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I’m a Sociology major, so can somebody check my arithmetic here?
$50 x 1000 Troopers = ?
Fifty. Thousand. Dollars.
We can so do this.
Many of you have already surpassed the $50 mark, and I salute you. You have already earned your 24 Hour Brigade unit patch!
1000 Troopers. $50 each.
Sponsor my 24 hours of effort HERE.
I’m going running. 117 miles planned for this week.
Never quit.
Thanks to all of you who are mentioning the 24 Hour Brigade on your personal blogs!
How about a little Quid Quo Pro here in the Brigade? Promote us in your corner of cyberspace, and I’ll mention you in mine.
Yesterday when I got to the track for my first of two 10-mile runs for the day, one other person was there. He called out to me, “Are you here for Sprint?” That is, the under-175 lb. “Sprint” football team.
No, I replied. I’m just here to run.
And then for the next 10 miles I thought about why I was really out there there running circles on the track.
Finish this sentence: I am going to run for 24 hours…
To raise funds and awareness for the Wounded Warrior Project…
To find out if I can…
To find out if I can’t…
To earn tomorrow’s breakfast…
For my friend Tom Martin. I’ve run many a mile for Tom in the past year…
Because I care for Soldiers, and this is the best way I can think of to let them know that…
Bid me run and I will strive with things impossible.
The past few nights I’ve come from my runs complaining that my chocolate milk (forget “energy drinks” or “replacement fuel”… Chocolate milk is where it’s at!) had frozen solid in my carry bottle before I was done running.
My roommate’s response, said in a tone similar to “You know you’re a Redneck when…,” was: You know it might be too cold to be outside when your milk freezes solid before you finish running!
I don’t disagree.
But suffering in the cold isn’t anything that tough people haven’t done before.
I’ve been mocked, sneered at, and called corny for what I’m about to tell you, but I’ll swear upon a stack of Bibles that it’s true, and I dare you to tell me that the chills I get up and down my spine aren’t real.
Whenever I’m running in the cold, when my fingers have gone numb and my face is chapped and burned from the wind, I think about the soldiers of the Continental Army who survived the winter of 1777 at Valley Forge. I’m serious. A countless number of those soldiers survived the winter without shoes. I can always make it another hour with cold fingers.
In that vein, whenever I think I’m growing weary and that the distance may be too much I think about the soldiers who experienced the Bataan Death March during World War II. In organized events, I will always know where the finish line is. Be it 24 hours, 100 miles – 135 miles, someday, hopefully! – I will always know exactly how many steps I have to take before I can collapse into a chair, get a massage, and gorge on calories. The soldiers at Bataan, they just had to keep moving. And, rest their weary souls, some of them never made it to the finish line. And so I run toward my finish lines for those who never made it to theirs.
A third source of motivation I have, whenever my feet grow sore from the pounding or with blisters and chafing, is to think about soldiers who are at the very same second patrolling in the mountains of Afghanistan. They don’t get to slow down or quit just because their feet hurt. Nor do I. And because I don’t quit now, in a controlled event, I gain confidence that I will have the intestinal fortitude to never quit on game day, when it really counts – in the middle of a real world, boots-on-the-ground mission.
Never quit. Never, never quit.
This semester I am a part of my company’s Sandhurst squad.
F2, “The Zoo” = Zoo-hurst!
“Royal Military Academy Sandhurst” is the name of the West Point of the United Kingdom. Sandhurst, as we know it, is a military skills competition held annually at West Point. It began as a competition between the Brits and Americans, and has since grown to include other international participants such as the Canucks, Aussies, Chileans, and Afghanis. Domestically, other teams come from Texas A&M, Virginia Tech, the Air Force and Naval Academies, The Ohio State University, and Brigham Young University, among others…
The heart of the competition today is between the 32 cadet companies. Fierce rivalries spawn during Sandhurst season. Friendships dissipate for a few months. Sandhurst participants become heroes within their own company areas.
The glory is not unaccompanied by hard work. Countless early morning (0520) practices… CrossFit sessions from Hell… B-Weekends spent training… You either bleed Sandhurst or you don’t. You don’t get to be a Sand-hooah for free.
