl…we never found beforehand with any of our kids….and so the excitement kept building. The baby was due December 27. On top of all the excitement of the Holiday Season…Gram (my mom) was coming to stay for a while…she would celebrate Christmas with us…and then help with the impending baby. Bren and I had everything in order…everything was planned out as much as we could….all the gifts…Santa Coming….Our traditional Christmas Eve dinner with our next door neighbors. Everything was set…ready to go….the Nursery…everything.

On Monday, Dec, 19, my sweet mother arrives at our house….safely making the journey from Levelland Texas…6 hours away. The kids were excited…Bren was happy to have the Holiday Help….all was right with the world as the December chill and rain was warmed by our Christmas Spirit in the Elliott Household. I had left to run some errands….at about 5:30 pm…when I get a call from Bren….”DAVE HURRY….YOUR MOM AS FALLEN AND IS HURT BAD!” Seven minutes later I was home…the rain outside had made our marble tile in our foyer extremely slippery…and Mom had gone out to get some things form the car….and slipped….fallen…she was screaming out in pain…911 had been called and even though the fire station is literally a ¼ mile from out house…it seemed like an eternity as I stood outside in the rain….making sure they knew which house as the Dusk of a December evening suddenly engulfed me.

Minutes later, I had seven paramedics in the foyer of my house…mobilizing as Mom was in horrible pain…they loaded her up with Morphine….so much so that by the time she reached the hospital, her memory of what happen was erased. X Rays showed a compound fracture…a clean break…just below the ball joint of the hip. The Orthopedic surgeon stated that due to her age…an internal medicine Doc would check out her health...to see if she was good to go for surgery….a rod and pin would have to splice the parts back together….”We will operate tomorrow evening….” And so for that night she was to be in traction…and heavily medicated for the pain.

I have had long nights in my life…I have run all night long….I have stayed up all night on patrol in the Marine Corps…I have laid in mud puddles all night….shivering as the wet clothes clung to my frozen body….I have had some really miserable nights…but none more than the night of December 19 as I reclined in the chair that sat in the corner of that hospital room. As Mom went in and out of consciousness…screaming in pain…as the muscles would spasm…trying to hold the broken parts in place…the nerve endings sending excruciating signals to the brain that something was drastically wrong. I would shuffle to the nurses’ station…asking if they could do anything for the pain.

The sun also rises…but now with questions…We went from having an extra set of hands to help…to now being a caretaker…and Bren and I formed up TEAM ELLIOTT…prayed…and confirmed that we would press on. No member of our tribe is trivial…even Hope steps up when needed…helping with chores…with things that need to be done…and my wife is a pillar….a strong women…and the burden on my shoulders as a son…a husband…and father heavy…but not something to make me crumble…as I lived moment to moment. Bren had an appointment on Wednesday... then we would decided if inducement of the 6th Team Member would be placed on the roster.

The surgery of mom went well…repaired…and plans were set in motion to start the rehab. First in the hospital for 3 days….and then moved into a really good Rehab Hosptial.



Dr. Angela Angel had delivered the previous three of our tribe…her and Bren had actually grown close as friends…and she was bound and determine to deliver quatro. Wednesday’s appointment came and went with plans for a induction for the next day…December 22.

So just three days after mom had fallen…I was driving Bren to the Labor and Delivery. Keep in mind….a different hospital than where my mom was…45 minutes apart. My wife will tell you God created an epidural for a reason. Being the fourth kid…they only had to wave that pitocin under her nose to start labor contractions…and after only 3 pushes…we had a 7lb 15oz baby boy…Kyle Ryan Elliott…welcome. (Kyle from where the Aggies play football…”Kyle Field”…and Ryan for Nolan Ryan) Dr. Angel has a special place in our hearts…she and I will verbally spar…as she has a smartellec side to her…and she loves my wife…as they really are two peas in a pod…My mother in law had brought the other three of our tribe to meet Kyle….and Dr. Angel returns…to see them…to make sure all was good with Bren…

That evening I return to Mom’s hospital room….recovery was going a bit rough as she was nauseous…probably from all the pain medicine…I return home later that evening…with my three oldest…as Bren and Kyle were still in the hospital. The kids had gone to bed…and I sit there…exhausted…knowing that Ultra training had held me together physically over the last few days…but emotionally…I was done….I had gone from the lows to the highs…and back to the lows. I was trying to be a son…husband…father…and now…I would sleep…10 straight hours.

Let me close with these thoughts. Bren and I are surrounded by the best neighbors and friends. From people that would go sit with my mom in the hospital because I had to be elsewhere…people that didn’t know her. We have friends offering to watch our kids…we have people offering to fix meals….and even though they were also in the midst of their Holiday season too. I have learned some things. Sometimes…even though I don’t like to…I have to accept people that are willing to help…and during those times…God puts me in a position to have to accept it. I also know that when I am weak, He is strong! I know that TEAM ELLIOTT is one formable tribe…and when band together we all have our roles…even Hope…and eventually Kyle…for that is how we roll.



