DAY 52, IN THE NEWS

http://www.cnn.com/2009/US/01/29/kbr.electrical/index.html

127 days to go.

DAY 49, A NEW GOAL

If there's nothing else I take away from my time in Iraq, it will be a desire to do the things I really want to do and worry about the consequences later. Other than running marathons and ultra-marathons, I rarely do cool things. I've gotten too bogged down in the ritual we can "life" which really isn't living when you think about it. Be honest, getting up early, shaving every day, going to work, doing the same thing day after day - where's the "living" in that?

Last summer, I tried to climb Mt Whitney (and failed miserably). It's the tallest mountain in the lower 48 states, so the challenge seemed admirable. While I was on the mountain, I kept thinking, "Why didn't I try this sooner?" I mean, I was with cool people living a cool experience in a cool place. Cool, right? Cool.

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I guess I'm feeling as if I have squandered some of my youth. I had the same epiphany when Tiffany and I ran the Maui half marathon together. It was a blast - we should have done that 15 years ago!

Now that I'm trapped over here and don't have the luxury of doing cool things even if I wanted to, I've decided I'm not going to pass up that opportunity anymore. When I get back, things are going to change (sorry Tiff, we'll talk later . . . )

So, Brother Jim, prepare for a companion on your next October backpacking trip. Brother Tom, get a flask ready for me to take along on your first overnight cross country ski next winter. And to anyone out there who's interested, join me on an ascent of Mt Whitney 27-30 July 2009!

Nephew Noah and I are going to run the San Francisco marathon on 26 July. I can think of no better thing to do on my drive back from San Francisco than to stop off in the Sierra Nevadas and conquer the mountain that kicked my ass last summer.

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We'll be in the middle of moving to a new state, for a new job, and new friends. I should be totally anal about executing the move. Instead, I'm going to disappear for 4 days to be in a beautiful place for a wonderful experience.

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I'm prepared to go solo, but that's no fun. I'm looking for people to join me. No special experience is necessary - just a willingness to sleep outside and hike a long way. I'll do all the planning - I just need people to show up. Who's in?

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130 day to go.

(183 days until I'm standing on top of Mt Whitney)

DAY 46, SOMETHING FUN?

The local Army transportation company hosted a 5K this morning. About 300 people showed up. I recruited 75% of our office to run around "Z Lake" which happens to be almost exactly 5K (3.1 miles). It was actually fun to blow off work for an hour or so to participate.

The temperature was in the 30's at the start, but still better than Afghanistan. There were too many 18-19 year old Army kids straight from their high school track team. I tried to hang, but couldn't keep the pace.

Regardless, it made me feel like I was back home in a way - doing something I wanted to do rather than something I was forced to do. I'm smiling hard in the picture because some bald Army dude was holding the camera and the steam coming off his head in the cold was hilarious - it looked like some movie special effect.

133 days to go.

DAY 45, TICK-TOCK

As it says, 134 days to go.

DAY 42, MILE 6

In keeping with my "deployment as a marathon" analogy, I just blew through Mile 6. Only 20 more to go. The endorphins are just starting to kick in. Not really, I'm just saying . . .

Let me take you on a tour of what I look at for countless hours every day of the week - MY DESK. Starting from right to left:

White binder, nerf football, whey protein powder, phone, Garmin GPS running watch, picture of me and Tiff in Hawaii, a military bottled water, my laptop (logged into this blog, of course) and headphones to listen to XM radio, some spreadsheet printouts, my "Dad" coffee mug, and my 9mm w/ 2 magazines.

Carrying a weapon everywhere I go is new to me. Before this deployment, I handled a gun for a grand total of 1 day (in basic training). That was it. Now, I'm a regular Dirty Harry. I'm packing day and night. Every once and awhile, I start to chuckle when I think about what I happen to be doing while armed. So, here we go . . .

Top 10 things I never thought I'd do while armed (add "while armed" to the end of each statement for effect):

10. Play catch with a nerf football

9. Lift weights

8. Share a workspace with 10 other armed individuals

7. Talk to my family on a web cam

6. Get pissed at my boss (remember the "while armed" part)

5. Eat cookies and milk

4. Discuss gun control laws with co-workers

3. Blog

2. Sit on a toilet

1. Go to a "war" zone

137 days to go.

DAY 40, NO CHU FOR YOU

If you saw my last e-mail update, you read about my covert plan to squat in a wet CHU (containerized housing unit / aka a small, crappy trailer). I'm in a dry CHU now, so the thought of having a sink, toilet, and shower to share with just one other person was joyous.