This year I am doing Sandhurst for the first time in my cadet career. In my first 2 years at the Academy, the Nordic Ski team was my priority during the January-March months. Having left the Nordic team in pursuit of my ultrarunning goals, I also have the freedom in my schedule to train with the Sandhurst team. I love it already. Sandhurst is something that I had read about – “Absolutely American,” “Duty First” – before coming to West Point, and it’s something I have always wanted do. And now I am.
Today we had what our squad leader, Dave Dean, called a Saturday “Extended Period of Pain.” And that it was.
We did a movement of 11 miles, and our total time of activity was 3:30. (In single digit weather – with a below-zero windchill, mind you…) That is both farther and longer than either the length or duration of the competition itself will be. We stopped twice to do CrossFit routines… Twice to practice MedEvac techniques – buddy carry and litter carry… Once to do hill repeats… We each did 110+ pull-ups, 120+ dips, 175+ air squats and countless push-ups, sit-ups and Burpees…
My brutal roommate, Jon Morgan, cresting MP Trail.
Me (right) with JJ
Zoohurst comin' after you!
Top: Me, Dan, Eric, Vince, Kirby, Mike; Bottom: Jake, Jake, Dave, Scott, JJ
To celebrate our collective brutality, we went out to Prima’s Pizza for dinner. Spike meal – gotta love it.
Last year the team was 1st in the Regiment, 4th in the Corps, and 8th overall. We’re definitely looking to replicate and improve! Look out, Corps. F2 is comin’ after you!
Oh yeah, and happy birthday to me. 21.
There is nothing I rather would have done on my 21st birthday, I assure you.
Never quit.
The other day I was catching up with a friend who spent last semester studying abroad in France. He was asking my about the 101 mile run I did over Christmas Leave. Bless his heart, he was trying to find the “secret” – how does one fathom, much less complete, one hundred miles?
And this is what I articulated – this is what I’ve learned about myself:
Whatever I put in my head at the start line is what we’re going to go accomplish. At Sapper school, at the beginning of the 10-day patrolling phase – 10 days with 1 hour of sleep and 1 MRE every 24 hours – I told myself that I could do it and that I would finish…and I did. At the beginning of the 101 mile run, despite freezing temperatures and 35+ mph winds, I told myself that the day would be over 100 miles later…and we went out and got our 100 – plus one! On the converse, it works for shorter distances, too. Right before coming back to school, I ran a semi-organized, non-race 50k with some buddies. There were no intentions to “race,” no reason to push oneself. At the beginning of that event I told myself that I was going to run 50 kilometers. And I tell you what – 31.1 miles later I didn’t have the desire to run another single step!
The mind. It’s a powerful thing.
Never quit.
“We will never remember all the tests that we didn’t pass, but we will never forget the friends we were with on the nights that we didn’t study for them.”
That was me with one of my very best good friends, Alan Fischer, tonight.
Alan and I go way back. We were once upon a time novice members of the Army Nordic Ski team. That’s how we met and got to know each other – through miles of trials…and the Trials of the Miles.
Alan – from Florida – and I – Oklahoma – had a great time with the ski team, but both left it when we found passion and success in other endeavors – cycling for him and ultrarunning for me.
Alan is a Tier-One cyclist – don’t let him tell you otherwise. For the late start that he got in the sport, he has progressed remarkably to be at the skill and fitness level that he races at today. Alan and the Army cycling team should be collegiate cycling national champions come May of this year.
Last semester, Alan was on “exchange” to the United States Air Force Academy. (Every year we send 12 West Pointers to USAFA – and Navy, too, for that matter – and they send 12 Zoomies to our place for a semester. Only top cadets are able to participate in a semester exchange, so that alone should tell you something about the merits of Alan Fischer.) We certainly hadn’t fallen out of contact throughout last semester, but we also haven’t really had a chance to catch up since he’s been back.
Tonight we got to catch up. A lot of personal growth and development has occurred in the both of us in the past 5 months. But one thing remains the same: we like pain; we like to hurt. We do what we do – him on the bike, me on two feet – just to see if we can. Alan and I have a phrase: “Here’s to good friends – and bad ideas! [fist bump]”
In fact, our grand catch-up conversation came after a meeting about try-outs for the Sapper Leader Course. Having already tabbed the course, I was there as Sapper cadre. Alan was there as a future Sapper – a “Sapling,” if you will. Endurance events and military schools aren’t all that different. Neither are for the faint of heart; both are for the bold and the brave.
