Running For My Life (Part 2 of 3)

Within minutes of making the decision to start training  to make SWIFT , a full moon started to peak over one of the valley's mountains. I glanced at the clock- 8:25pm. The thought popped in my head -if you're really serious about training, why not start tonight? It was a beautiful night with a full moon and stars to illuminate my way around the track. I pulled on my military boots and headed out into the night.

I slowly began to jog my first laps around this historic track. It was absolutely amazing to be jogging under the moon and stars under the shadow of mountain peaks. The track had no artificial lighting and it was so beautiful I almost forgot where I was and how much I despise running.  As I was thinking all of this and making my way around the track, a horribly loud alarm was blaring from the facility bringing me back to reality. I could see the doors open and the officers running with flashlights.

"Just my luck," I thought. An alarm interrupting my peaceful albeit painful jog. Alarms go off whenever an inmate had violated a major rule. Fighting, drugs, gang activity, escape attempts etc. It wasn't as if I had heard this alarm often, maybe once. Whenever the alarm goes off, all inmates are required to return to their rooms for lock down. I silently cursed the idiotic inmate who had chosen to ruin the night for the rest of us. I was so committed to starting my training and just a few laps in, my first practice run was over.

When is first went off, I was on the far side of the track so I decided I would I would finish jogging to the other side of the track. As I continued jogging, I noticed that the officers and their flashlights were headed towards the track.

"Maybe someone is trying to escape," I thought to myself.  "Who is stupid enough to try that?"

I kept up my pace and and jogged over to where the guards were entering the track area. As I approached the officers I heard them yell, "Get down!" "Hands behind your back!" I looked behind me to see who they were yelling at, suddenly I was a little bit scared wondering who was out there.  I couldn't see anyone and the officers yelled again, "Get down, hands behind your back!" "STEPHENS, you, lay on the ground and get your hands behind your back!" THE IDIOT I WAS CURSING WAS ME!

As it turns out, the track area closes every night at 7:30pm. As it was my first night at the facility, I had either missed that detail during orientation or was too busy day dreaming about getting in shape to even pay attention. Either way, I was the reason for the alarm going off interrupting my rule breaking jog. The officers ended up being very cool and understanding, even had a good laugh..we all did. But protocol is protocol and I was required to do a strip search including a performance of the now all to familiar, squogh.

Apparently, inmates have been know to go on an evening jogs and have rendezvoused with someone to smuggle drugs back in. Bigfoot's human vault was empty so I was cleared to go back to my room.

Talk about the walk of shame! I got all the smirks in the world as I walked past the other guys to my room. I was almost to my room when a couple of guys approached me. I could tell immediately that they were already already on SWIFT. They turned out to be the senior members of the firefighting team with multiple years experience. They gave me a hard time about running on the track in the dark but  also said they liked someone who was dedicated enough to break the rules to get into shape. I was about to correct them and let them know that was not my intention, but decided I should just keep my mouth shut. They then told me that if I was really interested in trying out for the team, training started at 6:30 am the next morning. And just like that, I was in for one of the hardest working months of my life.

That night as I went to bed I prayed that God would help me not make a fool out of myself. God would answer my prayers through another inmate named-appropriately named, Brandon.

The SWIFT qualifying races are pretty big events here at the facility. There are usually 30-50 inmates and most of the officers come out to the track to watch and cheer the participants on. Secretly, I think everyone likes to come out and see people fail-that sort stuff tends to motivate me.h

As we were lining up, one guy walked up to me and introduced himself as Brandon Stokey. Brandon is a veteran of SWIFT and has multiple years of experience fighting forest fires in Idaho. I also recognized him as one of the fittest firefighters from the previous day. Seeing him, there was no way I was going to make it. He told me he didn't care about making the 12:00 time, he was going to help me finish the race. Seriously, who was this guy? I didn't know him, but I liked him already.

They called for the runners to the starting line, we lined up and the whistle blew. There were a total of 12 runners which included six current members of SWIFT. There is a pretty inspiring tradition that for every qualifying race, current members of SWIFT run to help coach and encourage the new guys. All I was thinking besides not dying, was that if I did make it by the Grace of God, would have to run this again?!

As we started the race, I was immediately overwhelmed with the pace. As we rounded the second corner, the group was still running together but I knew I wasn't going to be able to keep it up. By the time we came around to complete the first of seven laps, I was falling behind the group.  As I was slowing down my pace, Stokey slowed his and began to encourage me not to worry about the other guys. They had been training for the past four to six weeks and were conditioned to run that pace.

Three laps later, we crossed the halfway point of the race and I was about to be lapped by the leaders and I was certain, based on my heart rate and breathing, cardiac arrest was emanate. The beginning of the fifth lap, two of the guys who had been in front of me burned out and walked off the track. I couldn't help but wonder if I should follow them. I was so far off the pace that it was embarrassing. Just as I started started to contemplate quitting, Stokey calmly reminded me that I was going to finish the run, "You finish this, don't you quit."

I had to slow down even more on the final two laps and when I finally crossed the finish line, I was barely able to to run anymore. They yelled out my time as I leaned my head across the white line, 14:51. I was so discouraged and I was completely humiliated. I was 2:52 off of qualifying. However, of the six of us who were trying to qualify for the remaining three spots, only one had qualified. Three of us had finished but did not qualify and two had quit....and despite my pathetic time, I didn’t  quit.

Stokey could see how discouraged I was. He immediately grabbed me and told me to walk a lap with him. I thought he was joking, walk a lap? I'm pretty sure what I just did may have qualified as a walk!

As we walked around the track that had just kicked my butt, he offered so much positive encouragement. He pointed out how I had only started training the day before and that didn't go so well yet I still finished the run.  He then told me that if I was really committed to making the run, he would train me himself..starting immediately. I was so tired from the run that the mere thought of more training made me even more nauseous than I already was. Sensing my hesitation, Stokey reminded me that just like him, I wasn't running for fun-I was running to get back to my wife and my kids sooner, he said I am literally running for my life.


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