Next Christmas, I hope is bit calmer…in fact…I kinda hope it’s boring. I also hope you had a great Christmas…I pray that you are as blessed as we are.

And Kyle…welcome to TEAM ELLIOTT…this is one wild and crazy clan…so hold on tight to this white knuckled ride…for you will have one heck of a good time with this tribe…I PROMISE!

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Weathering the Seasons of Life...

Endurance…the time when pressing on is a test of one’s will…it requires mental toughness….sometimes pure stubbornness…and most of all….desire. Through the seasons of life there are times when the fall turns to the brutal winds of winter and the day to day grind becomes an endurance event. I began running December 2008….and through those years I have completed numerous ultramarathons. In fact, I went from the couch to my first 50 mile trail ultra marathon in 14 months. One big training cycle…from race to race…from ultra to 100 mile bike ride…marathons with 45 lb backpacks…5:00 AM workouts…all night runs.

On Friday night my wife asked, “Aren’t you excited to race tomorrow?” I look over and calmly replied, “No.” I didn’t even pack my race bag till the morning of the Rockledge Rumble 50K race. My meticulous nature of checking and rechecking was absent…I didn’t even charge my Garmin 405…and when I went to bed, I set my alarm and thought…”The only reason I am running the Rumble tomorrow was the commitment I made to do it.” Even though the Saturday race day was absolutely perfect fall weather, my heart and soul was weathering the frigid chill of a Blue Northerner.

An out and back 22 miler … I come into the aid station cooked. My body felt fine…at least like it would after 22 miles on a trail…my desire…gone…completely…I didn’t want to be out there….I didn’t want to be racing….and I sure as hell didn’t want to go back out for another 10 miles. My friend, Buddy Teaster, looked at me and said…you look fine…and I said…I am…but I don’t care. Buddy responds, “I don’t have anything on the aid station table to fix that…you have to want it…and you definitely do not have anything to prove.” Five minutes later I was in my 4 Runner and on my way home. I am not proud of that…but I simply didn’t care. .. that, my friend, is a dangerous place to be. Only 2 months previously had I ridden my best century on the hottest race day of record for the 30 year old Hotter N Hell bicycle ride. The “highs” of that accomplishment were absent to only be replaced by the doldrums of life.

The abyss of apathy indicates a time to step away for a time from the endurance realm….not permanently….but for now. I have something planned for April…a weeklong event that I will detail later…but for now…I don’t have an ultra planned for a year. That is on purpose. Fitness is still a priority…just not the 6 hours runs…the back to back long days….the 3:00 AM wake up calls.

Wide is the path that leads to destruction…but the rocky, narrow trail is where life is lived on the edge…and when the sun begins the decent over the horizon….and darkness engulfs you….you press on…a paradox...running the very narrow path of ultramarathons was placing me on a 6 lane expressway …Stepping away from running races that sometimes take you 10 plus hours…to reignite the burning fires of enjoying life again…to reevaluate my purpose and goals. Challenges in life buffet you…and God uses these incidences as heavenly sandpaper to smooth out the rough edges. This year has not been short of a little 60 grit…a refining of who I am as a person…to my family….to my friends. Bren, my wife, has been more supportive than I could have ever asked…and I watched her closely when I responded to her inquiry about me being excited to race on that November Saturday. Her eyes showed the grave concern of a coach whose team was in trouble. A week ago I went over my plans with her for what I intended to do on the endurance front…and she responds, “Any way I can help, let me know.” And that is how we roll. 2011’s refining fire has not been pleasant…but the dross is being removed. Bren and I have seen growth in our family…being pushed out of our comfort zone tends to do that. The night is long…and winter longer….but dawn is nigh….the the spring of life will renew…for these times are not near as sweet until compared to the depths of the wintery night….and so we press on.

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Penn State...and Protecting Your Kid from Predators

I have a very simple question. Why is it that only after 2 weeks of game 7 of the World Series, did we hear Texas Ranger manager, Ron Washington’s pregame speech; when it took 12 FREAKING years to learn what went on at Penn State????

That’s right…it took less than 14 days to have the sacred boundary of what is between a manager and his team encroached. I listened to all 7 plus minutes of the recording. Sure…there is some foul language…but Ron’s speech loosened the team up, motivated them and even made me laugh….but there was nothing in there that broke the law. Ron did talk about that if Carp, the MF’er, threw the ball across the plate that they were to knock the s%@! out of it. I was upset when I heard that Wash’s pregame speech was leaked to the public…you see I still think that what is said in the board room, the clubhouse…locker room…squad bay of a Marine Corps Unit should stay there.

