Soldier Field 10 for the Soldiers

Next Saturday, I will be running a ten-mile race. The race is called the Soldier Field 10 because it ends on the 50 yard line of Soldier Field in Chicago. It also takes place on Memorial Day weekend, to further honor the soldiers for which Soldier Field is named.

I was thinking about these things yesterday morning as I did a 10-mile training run. Sadly, I have never really thought of Memorial Day as a holiday. For me, it has always been about an extra day off and the beginning of summer. I have never given much thought to the fact that the day is intended to honor current members of the military as well as veterans.

I suppose this oversight makes some sense. While I was growing up, I didn’t have much contact with anyone in the military. I definitely do not come from a military family. But the longer I thought about it, the more ashamed I became of the fact that I ignore the meaning of this holiday. I began to list the ways I am connected to the military now, and the list was much longer than I expected.

So, I resolved to make this year different. What could I do this Memorial Day weekend to honor the soldiers I know? I thought about this as I ran along, and then the answer became obvious.

The race. This race will be my first of this length, and the training has not been an easy road. Putting each of those ten miles behind me will be a huge personal feat for me. Although I know that I can do it, I’m nervous, and I always wonder what will drive me to finish. Now I have a reason. I’ll run it for my soldiers. I’ll use each mile to remember and honor the soldiers in my life.

My first exposure to the realities of the military was on a trip to Washington DC with my family when I was in middle school. We went to the Vietnam Memorial, and my mom looked up her cousin’s name. We found the right panel, and there it was: Terry VanOchten. Obviously, I never met him, and my mom never talked about him, either, but something about seeing my mother’s maiden name on that wall made the war real for me. So, my first mile will be for my mother’s cousin. Mile 1 is for Terry.

The other thing I remember clearly about that trip to DC is seeing the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. The idea that people could die without being identified was incomprehensible to me. I have a strong and perhaps irrational fear of becoming inconsequential someday – of dying and having no one notice. So I felt for the men and women to whom that memorial is dedicated. I don’t want them to be forgotten. Mile 2 is for the Unknown Soldiers.

I also try to make it a point not to forget where I come from. I have a bad habit of cutting myself off from my past; when I went from my tiny middle school to a big high school, I hardly saw my childhood friends any more, and when I went to college, I lost touch with my high school friends. Technology has changed this habit in a small way. Even though I still don’t talk to many of my high school friends, I keep tabs on them through Facebook. Recently, I read on one friend’s profile that he is now in the Air Force. His name is Jake Johnson. He was somewhat of a quieter presence in our group of friends, but he always made me laugh. He loved pickles. He also brought me a cake to my graduation party. He never seemed to think much of himself, though. He was unsure what he would do after high school (but made sure I knew I would do fine). I haven’t spoken to him in years, but I’m glad I found him on Facebook, so that I could remember him for the friend he was. I hope his career in the military brings him the fulfillment he seemed to lack when I knew him. Mile 3 is for Jake.

Luckily, I seem to have managed to stay in touch with my college friends. One college friend, in some ways, is the polar opposite of Jake. Confidence is definitely not my friend Stephen’s issue. He’ll say whatever he wants, whenever he wants to say it. His demeanor is loud and sometimes boisterous, and his sense of humor is sarcastic and sometimes inappropriate. Yet after I got to know him, I realized that Stephen struggled in different ways. Even though he knows what he wants (to be a writer), for a long while he chose not to pursue it because several people in his life wanted him to be an engineer so he could make money. He did end up double majoring in math and English, but worked a job he hated for the first few years after college. Recently, he decided to join the Navy. I was skeptical of this decision for a long time, but in time I came to see it as the first choice he made for himself – a choice to leave his hometown and his dad’s influence and figure out what he really wants to do. I hope the Navy serves the purpose he hoped it would. Mile 4 is for Stephen.