Alan authored one of my favorite quotes of all time. He says this is a sentence he kept repeating to himself after he took a wrong turn that turned a long run into a really long run. “I didn’t come this far just to quit. I came this far just to not quit!”
Alan Fischer – remember that name. You’ll be seeing it on the television screen one of these days – next to a little American flag icon and a number that is less than or equal to “10.” And probably with the words “Tour de France” or “World Championships” at the top of the screen…
With Alan, after running 20 miles on my 20th birthday
With Alan, after our first Nordic Ski race EVER!
Never Quit.
All day long I knew that this afternoon’s runs (2 of them - 8 miles and 12 miles) were going to hurt. And they did, make no mistake. But when it came time to put boots on the ground, I did, and it felt right, and everything just, you know, clicked. God, I love running.
When I was flagging on my first run, at about mile 7 of 8, I was right next to the West Point cemetery – right next to where my friend Tom Martin lies. I stopped in, paused for a prayer, patted his tombstone, and carried on. Tom and his platoon walked nearly 1500 miles – in full kit – in their year in Iraq. I can certainly always run at least one more.
The only easy day was yesterday. That’s what Goggins says.
NQ.
And so it begins!
First, foremost, and most importantly this day was the start of my newest ultra training cycle – the prize being the 24 Hour Brigade mission, of course! Also, today was the beginning of the Brigade Open “Run a Marathon” competition. I will daresay that my 27 miles have put me in the lead.
For this training cycle I have identified 4 possible training blocks in the day: AM, Mid-PM, PM, and Dark. Today I ran 14 miles during the Mid-PM block, did a PM block CrossFit workout (including a build-up to a 1-rep max deadliff – 275 lbs. in case you were wondering…) and then ran 13 more miles during Dark.
The track is still snowed over from the Mother Nature’s dump on Saturday. First I had to punch holes through the ice crust. That was actually fun. I turned my music off and listened to my feet go CRUNCH! CRUNCH! for a few miles. Then I began to beat a path into the snow. After about 10 miles I was running on terrain very similar to a rough – albeit pancake flat – trail. It was soft on the joints, but harder for the muscles. Hard is good. It was fun.
When I got back in from my second run, one of the Plebes saw me and asked, “How far did you run today, Sergeant?”
“27 miles,” I was proud to report.
“You just couldn’t stop at 26, huh, Sergeant? You had to get that extra mile.”
That’s exactly right, Private Cleary. I ran the first 26 just so that I could run the 27th.
Never Quit.
Once you’ve enlisted at a Trooper in the 24 Hour Brigade mission, it’s time to begin seeking pledges from Sponsors.
Ultimately, your method for seeking pledges and collecting the donations is METT-TC dependent. That is to say, it’s up to you. Below are some guidelines that you may choose to follow.
A sponsorship can be anything from your kid brother or sister pledging a nickel for every lap you complete to your family dentist/doctor/lawyer pledging $100+ for every mile you finish. Or perhaps a sponsor simply wants to pledge $50 for your efforts.
Other pools of possible Sponsors could include: friends, relatives, co-workers, colleagues, teachers, classmates, Facebook/MySpace friends…
When someone commits to sponsor you, you should record their pledge in a notebook or other written/typed ledger.
If the Sponsor has pledged an amount per mile that you complete, you will need to wait until after the mission is complete in order to collect their donation. When the mission is complete, direct the Sponsor to the 24 Hour Brigade donation page HERE.
If the Sponsor pledges a flat amount for your efforts, you may immediately direct them to the 24 Hour Brigade donation page HERE.
Remember that personal sacrifice is the heart of the mission. In addition to training, collecting pledges, and recruiting more Troopers, it is suggested that you as an individual Trooper donate $1 for every mile that you plan to complete upon the track.
If you know of an individual or business who would be willing and able to become a Field-Grade or Flag Officer Sponsor of the mission, contact me directly (david.swanson@usma.edu) or direct the potential Officer to the SPONSOR page.
Questions? Send ‘em.
Never Quit.