Ok…most of the time what happens there should stay there…unless the law is broken or if there is the most abhorred acts of sexual deviance to a minor that have occurred. I have read the entire indictment passed down from the Grand Jury on the Penn State and the Sandusky case. Reading that alone was enough to turn one’s stomach….but you do not even have to read between the lines of 40 accounts from 8 victims to wonder why anyone would allow a monster like Sandusky go free. It is unforgivable.

A second question to follow the first question is “How did so many people stay quiet on the matter?” Oh…people knew.

Let’s start from the beginning. Jerry Sandusky coached for Penn State for 32 years and was Defensive Coordinator for 23 of those years. In 1977, started a foundation called “The Second Mile” that served as a foster home for troubled boys and evolved to help children that came from dysfunctional and troubled homes. Victim 7, for the Grand Jury Indictment, gives details of deviant sexual behavior from Sandusky directed to him….behavior occurring in the mid 1990’s. The accounts from the 8 victims, all between the ages of 8 to 11, go on…in detail…about being forced to take showers with Sandusky…some are less intrusive…some accounts are of sodomizing rape…all sickening.

In March 1, 2002, a graduate assistant, Mike McQueary who was 28 years old then, entered a locker room and witnessed an act so heinous between Victim 2 and Sandusky, that he ran out of the room and called his dad. McQueary stated that he was in shock…distraught….and his dad told him to promptly report what he saw to Head Coach Joe Paterno. This was followed by meetings with Tim Curley, Penn State Athletic Director and Senior Vice President for Finance and Business Gary Shultz. The result? Curley, a couple of weeks later informed McQueary that Sandusky’s keys to the locker room were taken away and the incident reported to the The Second Mile. The incident was not reported to the police or child protective services, in what the Grand Jury termed a contravention of Pennsylvania law. Curley testified that the conduct was merely horseplay. Ok…my second home growing up was in a locker room. I know what horseplay is…and never at one time did I feel like I needed to call my dad because I was so distraught by “horseplay.” The grand jury didn’t buy it either. This just showed the tip of the ice berg of cover up…statements show that Sandusky was paid nearly $500,000 over 8 years by The Second Mile…over 10 years after the reports to officials surfaced of his sexual abuse of 10 year old boys.

In 1998, the year after Sandusky was named NCAA Assistant Football coach of the year, he was asked to step down. He retired…not to be picked up again by any other college. Penn State still allowed Sandusky use of facilities. This was apparently after allegations of taking showers with underage boys in the locker room facilities….he even admitted to it with the young boy’s mom via a wire tap.

The accounts go on and begin to read like a script of an episode of SVU – Law and Order….and the questions abound.

Why didn’t the 28 year graduate stop the sodomizing? Why weren’t the police called? Why didn’t any other colleges in the nation want to hire Sandusky in his coaching prime upon retirement and being named Assistant coach of the year? Why didn’t Paterno do more…or for that matter the AD…the President? Is climbing the food chain of college coaching more important than stopping the rape of a 10 year old boy? Is the money a top tier football program generates worth more…so they sweep scathing allegations under the rug and continue to allow the perpetrator access to the Penn State Facilities?

All of the above questions are rhetorical of course.

Although statistics are difficult to obtain in regards to child sexual abuse, it is thought that 1 in 6 boys and girls are abused sexually. The average age for the first abuse is just under 10 years old and Abuse typically occurs within a long-term, on-going relationship between the offender and victim, escalates over time and lasts an average of four years. 93% of juvenile sexual assault victims know their attacker, 34.2% of attackers were family members and 58.7% were acquaintances and only 7% of the perpetrators were strangers to the victim. The affects are long term for the victim…

The experience of sexual abuse for a child distorts her or his self-concept, orientation to the world and affective capabilities.

High rates of depression, anxiety, substance abuse, dissociative disorders, interpersonal dysfunction, sexual problems and suicidal ideation have all been identified to varying degrees among men and women who survive child sexual abuse.
Child sexual assault victims are 4.7 times more likely to be the subsequent victim of a sex crime.

So the question is, as parents, what we can do to prevent our own children of becoming victims of sexual abuse. As stated previously, most offenders are NOT strangers to the child.

At a very young age....like 3, begin talking with your kids about not letting anyone touch them where their bathing suits covered…even if you knew that person. Our pediatrician always reinforced this concept with each clinic visit. One must understand that the offender begins to manipulate the child and typically preys on a child with insecurities and a derivative of a dysfunctional environment. This is not always the case… but the perpetrator will generally not go after a kid who has an air of confidence, whose parents are involved in their life. Let me restate…THIS IS NOT ALWAYS THE CASE…but by raising a confident kid lessens the probability of him or her being a potential target of a child molester as he will prey on a child that is easy to manipulate. We have taught our kids to run and tell someone if anyone tries to touch them…or ask them to undress. The foundation of our training is to instill in your child a since of security, well being…that they are confident in who they are…and by all means…stay active in your kids life….begin to look for personality changes and withdrawal from life of a preadolescent child.

