Running For My Life (Part 3 of 3)

For the next two weeks I trained as hard as I ever have. My self-appointed training mentor-Brandon Stokey was simultaneously the best and worst training partner that I could have asked for. He was great because he knew exactly what I needed to do to get in running shape. He was awful because he has no mercy. We trained twice a day for at least an hour each session.

Our morning session started at 6:30 am and our second session started at 2:00 pm. There were mornings where it had snowed 2-4" overnight and the temperature outside was well below freezing. I thought for sure we wouldn't train on those mornings-I was wrong. At 6:25 am Stokey would knock on my door and tell me to get ready. I'd pull on my boots, put on my prison issued wool beanie and we'd go run on the snow-covered track.

Our morning routine was pretty consistent-Stokey would run in front of me at a 12:00 minute, 1.5 mile pace and I would try and keep up. In the beginning, I could only keep up with him for three of the required seven laps. After I would finish those three laps-I was exhausted. In the afternoons we would run sprints, burpees, hill runs, lunges, squats, bear crawls and anything else that he could come up with to make me throw up. Pretty much everything that kept me from joining my wife at her crossfit box. Many of the other firefighters would join us on those morning runs to give me input and encouragement.

On Saturday mornings, Stokey insisted on a workout that involved flipping a huge tractor tire around the track. It was an exhausting workout and required alot of endurance. On our second Saturday of training we went out to flip the tire and it was pouring rain. I kept waiting for him to tell me that it was raining too hard to workout. But a full hour later, we were still flipping the tire around the track soaking wet in our prison clothes. I was as muddy as I had ever been and my white t-shirt was ruined. We were the only guys who had braved the weather that morning. Somehow, in the midst and mud of flipping that tire I had a flashback to the scripture that an Apostle of God had shared with me a few weeks earlier, "God will consecrate your afflictions for your gain." As I came off the track that day soaked with mud and rain, I knew that if I kept working hard-if I did everything I could to get ready for the race-God would do the rest, whatever that would be.

The next Thursday, which was two weeks after my first run, I found myself at the starting line once again getting ready to run a qualifying race. There were five of us running for the remaining two spots on the team. After this race, there would only be one more run before the season started. It was getting down to crunch time.

I had trained enough over the past two weeks to know that I probably wasn't going to make the time. My best 1.5 mile time had been 13:20 which I had run two days before. I also had not seen any of the other four guys who were running that day training-so I figured they wouldn't make it either.

Once again, three other firefighters ran with me the entire race. Stokey led the way and I stayed right on his pace until the end of the fourth lap-just after the one mile mark. I had ran the mile in 7:35 but I just couldn't sustain the pace. As frustrating as it was, I had to slow my run down so that I could finish the race respectfully. My group of guys tried their best to get me to speed up instead of slowing down but my body just couldn't do it. I gave the final two laps of the race everything I had. I sprinted the last 50 yards to the finish line- 12:43. I had mixed feelings about my time. One on hand, I cut a significant amount of time off of my original time. On the other hand, I was extremely discouraged. I had worked so hard over the past two weeks and there was no way that I could have ran faster than I just had. I felt like I had cut all the low hanging fruit off of my time-to cut another :43 seconds was nearly impossible.

On a positive note, no one else had made the qualifying time either so the two spots were still open until the final race in another two weeks. The downside was that because no one had qualified, they would be bringing inmates who had qualified at other facilities in for the final run-I had to make the time on this next run or my chance of making the team were gone.

I recommitted to my training regime over the next two weeks. Over the initial two weeks, I had lost 11 lbs. Over the next two weeks I would lose another 17 lbs, a total of 28 lbs. Instead of having Stokey drag me out to the track every morning, I made sure I beat him to the track. He pushed me harder and harder each day and on the Thursday before the final run, I had a breakthrough- I kept up with him for six of the seven laps. That pace put me about :25 seconds off of the qualifying time.

The week of the final run brought terrible weather. Monday and Tuesday it rained which eventually gave way to snow. Stokey and I trained on both days and on Tuesday, we ended up running almost three miles in blizzard conditions. Although they weren't a fast three miles, I found myself enjoying the run and the time it gave me to think. My only worry was that the dirt track would be too muddy for race time-but at that point there was nothing I could do to change that.

The day before the race, Stokey had me practice on certain parts of the track. The second turn on the track is uphill and slows runners down substantially. It's very mentally draining to run up the hill during the race and feel yourself slowing down. Stokey made me run that corner 20+ times to help get me mentally prepared for the next morning's race. I was starting to regret having ever told any of my loved ones about the race. Everyone was pulling for me and I didn't want to let them down. I also put so much work in and I didn't want it to be for nothing. I was so nervous-I felt like I did before football games.