I snuck away for a couple hours this afternoon to secretly relocate my essentials (bedding, laptop, clothes, and shower kit). When I returned to the office, the First Sergeant was waiting for me. The gig was up. He needed to return the room so someone else from another organization could have it. Keep in mind, this guy has a wet CHU with a personal bathroom 20 feet outside our office building. So, he has no commute AND gets his own shower. Bastard.



I would have argued with him, but he did hook me up with the Ranger (see picture). I commiserated my fate by getting the truck washed. It's now the cleanest Ranger in Baghdad, at least until I drive home to my dry CHU tonight. It's probably cleaner than me after 4 days of cold, 30 second showers.

139 days to go.

DAY 39, COLD SHOWER

3 days in a row of cold showers.

Honeymoon's over. Now, when I wake up and open my eyes, I have something bad to say out loud. Rhymes with truck.

140 days of "truck" to go.

DAY 34, MUD

An old picture from my trip to the International Zone in downtown Baghdad. It's the only place I have seen grass since I left Germany on my way over here.
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It rained all day yesterday. Normally, no problem. I am at a dirt camp, however. Worse - the dirt here just absolutely sticks when it gets wet. I grew six inches during my short walk from my hooch to the vehicle this morning.

It's a real mess. The vehicles are trashed, my boots are trashed, and there is mud all over our offices. It's next to impossible to get the mud off our boots. We wait until it dries then it falls off. Not good.

On an unrelated note, the Colonel popped his head in my office this morning and said, "when are you ready to go for a run?" Are you kidding? Ready to run? This guy hasn't seen me in action, I guess.

I reached under my desk, grabbed my black Asics 2140's, held them up and said, "Leave in 10 minutes?" He replied, "HUA!" It's an Army term - long story for another blog entry.

It was our first run together. Great dude. He's lost 40 lbs in 6 months simply by running. During a couple stretches of our 3 miler, he kicked it in gear for 1/4 mile or so. Thanks to my handy dandy GPS watch Tiffany just mailed to me, I could see we were doing 5:45 min/mile pace -- SMOKING!

I was not prepared to run that fast. I have been jogging since coming over here. I couldn't tell if the Colonel does that all the time or if he was pushing it to try and drop me. You never know about these Army guys.

Anyway, I'm going to keep an eye on him the rest of the day to see if he's gimpy or fully recovered. Either way, it's great to see someone totally salvage their fitness level through running and commitment.

HUA! (Did I just type that?)

145 days to go.

DAY 32, PROMOTION

This is the furniture used during the Dan Rather / Saddam interview in early 2003 just before the 2nd war started.

My boss back in the states called the other night. He let me know that I had been selected for promotion to Lieutenant Colonel. I celebrated with a near beer (no alcohol allowed here). In fact, I'll buy a near beer for anyone out there reading this!

My actual promotion date isn't set yet. I'm guessing it will either be July 1st or August 1st. It'll probably be my last promotion and the kids haven't seen a promotion ceremony so, despite my desire to keep it low key, we'll probably make a big deal out of it.

BREAK

I had an interesting thought while running the other day. I'll be here for 26 weeks (give or take a day). There are 26 miles in a marathon (give or take two-tenths). Perfect - a countdown I can relate to.

Let's see, that would mean I'm at mile 4 1/2 . . . damn, bad idea.

147 days to go.

DAY 29, BACK TO "BASE"ICS

Nephew Noah recently pointed out that I need to change the description of my blog because I no longer make any baseball references. It has been a while, I'll admit. I guess being sent to Iraq will do that to a guy. Either that, or having the Cubs swept out of the play-offs in 3 games by the barely above .500 Dodgers in '08 and D'backs in '07.

I will not be defeated, however. The following is a lame attempt to make a baseball analogy out of my current situation . . .

Call me Mark DeRosa. Derosa played for the Cubs the last two seasons. He was an atypical "utility" man. Most baseball utility men play multiple defensive positions but rarely contribute offensively to any significant degree.

DeRosa was different; he played second base because no one else could. He played third base when Aramis Ramirez's back flared up. He played left field when Alfonso Soriano messed up his calf doing his stupid little hop when he catches fly balls. Mark played right field when Kosuke Fokudome stopped hitting American pitching after May. Hell, Mark even played a game at short and a few games at first. He did all this while hitting .285 with 21 homers and 87 RBI. He got my vote as Cubs MVP last season. On top of all that, he was an Ivy League quarterback at Penn.