There’s only one person in my generation of my family that spent any time in the military: my cousin Nick. He enlisted in the Army after high school, and spent some time in Germany during his four-year commitment. I think those four years were decent ones for him, but unfortunately, at the end of his time came September, 11 2001, and complications involving his release from service then followed. That year was difficult on him and his family. He’s been out of the Army for a while now, but still seems to be struggling to figure out exactly what he wants to do. Whenever I think of him, I am always hoping that he uses all the benefits that being a veteran brings to find something that makes him happy. Mile 5 is for Nick.

Nick’s dad, my Uncle Jack, was also in the service -- in his case, the Marines. He spent most of his working life as a police officer, and that’s how I still think of him – as a cop, not a soldier. We are not particularly close, and his time in the service is not something he talks about often. However, when I was studying abroad and struggling, he wrote me a very nice and surprising email. In it, he described the struggles and triumphs he experienced while serving in the Marines, and told me that although the time was hard, it taught him who he really was. That was something I really needed to hear at the time, and I have never forgotten it. At the end of the email, he said, “I may not be your favorite uncle, but I am a big fan.” Mile 6 is for Uncle Jack.

There were actually three generations of that branch of my family in the armed services; my paternal grandfather was also a veteran. This seems in conflict with what I said earlier, doesn’t it? How can I say that I don’t come from a military family? Well, my grandpa is another veteran that spent very little time talking about his service. I do clearly remember one Thanksgiving when he let my cousin Matthew wear his uniform jacket and hat and carry his sword (Matt, probably about 6 at the time, thought this was awesome), but that’s the only connection I remember between Grandpa and his time in the service. After Grandpa died, my mother did tell me a little something about what he did; he went ahead of the troops, setting up communications before fighting began. My mother believes that he did not talk about it much because he didn’t believe his work was worthy of honoring or discussing. Well, Grandpa, I disagree. Mile 7 is for Grandpa Rich.

As was typical for their generation, I suppose, my other grandfather was also spent some time in the service. Once again, I know very little about what he did, except that he was stationed on the island of Okinawa. Truthfully, I know very little about my maternal grandfather, service related or not. Both of my mother’s parents died before I was born. This is really the only aspect of my life in which I’ve felt perpetually cheated. I wish I could have known them, and I cherish every story I am told of their lives. So the fact that he was a veteran is really only one of the reasons that mile 8 is for Grandpa Vern.

As I thought about the soldiers in my life during my long run yesterday, the list did become longer than I expected, but I must admit that only one person came readily to mind and stood out in a sort of class of her own. That’s my dear friend Alyson. Alyson and I met in college, and she is now a navigator in the Air Force. Without any disrespect to anyone else I have mentioned, or any other service members for that matter, I believe that Alyson stands in a class by herself because she embodies everything a good soldier should be. From the beginning, she wanted to join the armed services, and spent her college years fighting against medical disqualifications and other ridiculous bureaucratic roadblocks. She kept fighting and fighting because her desire to serve our country was so deeply rooted inside her. That passion made me support her efforts wholeheartedly, always, even if I didn’t understand her decision to keep fighting. In the end, she graduated from Air Force officer school at the top of her class. I confess that I worry about her being sent into war – that same admirable passion, I fear, will lead her into the most dangerous situations – but I am so happy for her that I can hardly describe it. Mile 9 is for Alyson.

As I think about the potential of Alyson being sent to war, I can’t help but also think about all the other people that worry about someone. All the family and friends that are left behind when the soldiers are shipped away. I empathize with these people more than I do with the soldiers themselves, and after everything I’ve written above, I also count myself among them. I wish them the unique kind of bravery required to support and honor the soldiers in their lives. Everyone finds their own way to do this. I happen to be running a 10-mile race. I will be running this race to honor my soldiers, but also to honor the work I put in to get here. Mile 10 is for everyone left behind, and most of all, mile 10 is for me.

Running 10 miles is no small feat, especially considering that I suffered a rather bad injury less than two months ago. It’s been a long road to get here, but I am tremendously proud of what I have accomplished. But I’m also happy to share that victory with the people that next weekend and Soldier Field are intended to honor.

Have a great Memorial Day. I know it will be a great one for me this year.