My begining of beginings.

Where and how one begins to describe them self and what makes the way that they are is somewhat beyond me. I think that if you’re normal-ish, you shouldn’t like describing yourself. However, I suppose that honesty is always the best policy and I will try my best to stick with that approach. Please keep in mind that I’ve never done this before and I can’t help but have flash backs to when I was a bit younger and had a MySpace page; this is somewhat awkward for me. I will do my best to keep in short and sweet, keeping only what is important for you to know and what is applicable to my little synthetic soap box.

I am 27 years old and live in Jacksonville, North Carolina. I served just over a typical four year stint in the Marines of which I joined in December of 2003. Most were not at all surprised that I went in the Marines; dad was a Marine and so what his. However, most were shocked that I did it prior to completing my college education. And to add additional gray hairs to my closest loved ones, I joined the Infantry. When told by my recruiter that I was allowed choose any job that I wanted, I chose the Infantry. He followed through with a very cautious, “Are you sure?” My response: “Yea… what the hell else would I want to do?” So, to me, there was no choice. I wanted to be a REAL Marine. I wanted to fight. Well, I thought I did. In reality, the first time I got shot at, I pissed myself a little bit. Granted, it was a rocket propelled grenade that could have very well turned me into a puffy cloud of pink mist… but I was still scared shitless… piss-less… whatever. After only a few deliberate and very decisive engagements with the enemy, the fear was no longer a hindrance. It was more like wood for a fire that I had learned quickly how to control the burn rate of. In conjunction with greater control of my fear(s), I stopped thinking about myself and started to think more about the guys to the left and right of me, what the task at hand was, the commander’s intent, and how to finish the mission so we could get the fuck out of there. It all eventually came down to the guys I served with. These gentlemen were of the finest and most tarnished caliber of men that you could come across. Every single one was loud, vulgar, untactful, brazen, or a horrific combination of a few different traits listed. They dated strippers and beat each other up. But they were however, of the highest of moral character and it’s really difficult to describe as to why I feel this way. For instance, let’s say that one of the guys that I worked with, maybe a fellow team leader, a peer… let’s say he did something that, no-shit, saved my life. If I were to walk up to said Marine and thank him, he would probably respond with something like, “Shut the f*ck up and don’t be such a fag.”

I did fine in the Marines. Better than most and I came across tons of great challenges throughout my abrupt career. And who doesn’t love a good challenge? I sure do miss it a lot. It doesn’t help that I am still around them and that I still train them as a civilian. But I decided that it was time for me to get out. I get asked constantly from my training audience, “Dude, why did you get out?” Well, one reason that I decided to end my active service was because I made promises to certain people that mean very much to me of who will remain nameless. In order to fulfill those promises, I needed to get out. The second reason walks hand-in-hand with the first; I was turned down for the very coveted Marine Corps Enlisted Commissioning Program (MECEP). A female general from II MEF Command felt that the ink on my arm was an ill representation of what the Marine Corps was all about. I’m not going to lie, if I were to ever run into her again, I would probably tell her… never mind. It wouldn’t be nice.

So as of now, I am a very proud home owner, I have an awesome girlfriend named Jessica, and I work as a contractor on Camp Lejeune. For work I facilitate and direct simulation training as well as teach Marines how to use those training applications and programs on their own and how to tailor the training to best fit their individual unit’s mission. I refuse to describe my job any further because if I did, you’d fall asleep and thus would defeat the purpose of me writing this. I will tell you that I love my job. I really do. Almost just as much as being a active war fighter but doing my job now allows me to go to school full time as well earning my degree in Social Sciences with a focus in Homeland Security. The downside of my situation is that am constantly interacting and teaching active and reserve Marines. My day-to-day interaction with these guys places me in this perpetual cloud of nostalgia. Hearing their bitching, bull-shitting, and the retarded nonsense that they have to deal with on a day-to-day basis is really one of the highlights of my day. I’m lucky that I still have a few Marine friends in the area. They have been the saving grace of my sanity on a number of occasions. I just feel better being around them. It’s like that trite phrase you always hear: square hole, square peg. Almost everyone surrounds themselves with like-minded people… people we just lock step with based on moral commonalities. It boils down to human nature really. So, minus my military career, I really feel as if I am normal person. Kind of…

