Experiencing the March…the Pain…Why They Do It…

I decided to get out there last night and do a leg with marchers and pararescuemen Chief Master Sergeant Lee Shaffer and Chief Master Sergeant Tony Negron so I could understand some of the sacrifice they put their bodies through when they are marching these long distances. (Keep in mind that I did NOT carry a 50-pound ruck sack!)

So…I pride myself in being pretty physically fit. I work out every day except Sunday. I’m close to maxing the Air Force PT test, a P90X junkie, an every-other day runner, and a mom of two little boys who keep me on my toes. With that being said, and with that confidence on my mind, I started the 12-mile march with a smile on my face and a skip in my step. We talked, we sang, and we remembered a lot of our fallen. It was dark and frankly a bit creepy walking near the edge of the road and hoping a wild dog doesn’t jump out and get me, or rather an alligator as we are in Louisiana now. I think we’ve got a bit more to go before we get to the really swampy areas though. But we had the police following us and up ahead of us with their lights flashing so that gave me a better sense of security. Besides, I’ve got two top pararescuemen with me, so what’s there to be worried about, right? That’s what I thought until Chief Shaffer informed me he had me walking closest to the woods so the wild dog would get me first…lol! Nah, I know they’d go Rambo on anything that tried to attack us!

I was doing great and thinking that the march wasn’t too bad. I was definitely cold and my hands were numb by mile four, but other than that, I was awesome!  Then I got to about mile six and an old IT-band injury decided to say hello. So now I’ve got a nagging injury. Then we’re up to about mile eight and my left hip is bothering me a bit with a little pain. I’m thinking, good grief, I’m young and fit, what the heck?

My feet are still ok at this point but I’m just thanking goodness sake that it’s 47 degrees out and dark as opposed to 85 degrees and sunny. That’s when the foot injuries start bothering the marchers. The blisters form on the feet and then they’re rubbed raw from the heat of the asphalt and the boots. We’ve got quite a few guys who are pushing through this pain now. But they always say this is nothing compared to what their fallen comrades went through and they grunt through the pain.  Our medics are constantly draining blisters and applying the moleskin.  There are some blisters and sores that just make your stomach turn.

I get to mile 10 and I’m searching up ahead for the next mile marker.  We have a vehicle that tracks each mile for us so when you can see the flashing yellow lights on that vehicle, it is a great feeling…almost to the next mile!  By mile 11, I’m ready to see the finish line!  I don’t complain and neither do the chiefs despite a heel injury that’s about rubbed down to the bone and a pinky toe that is so inflamed it’s numb.  We see the finish line and we all get pumped.  We start humming the Rocky theme and pushing ourselves a bit harder.  We reach the end and the chiefs lean over to get help taking the rucks off their backs and they help the next team get geared up for their leg.

I felt great.  I felt motivated.  I felt relieved.  I felt sad.  Sad that we even have to do this.  Sad we’ve lost so many incredible men who live to save lives and make this world a better place.  I don’t know why so many of the good ones are taken, but I do know that it only makes this team of special tactics Airmen stronger.  I know the resilience of this command and these men are incredible.  They know the risks of what they do and they know they are going to lose friends.  But they do it because they are some of the most selfless people in this world of ours.  They are first there…that others may live.  And they will always be there.

But they will never forget their fallen and they will never stop sacrificing for them.  I’m honored to tell their story and I’m honored to know them.

Absolutely awe-inspiring…

These guys just don’t stop despite intense heat and sun beating down on them all day, blisters the size of this great state of Texas we’re marching through, and the pain of the 50-pound ruck sacks weighing them down.  It truly is awe-inspiring and brings me to tears quite a bit when I think about their sacrifice and their huge hearts.  They tell me that no amount of pain makes up for the emotional pain of the families of the 17 fallen Airmen we’ve lost.  And although we are only honoring the special tactics Airmen with the batons the men are carrying, I know that these guys would go to any lengths to honor all of our Air Force family who have fallen.

I’ve learned a few things since I arrived to Air Force Special Operations Command.  It’s never about us, it’s about them.  What I mean is that these guys never do anything for themselves, they do it for their Air Force, Army, Navy and Marine brethren they are protecting or saving.  They do it for their comrades.  They do it for their families.  And they do it for their country.  I believe that these men all retain a unique quality of never giving up.  No job is too tough, no mission too hard to get through, and there is no life not worth saving.

I know I keep going back to my Dad in these posts, but he truly was my hero.  He was a Marine and he truly embodied what it means to be a Marine…the sharp uniform, the command presence, the impeccable military bearing, the brute strength, and the heart that never quits loving or defending our country.  Our special tactics Airmen are no different.  Our Navy Seals are no different.  And our Green Berets are no different.  These are the men who will always give all to save lives and protect others.

I know you probably feel like you need to put patriotic music to this blog right now, but I can’t help it.  If you were to come out here and see the men marching, sweating, bleeding, aching, all in remembrance of their fallen comrades and especially those they left behind, it would inspire the heck out of you too!

From the woman who shook one our men’s hands and then drove off crying, to the little kid on crutches who kept up with the men as long as he could, they understand what these guys are doing and they understand the importance of self-sacrifice for others.