RACE DAY

I woke up to a beautiful sunny morning. The track had dried out from the storms and race time temperature was in the low 40's. It was a perfect morning for a race. The race was set to begin at 9:00 sharp and being the last race of the season, a large crowd of inmates and officers had gathered to watch. Two other inmates had been brought in from other places to run. There were an additional four inmates from Rifle (including me) so a total of six running the race. Stokey told me that there would be three total firefighters running with me. He would run in front , Christopher (nicknamed Cheapshot) next to me and Wyatt behind me. We all approached the starting line and I said a quick desperate prayer-the moment had finally arrived...it was time to run for my life..

The Officers who were timing the race yelled, "GO" and we were off. Immediately, I was in last place. The other five guys were running extremely fast. Cheapshot reminded me not to worry about the other guys but just concentrate on Stokey's feet. We came around the first lap and I was surprised how many other inmates were cheering for me. Our lap split was 1:18-about :22 seconds ahead of our normal pace. The adrenaline had gotten to all of us. As we came around on lap two, I was feeling extremely good-my breathing which Stokey had told me tended to get erratic was good and my legs felt strong. Our second lap split was 1:40-right on pace. As we got halfway through lap three, two of the other inmates dropped out of the race and walked off the track. By the end of the third lap I could finally start to feel the lactic acid start to build up in my legs.

My legs had gotten somewhat used to this and due to the training I pushed through it. Our lap three split was also 1:40-we were still ahead of our pace because of the first lap. As lap four began, I could feel a bit of anxiety start to push my heart rate up-laps four, five and six was where things started to be a challenge for me. Before I knew it, I heard our lap four split-1:50. Five seconds off of pace but still ahead. As my pace group and I started lap five, we passed one of the other guys, adrenaline jolted through my body but by the end of that lap, I could feel my body telling my brain- fatigue was setting in.

Halfway through that lap, they called out the mile split-7:28 but I had lost time on that lap, a full 15 seconds-1:55. I was trying my best to keep up with Stokey but I was breaking down fast.

Partway through lap six, I knew that I was in trouble. I was running noticeably slower as I approached that uphill turn. I felt as if I wasn't moving at all. My peripheral vision was starting to narrow and my legs felt like lead. I lost sight of Stokey's legs and I knew that there was no way I was going to make it. All the hard work, the countless hours, everything was about to go down the drain.

Just as I thought I couldn't take another step, I felt something pushing me in the small of my back. At first, I thought it was all part of my running delirium until I realized Stokey had ran behind me and he and Wyatt were physically pushing me through lap six. As they nudged me along towards the beginning of the seventh and final lap, the cheers of my fellow inmates and even the officers triggered one last shot of adrenaline through my body. Cheapshot called out our last split-2:00 meaning I had 1:36 to cross the finish line.

After starting the final lap, Stokey resumed his position in front of me. As we approached the uphill portion of the track, we passed an inmate who was struggling to finish. Passing him gave me another boost and we were almost halfway through the final lap.

As we rounded the second to last corner, my vision became even more blurred. I struggled for oxygen as my breathing became more and more erratic. So much of this would determine my future in here, there has been so much stress and pain from past two years that had weighed so heavily on me, it was all there making it hard to breathe, let alone run. I started to worry I wouldn't even make it to the finish line. As my vison narrowed even more, all I could see were Stokey's feet-and I just kept focusing and following them.

As we rounded the final corner and started running down the home stretch, I knew people were cheering but I couldn't hear anything. All I focused on was Stokey's feet. The finish line was now within sight. I could see everyone cheering at the finish line and for the first time in the last few minutes, I could not only see Stokey but I could hear him-he was looking at his watch and yelling out the time....11:51! 11:52! 11:53!...I tried sprinting the last 15 yards but I had nothing left-I was barely moving-as soon as I was within reach of the finish line---- I dove. Not because I thought it would save me time, but because my legs were just about to give out.

I laid on the ground relieved that I had made it across the finish line. Before I could stand up to check my time, I was tackled by Stokey, Cheapshot and Wyatt. I took this as a good sign and as I stood up with bloody knees and elbows, I heard them announce my time-

-11:59-

I HAD MADE IT! I DID IT! By some absolute miracle, I had ran for my life and I was about to get some of it back!

That evening, I had officially been interviewed and signed all of the necessary paperwork to join S.W.I.F.T. I was awarded the 20th and final spot on the crew. Our official crew name is the

 Juniper Valley SWIFT Fire Crew.

As I sit here and write this part, we are headed out tomorrow for our first fire training. They have prepared us to spend the next 4-5 months on the road fighting fires.

I was also assigned my mentor today. He will oversee my education, training and performance in the upcoming days. You probably have guessed who he is by now-my good friend Brandon Stokey...A month ago I had prayed for help in making this run-Stokey was the direct answer to that prayer.

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