You’re probably asking yourself, “What, kind sir, is this blog going to be about?” Well, I’ll tell you my loyal little minion, it’s going to be about my journey of eventually competing in the Spartan Death Race. Why do I want to do this? What the shit is wrong with me? I really don’t know! But I am absolutely enthralled to the point of pure obsession. The idea of completing this race just drives me; it moves me. It makes me absolutely slaughter myself in every work out that I do. “Slaughter? What, kind sir, do you mean by slaughter?” I’ll tell you what I mean, my little minion. If you cannot metaphorically draw a chalk outline of my dead fucking soul on the ground as it lays in a lake of my sweat after I finish my workout, then I didn’t do something right and I will indeed make up for it next time. I am just absolutely captivated by this race. I visit the web site, watch videos, read blogs, and dream sweet dreams about competing in the coveted race every single day. If you are unfamiliar with it, it’s ok. A part of what is so great about it is that it is so elusive. But I’ll tell you what I think is important and what little I do know about it.

Firstly, it is a race that occurs once a year in a little town called Pittsfield, Vermont. The race is an ultimate test of one’s mental resolve, fortitude, toughness, and skills in circumvention of difficulties and obstacles. Ninety percent of those who compete do not even finish. This is due to common injuries such as broken bones, exhaustion, and hypothermia… most of the time the racer just completely gives up and quits. There are also some pre-race duties that you will have to complete either by yourself or with a team. This is usually done the night before the race and the obligations, depending on how efficient you are as an individual or team, take you on through the night and are usually finished just before the race itself starts. For example, I know that some teams are tasked with building bridges, parts of obstacles, clearing paths, etc. On an individual level, this past year the racers were tasked with a very benign, tiring, and repetitive task just before the race started. The task was to pick up a rock (of which was provided) that weighs roughly twenty five pounds and lift it above their head and place it back on the ground. This was done with their racing pack which weighed anywhere from 50-70lbs. Oh yea… they did this for four hours without stopping. Doesn’t this sound like fun? I get all tickled inside just thinking about it! I’ll spare you on the other details. If you want to learn more about the death race, watch the video below and go to www.SpartanRace.com or, for more about the death race itself, www.youmaydie.com.

Now it would be madness to sign up and take a shot at this without competing in some sort of ultra endurance race prior to this. This race is eating up seasoned Iron Man triathlon athletes, men from all tiers of our nation’s elite Special Forces Operations community, and extreme outdoorsman alike. But for folks such as myself, just starting out in individual racing events, Spartan Race offers three sub-tier races as well. They are held all over the country throughout the year. Each race occurs outdoors and you can bet on getting wet, muddy, cold or a combination thereof throughout the race and you can pretty much bet on finishing exhausted and beat up. The Spartan Sprint is a 5k obstacle race that can have up to fifteen obstacles along the way and about 98% of those who start, finish. The Super Spartan is usually around eight miles in length with an average of over twenty obstacles, occurs in areas with greater deviations in elevation throughout, and about 80% of those who start the race finish. The Spartan Beast occurs in areas of mountain-like terrain, is around twelve miles in length, and only about 55% of those who start the Beast actually finish it. Conveniently enough, the Beast offers a “graceful exit” somewhere along the three-mile mark in which is a path that allows you to quit without having to trudge through mud, forests, and swamps to get back to the starting area. Competing in all three types within a single calendar year is known as getting your trifecta and should be the goal of every adventure racer. But if I want to compete in the Death Race of 2013, I have to do more; much more. And I will go into what that will be in my next blog.

Here's one of their promo videos:

So as you can see, I certainly have enthusiasm about competing and about one day finishing the Death Race. How far it will take me will be seen in this blog. I promise you this: if I ever quit or give up on my goal, I will post it in this blog and leave it up forever for everyone to see. So follow close. In my next entry, I will go over where I am at in my fitness level, what events I have signed up for, and any other information that I think is relevant or pertinent in my journey to The Spartan Death Race. Thanks for reading.