The unfortunate part about living in a college town is that in her career field, a lot of the graduates end up remaining in the area to work. The job market gets saturated, and when someone finds a great place to work, they don’t leave. The job hunt was initially difficult for Tiffany, but she finally settled into an office working part time for a wonderful dentist. He was very supportive of the military—he had family who served—and was 100 percent behind us and our mission. Ownership changed in her office, however, and the new dentist inherited the decision to grant Tiffany a leave of absence. He assured Tiffany that her position would be there when she returned, and wished us well on the run.
But much like veterans who have to deal with broken promises from some organizations set up to assist them, we, too, received what at the time was devastating news.
“My services are no longer needed,” Tiffany told me when I walked into our home after running some errands in Morgantown following our return from Coopers Rock.
“What are you talking about?” I asked, completely shocked.
“I just got a phone call from my boss, who told me things have changed and that my hours would not be there for me when I was supposed to come back to work.”
Her words were more devastating than the Kansas winds or the hill I had just run up Quarry Run Road. Our job security was one of the few things I often thought about while running across the country. Now one of my biggest fears had come true. I took it personally since I was the one responsible for taking her away from her job in the first place. She was the manager, caregiver, physical therapist, nutritionist and incredible mother and wife during this whole trip. And I was the reason she was out of work.
“Don’t worry about it right now,” she told me. “It’ll all work out. Everything happens for a reason.”
I could tell in her voice, though, that she was very let down. I just couldn’t believe that we had come all this way, and eight days before we finish she gets hit with this news. If we had left for a vacation or extended time away for selfish reasons, I could understand being told that a job wouldn’t be available on our return from the beginning. But this trip wasn’t about us, it was for men and women who truly needed and deserved our support. We knew we were putting our employers in a difficult situation by being away for four months, but we left under the impression that our jobs were secure.
What also hit Tiffany so hard was that we had received so much support from her patients and she was really looking forward to getting back to work, thanking them for their encouragement and sharing some of the amazing stories of our trip. Now she didn’t have that opportunity.
I stewed about it for a couple of days, keeping my thoughts to myself, but my emotions got the best of me and I posted a short version of what happened to her on my blog. The response from our supporters and followers was overwhelming. We received countless phone calls, texts, Facebook posts, tweets and comments on the blog in support of Tiffany. People were just as irritated as I was, but Tiffany wanted to allow it to all blow over. While we appreciated everyone’s efforts to do what they could to help us through the situation, she didn’t want to cause any trouble. That is just not who she is. Professionalism and integrity to her profession came before personal feelings.
“Life is strange sometimes,” she said, remaining confident that everything would work out for the best. I was amazed at her strength and resolve. She also didn’t want me to stress out about her job situation, especially since we were so close to our goal. So I did my best to follow her lead and put it out of my mind until we returned home.
Tiffany was right. In just the few short months since the completion of the run, she has enjoyed some amazing and rewarding work experiences, which she never would have done if her old job would have been there waiting for her. What started out as a stumbling block turned into a launching pad to a more fulfilling career. Her new job opportunities take her all over the state of West Virginia and she feels very satisfied, knowing that she is doing good things for many people.
We learned that yes, indeed, everything happens for a reason.
Chapter 15: Freedom Run
Knowing we were leaving our house again for another 10 days was tough. Our kids certainly didn’t want to go, and to be quite honest, I didn’t want to leave either. But we had a mission to complete. The weather over the next week looked to be the hottest temperatures I would deal with, and of course, it would hit right when I would be in the toughest climbs of the journey.
We left Coopers Rock, joined by Bob Henderson, a Morgantown resident who happened to be out for a run that morning. His excursion had been sidetracked by an encounter with some bears, so as he doubled back down the road, he ran into us getting ready to leave. As fate would have it, he was a Marine Corps veteran as well, having served during the Vietnam era. He told me that he had been following my journey and couldn’t begin to express how proud he was of us. While he ran a few miles with me, he marveled at how I was able to hold up physically.
“I assume you’ll run on your hands or crawl from here if you have to,” he said with a laugh. I didn’t argue.
