Our brass balled leader is out again.

Out? Is that why he ain't shown' up on the memberlist or YTD list? At. All?

Wrong thread. Nice run you put out there Hippie man. Too bad you let Legros rob you of your title, but #2 is awesome Where were you at the awards ceremony? Good looking beard BTW

Myrtle Beach marathon in 13 days. I'll be easing off the throttle until then.

Good luck!

The insecurity I feel with regard to my lack of running ability causes encouraging comments by fast people like you to be received as somewhat condescending. I often feel that I am the monkey the Pace Bunny mentioned, always trying to grasp the reflection of the moon. I wonder if you and I really have anything in common. I have struggled with running my entire life. When little slow-poke Jennifer Jordan tagged me on the play ground and I could not catch her, I began to wonder what was wrong with me. I have known since my army days that my genes were not made for speed. I had to spend most of my available time running just so I could make the minimum requirement on the PT test. I watched other soldiers light cigarettes, set them on the ground, and return after the 2 mile run and finish smoking them. I longed to be smoker, but I knew that it would only make my dismal running worse. I was the youngest tank gunner in my squadron. 1995 was the first time I shot top gun, and they gave me corporal stripes. I was made eligible for promotion to sergeant and was sent to PLDC so that I could get my sergeant stripes. To get into PLDC you must pass a PT test. I had just spent 45 days in the field with no opportunity to run. My genes suck so bad that even a week off makes it feel like I am back at square one. I had 16:30 to finish the two miles. I failed the test. Standing on the sergeant major’s carpet, it looked like my career was over. There is little else as embarrassing for a soldier or unit as to fail the entrance PT test to a school. Lucky for me the main unit was in Bosnia, and I was given another chance six months later. However, this time was also after several weeks in the field. (Most of a cavalryman’s time is spent deployed) The week before my second try I was given a preliminary test to see if once again I would bring shame upon myself and the unit. Not surprisingly, having no training in over a month, I failed by 45 seconds. The platoon sergeant looked me squarely in the eye and said, “This is it, you have to go anyway. If we try to put it off they will pull your promotion status and your corporal stripes. You won’t get another chance in this unit and they will take your gunner position from you.” He was right, and I stood there as he lied to the sergeant major, telling him that I was ready to go. Six days later I found myself on the three hour trip to Grafenwoehr, Germany, and I was less than enthusiastic about my chances. It was a cold, rainy October morning like most other mornings in Germany. From the word go I tried to kill myself. I wanted to die rather than fail; seriously. I gave everything my pathetic body could give and when I rounded the last turn the NCO was calling out, “15:45….15:50…..” It was at that moment that I knew I had made it. Other soldiers go to that school without even thinking about the PT test. Instead they are scared of the tests and challenges that the school would hold for them for the next thirty days. Leadership, land navigation, maneuvers; failing any of these could get you sent home, but they were nothing to me. For me it was already over. I knew I had won; the other stuff was just a formality. I am glad it was raining that morning, because I had tears in my eyes. That was the sweetest taste I had ever experienced, despite the vomit. I graduated sixth in a class of 400. It would have been higher, but the PT score is figured as part of your ranking, so obviously that did not help me. I went on to become a non-commissioned officer, but running is something that always plagued me during my time in the Army. It was my only Achilles heel. When your career and your livelihood depend on running, you understand just how frustrating it is to be as slow as I am. My Army days are long over, and I have no reason to continue running. I hate running from the bottom of my soul. I’m not sure why I do it, maybe because it is the hardest thing I have ever done. I’ll never be fast enough for Boston. I will always be looked at as one of those “back of the pack people that just don’t spend enough time training” There is nothing I can do about what other people think. To hell with other people. Of course, I know you are not being condescending when you say good luck, so I thank you for your kind words. My only goal in this race is to feel strong at the finish. If I can finish with the purple demon on my shoulder, I will be happy. Even if it is over 5 hours.

SS, Just wanted to let you know I didn't mean to be condescending--but I understand the point. You spent 11 hours running last week. I spent about 7. Most regular folks would think both of us are crazy--but you're totally insane. We all run for different reasons and have different demons that chase us. I started out running because I was fast, and that still plays a role in why I run. But the reasons why I get out the door or don't get out the door change as I change. Actually seeing other people's training logs puts the hard work vs. talent debate into perspective. Seeing you out in front of me by 40 miles or so motivates my training. You are spending as much time running as the elite marathoners who run over 100 miles a week. Maybe if I put that time in I could join them. Who knows? The fact that you are doing it motivates me. I'm being motivated by a 5 hour marathoner. Strange. But true. So, good luck, brother. In the race. Against the demons. In life.

Makes you reflect on your own personal reasons for doing this, doesn't it? SS, I can understand the whole PLDC thing, too.

Yeah man, you're a bad ass. Keep on keepin' on.