I describe Mark's situation because I am in similar position, albeit the military staff version. The boss finally told me my role. I get to be the author of a report describing all the events before and after a tragic electrocution death of a soldier here in Iraq while he was showering. I can't go into details, but it's a big deal regarding who's at fault and what we're doing about it so it doesn't happen again.

That will be my primary job (a la DeRosa playing 2nd base). I also have to fill in for the primary staff members here at HQ when they are away on other duties or need extra help (a la 3B, LF, RF, and even a little first and short). I'm actually kinda' pumped about it. The secondbase job was not what I expected, but it's good work and should keep me busy for half the season. The other half of my time here will be spent in various different positions. I just hope I can hit like DeRosa.

Of course, the Cubs general manager just traded DeRosa to Cleveland. Cleveland!? Not sure how I should feel about that analogy. My next assignment is in the hands of the personnel "specialists" in San Antonio. I asked for Colorado, so we're planning for Ohio. Not Cleveland, but close enough.

There - are you happy, Noah?

150 days to go

DAY 28, DOOR #3

So, there I was hiking back from the shower in the dark this morning. The water was luke warm, so I wasn't too pissed off. This was the colonel's first morning back in the office after R&R, so I was on a mission to be at work early and make a good impression. I even commandeered an old stick-shift Ford Ranger for the day so I wouldn't have to wait on anybody for a ride.


I get back to my hooch after the shower, step up the wooden stairs, grab the door knob, turn, and pull. The end result was me standing in the dark, with a cold wind blowing, wearing my shower shoes, an Air Force running suit, with a wet head, and holding a shower kit in my left hand and (you guessed it) a lone door knob in my right hand. It came clean out.


It actually took a few seconds for my brain to process what just happened. It wasn't a crisis, but yet it was. I was locked out, cold, wet, and "commando" in my running suit. Not a good position to be in. I looked around, but all I could see in the darkness was concrete walls and dirt. No help in sight.


I tried everything. The doorknob was busted and would merely spin in circles when I replaced it. I tried picking the door catch [credit card, burglar style] with a broken sliver of 2x4, but that didn't work. I even tried my shoulder [cop style], but that just hurt.


After 10 minutes of complete frustration, I slammed home the doorknob with all the "pissed-offness" I could muster. Guess what - it worked. The knob became jammed into it's previously separated siamese twin on the interior. The lock was now busted, but the catch turned. I'm in.


Now, I wish I were out.

151 days to go.

DAY 27, M*A*S*H

After my recent post about salvaging a crappy desk, Brother Bob replied that it reminded him of a M*A*S*H episode. I couldn't agree more. My whole life now is like that show. Sure, technology has improved and I can blog everyday, but basic life is really the same 60 years after the setting of the TV show.

For instance, I hike to the showers. It's really cold now, but it will be really hot soon. Kinda' like the episodes when everybody is complaining about the cold or the heat. I can never get the water temperature right when there is hot water. When there is no hot water, I impress myself with how qucikly I go from dirty to clean.

Another similarity: Our deputy commander is loathed by all in the same vein as Frank Burns. Our Colonel returns today from 3 weeks of R&R (coincidentally my first 3 weeks here), and everyone is highly anticipating his return (similar to when Frank Burns would be in charge when Henry Blake was away).

Getting mail is a big deal. Our first sergeant is the only one allowed to pick up mail at the post office. He goes once a day. When he comes back, everyone anxiously awaits to see if they got something. Nephew Matt wins the prize as first piece of mail received (10 days ago). Tiffany's first package finally arrived two days ago. It took two weeks, but Lara Bars never tasted so good!

Remember the episode about the practical jokes? I tried my hand at it the other day. There's an interesting civilian in our office who has a habit of hording food from the chow hall. He's getting ready to go back home and has been mailing large boxes back to his wife every other day. None of us can figure out how he accumulated so much stuff while over here, unless it's packs of gum and other horded food items. He's a strange, idiosyncratic dude.

So, I typed up a fake official memo from "Sergeant First Class Johnson" at the local headquarters. It said something to the effect of "during routine postal package inspection, we noticed some discrepancies in one or more of your packages . . . ." The final instruction was to report to the post office to resolve the matter.

I had our first sergeant deliver it to him during mail call. This guy started freaking. He demanded to see the policies pertaining to sending packages home. He went around asking everyone in the office if their packages had ever been held up. He asked our Ops Officer about the penalties for violating the mail policy.