After a few miles, I made my way into Brandonville, West Virginia’s smallest incorporated town. One of Tiffany’s former professors in her dental hygiene program at WVU, Carol Spear, was standing alongside the road waving at me as I ran up to her. After a brief hug, she told me that she had surgery on her knees a few months ago, but wanted to take a few steps with me. Carol has a special place in my heart because of the way that she motivated Tiffany in class and clinic, and she served as a great example for Tiffany.
“We are all so proud of you and Tiffany, and think what you’re doing is a wonderful thing for some wonderful people,” she said. “There are some people up here that want to say thank you.”
A few members of the local VFW, including a World War II veteran, stood at attention as I ran up to greet them. They presented me with a check to pass along to the Wounded Warrior Project from their unit, as well as food and drinks for myself and my crew. Tiffany was excited to see Carol, and I was elated to have another opportunity to shake the hand of a World War II veteran.
“You gave us a great foundation to work with,” I told him. “If it wasn’t for your efforts during World War II, things could have been a lot different in this country, and I respect each and every one of you who served so much.”
With a handful of American flags given to us by the crowd there, we took off and headed toward my 13th state. But just before I reached the Pennsylvania border, we came upon a couple of very cute ladies in a golf cart. The driver of the cart, who happened to be the mother of the lady with her, was a spry 92 years old but didn’t look a day over 60. I ran up to the cart as the mom turned to me with a huge smile.
“You look rugged! she said with a twinkle in her eye.
I think that was the only time I blushed the entire trip.
Our time spent in Pennsylvania was very brief, lasting only one day. A former coworker of Tiff’s, Kim Fine, and her husband, Larry, put us up for the night, and showed my kids a whole lot of fun. After the kids each got a ride on the back of an ATV, Kim and Larry took them out for a ride on their boat on the Youghiogheny River Lake. Meanwhile, I stayed back to rest and catch up on some blogging for my website. The run that day really wore out my legs.
Everyone I spoke to prior to the trip who had done similar trips, whether it was biking or running across all or part of the country, told me that running through the Appalachian Mountains would be my toughest challenge. When I conquered the mountains in the Rockies, each climb and descent were all fairly gradual in nature. It was either a steady climb up for a few miles or a long stretch of gradual downhill running. But those were easy days compared to running through West Virginia, Pennsylvania and Maryland toward Washington DC.
I felt really strong heading into this section, mentally prepared for whatever the roads would bring. But as I made my way away from Coopers Rock toward southeastern Pennsylvania, the rolling hill
s seemed to get steeper and steeper with each step I took. Seeing a 9 percent grade sign posted along the side of a road didn’t really intimidate me because I conquered some of those earlier in the trip. But in the Appalachians, a climb up a 9 percent grade was often immediately followed by an 11-13 percent grade heading back down the mountain. That pattern would continue to repeat. I would get to the top of a climb, head back down and without relief would have to start climbing again. The non-stop rolling hills were unforgiving, and put more demand on my legs than I had experienced at any other time during the trip.
Respect
After a solid night of rest at the Fine’s house, we drove up to our start point in Addison, Pennsylvania. The climb from the lakeside up to Addison was no joke, but I wisely ran the last climb at the end of the previous day so I wouldn’t have to face it first thing in the morning. We took a few minutes before I left to check out some of the historical monuments in Addison, which included Tollhouse #1 on the old Cumberland Road. Running along these roads, I was fortunate to see many historical markers from years gone by, which included memorials to veterans. Now that I was plowing through the eastern part of the country, the markers continued to date further back, signifying battles and roadways from as far back as the Civil War.
Tollhouse #1 in Addison provided a great history lesson. We read the details of its operation, how it came to be and all got a good laugh at the cost shown on the tollhouse of the tolls paid by travelers on the old Cumberland Highway.
Horse and Rider – 4 cents
Sled Drawn by Horse – 3 cents
Oxen (Pair) – 3 cents
Chariot, Coach, Coaches, Stage Phaeton or Chaise with 2 Horses and 4 Wheels-12 cents
Refusal to Pay Toll - $3.00 FINE
As I began my run that morning, which would bring me into Maryland within the first hour, the elevation, as well as the temperature, continued to climb. I had to slow down my pace as I approached a 3,000-foot elevation mark. Just a couple of days prior, I was down to 900 feet in Morgantown, but I knew I only had another two days of serious climbs before it was all downhill from there.