One of my closest friends was brutally sexually molested when he was 7 years old. He is now 46 years old and over the last few years began the healing process of the abuse. The effects ran deep…and the denial even deeper. Runks Runkles is now open about what has happened. He has a ministry speaking to youth across America about his testimony. I talked to Runks…as he is known by…about the Penn State Mess. He responded, ” I'd like to have 5 minutes with Sandusky…bat in hand….as much as the next guy but more than that I want time with the victims…I know what they are going through and I want them to know the hope, peace, and freedom from the hell of sexual abuse that I have found.”

You can visit Runks’ site at: Here

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

BASEBALL...and LIFE...



It was the first trip to Arlington Stadium for me. I was six years old….my first Big League Game…the Texas Rangers against the New York Yankees. I sat there and watched Reggie Jackson for the Yankees take two pitches yard. The Rangers lost that game…but it was still magical…I was watching Major League Baseball. Growing up in small town West Texas, making it to a major league game was rare. Something to be cherished….something that only occurred every couple of years or so.

Hollywood has produced some of the best Baseball Movies…one of my favorites is Sandlot…about a bunch of boys living a summer on a sandlot baseball field and occasionally losing balls to a backyard with a big dog….guardian of all lost baseballs hit for a home run. I love that movie…not so much for the plot…although very good…no…I love that movie because that was how we lived. Every summer the Cherry Street posse of Teddy, Todd, Paxton, Jimmy, Jude, Me…and my kid brother Sam…played ball. In Teddy’s back yard…it was the biggest on the street. The summer sun would beat down…on a dusty and dry ground….it was a far cry from a perfect manicured diamond…the bases could not be evenly spaced due to oblique backyard geometry. Occasionally there would be disagreements…usually settled with the next pitch being a fastball thrown up and in...and lost balls….well we lost a bunch of them…the adjacent yard had a big German Sheppard named SHEP…and he always played finders keepers with anything knocked over the fence. Life when you are preteen in Levelland…at least on Cherry Street… was marked by sports seasons…and summer was sanctioned as BASEBALL season.

I liked all the sports…and played whatever was offered during the time…but baseball was held sacred. We all traded and collected baseball cards with each other. Jude would memorize the stats…and tell you who was batting 0.348 in June for the Royals. I remember when I had gotten Thurman Munson’s card…and I remember the day he was killed in a plane crash…he caught for the Yankees….and I caught for the Yankees…that would be the Levelland Little League Yankees.

Although I would play for the Reds, or the Astros…Yankees and the Giants…I would always keep up with the Texas Rangers…they were my favorite…and most summers there was not a whole lot to cheer for…they were usually out of Pennant contention by late July. One summer, I remember they were only 2 games out of first place to the Toronto Blue Jays and I talked my dad into shifting our vacation a couple of days so that we could watch the Rangers play the Jays…..soon after that my beloved Rangers began to drift where we were used to seeing them finish…at the back of the pack.

As life moved on…I continued to play ball…all the way through high school. Somewhere along the way the grave realization of playing in the big leagues wouldn’t be….and by the time I had graduated, I was more astute of keeping the pitch counts and determining how the hurler was pitching the batters than me being able to hit a change-up following a heater on the inside corner. But the love of Baseball never wavered.

In 1992 I was living in Dallas and working for a company as an intern. I scheduled my summer around when Nolan Ryan would pitch for the Rangers…and occasionally would buy a ticket on his scheduled day praying that the aging Ryan Express wouldn’t go onto the DL. Yep…I get to tell my kids that I saw Nolan pitch for the Rangers. They get a kick out of that when they see Nolan sitting with his wife Ruth during the televised Ranger Games. The day after Bren and I were married…we went to a Ranger Game before we left on a cruise. Yep…the Texas Rangers…moved to Texas from Washington DC in 1972…and I have to say that most of those years were kinda bleak…not Chicago Cubs bleak…but still bleak…I remember going to games in the early 00’s when they were 25 games out of First Place….and thinking…will we ever be good?

Tonight…in St. Louis…the Texas Rangers will take the field….in the World Series…the Fall Classic…for the second year in the row. Last night…with no baseball on the TV…I was pacing around…Bren looks over at me and says, “You would think you are scheduled to pitch tomorrow.” I grin…and say, "that would be cool"…I am like a kid….that same kid that played with his buds on that Sandlot field on Cherry Street….that same kid, watching Reggie Jackson from the Evil Empire take two yard. Yep…I am a kid again…made possible by a bunch of guys younger than me. PLAY BALL!


RUN ON -SEMPER FIDELIS

RUN ON -SEMPER FIDELIS