The best part was talking with him later that night. I played dumb and asked, "What's this I hear about them confiscating your package?" Man, he laid it on thick. He told me he was being "investigated for sending contraband." Of course none of that was in the memo -- it was just his imagination running wild.

The memo instructed him to see "Ms Rhonda Jackson" at the post office. I was really looking forward to seeing him raise hell, but some of our coworkers were concerned he would cause too big of a scene, so they let him off the hook before we left at the end of the day. He was relieved and pissed all at the same time. It was great comedy. Hawkeye would be proud.

152 days to go.

DAY 26, LIVE LONG AND PROSPER

No cool Iraq picture today, just a generic one I pilfered from the WWW.

Much like my co-workers back home, my co-workers here in Iraq think the amount of running I do is crazy. Yet from my perspective, I am perfectly sane and those who don’t run are crazy. I’ll admit, it has been difficult to get in my miles while here in Iraq, but I think it’s more than worth it. The alternative is to sit on my ass all day, gain weight, and let my muscles (including my heart) atrophy to the point where they’re useless.

I try not to be snobbish about running. I don’t tell people to run. I’ll run with anybody, anytime, no matter how slow. Tiffany and I even ran with Taylor’s 7th grade PE class before I left during their bi-weekly timed mile run.

Most importantly, I try not to bring up running in conversation. There’s nothing worse than listening to people talk about something in which you have no interest. But, if people ask, I’m more than willing to talk about the subject.

When the subject does come up, I’ve heard all kinds of comments over the years. Things like, “I would run, but I have a bad back.” Or, “it’s too hot to be out running – that’s dangerous.” And there’s always the classic, “I don’t have time.”

But the best is, “Your knees are going to pay for it when you’re older.” The presumption is I’m destroying my body by logging miles while everyone else is being smart and preserving their body.

Well, I was very encouraged by the recent release of a Stanford medical study. I hold Stanford in high regard despite the fact that Brother Ken is an alum. The study tracked 538 runners for 20 years. It focused on the health effects of running as people age and those peoples’ abilities as they get very old.

The findings, as reported by James Fries, MD, an emeritus professor of medicine at the medical school:
1. “We did not expect this - the health benefits of exercise are greater than we thought.” - Fries
2. Nineteen years into the study, 34 percent of the nonrunners in the same age group had died, compared to only 15 percent of the runners
3. Runners’ initial physical disability was 16 years later than nonrunners
4. Not only did running delay disability, but the gap between runners’ and nonrunners’ abilities got bigger with time
5. Runners also do not require more total knee replacements than nonrunners

So, who’s the crazy one?

I say long live running! (Get it?)

153 days to go.

DAY 25, SHINING LIGHT

No, my name is not Jared and I'm not endorsing Subway. There's a much better reason why I posted this picture. This is what I have seen outside my hooch the last couple weeks. There's a little white van that sells subs after dinner. Recently, it has been parking about 100 yards away from where I sleep.

When we leave work between 9-10 PM, it's pitch black out. We drive down some dirty roads, around some lakes, and onto Camp Liberty where all the grunts (and a few of us lucky Air Force guys) sleep. It's about a 4 mile drive and as we near our area, we can see this Subway sign lighting up the sky. It's the only neon for miles. It's like my own private beacon to what I call "home."

I don't know why this struck me as interesting. I guess I just notice certain things.

154 days to go.

DAY 24, EXCITING TIMES

See the desk above? Here's the story. My hooch (room) doesn't have much; two single beds with nasty mattresses, a metal closet, a cheap metal folding chair, two small 6 dollar rugs, and a 1' x 1' x 2' end table. Our first sergeant felt sorry for me and got me a TV and small fridge. The TV gets 7 stations (all Armed Forces Network). I only have about 30 minutes at night to watch TV if I want to log any decent amount of sleep, so it really doesn't matter how many stations I get.

Anyway, when I was hiking back from another cold shower this morning, I noticed some of the 10th Mountain Division dudes had moved out of their hooches. They threw all kinds of crap out onto the gravel between the concrete walls. This beautifully dingy desk was amongst the crap. You know what they say about "one man's trash" . . .

I was ecstatic! I grabbed that thing and drug it back to my room while wearing shower shoes. It was quite the site. Luckily, it fit through the door and now rests comfortably in the dead center of my hooch until I can figure out the best strategic location for my newest luxury. Who would have ever thought I would be so lucky? I can't wait to get back there tonight, wipe off some of the dust, and place something on it. What, I don't know, but something will go on it!

I know you're jealous, don't bother to leave a comment confirming what I already know.

155 days to go.