All the climbing was also making me extremely hungry. I devoured all the food Tiffany provided at the first aid stop as if I hadn’t eaten in a week. The kids were excited for me to hit the road again because there was a fast food restaurant across the street and they didn’t want to eat their breakfast from the restaurant in front of me. Of course, I could still smell it when I climbed into the RV at the next stop, but I appreciated their consideration. It smelled so good, but I didn’t want to introduce anything into my system to disrupt the flow, so to speak.
During this second stop I made a couple of phone calls to Morgantown because Tiffany’s job situation became a hot topic on one of the radio stations. We just wanted to reiterate that we didn’t want to cause any trouble, but I also didn’t regret sharing my personal feelings about the situation on my blog that week.
At the next aid stop, as I continued down Route 40 through Grantsville, Maryland, an older gentleman came up to the RV to introduce himself. Mitch told us briefly about his service to our country during Vietnam, and wanted to know what we were doing. I explained to him that my trip started out as a way to honor wounded veterans, but it had morphed into an opportunity to say thank you to all veterans. I didn’t want to exclude anyone, and I wanted all servicemen and women to know that we appreciated each of them for their service.
With a tear in his eye, he explained to us the horrible reception that he and his fellow military members encountered when they returned home from Vietnam. He was so thankful that our men and women returning from Afghanistan and Iraq were being treated better.
“Things like what you are doing help me feel a little more respected than I once did,” he said. “I know it means a lot to those coming home now, but it also touches older veterans like me. We don’t want to see anyone go through what we had to when we came back from war.”
“You have my utmost respect sir,” I responded. “We are all very thankful for your service.”
“Here’s my last few dollars I have in my wallet,” he said as he pulled out eight $1 bills and handed them to me. “It’s all I have, but I want to do what I can to help these men feel welcomed when they return.”
It made me sad to hear his story about how those returning home from Vietnam were treated so poorly by so many Americans. They experienced nightmares and had emotional and physical scars from their time fighting the war. Current service members share those same experiences. But as Mitch shared, the veterans from his generation weren’t welcomed back home with open arms—they were often cursed at, called terrible names and treated poorly even though the veterans were just carrying out their orders. I held my head a little higher knowing that in some small way my run had made a Vietnam veteran feel better about his service.
The next several miles flew by with those thoughts swirling through my mind until I got into an uphill/downhill footrace with a horse and buggy being driven by a young Amish boy. I laughed with our kids as I told them the story of their dad briefly outrunning a horse that day while running uphill. Then I would hear the clippity-clop clippity-clop of the hooves of the horse as it rolled past me heading downhill. The jockeying back and forth was fun but I was also a bit concerned that the horse would literally run me down. That’s all I needed—for next day’s headline to read, “Man running across America trampled by Amish horse and buggy with five days to go.”
The Climb Before the Storm
I had two big climbs over Town Hill and Sideling Hill and 33.2 miles to conquer on Day 96, and the forecast was calling for near-record temperatures. I woke up around 4:30 a.m. and, after downing a 32-ounce cup of Gatorade and my daily breakfast staple of two chocolate fudge Pop-Tarts, I began running 30 minutes later, hoping to complete my mileage before the temperatures peaked. It was already 85 degrees when I took my first step that morning.
The first four miles were more of a fast-paced walk. I did my best to maintain a solid pace up the side of the mountain to Town Hill, but the incline combined with the humidity kept me from moving too fast. Once I reached the peak, I was joined by the family and we took some time to stare out at the vastness below. I pointed to Sideling Hill, an area known for a 340-foot cut into the mountain ridge we had driven through hundreds of times before, knowing what a difficult drive it was to get over that mountain. I looked at my mom and said, “That’s the big one for the day.”
“You’ve got to climb that one, too?” she questioned emphatically.
“That’s the last mountain of the journey, mom. Just stick with me.”
“You’ve got this, dad!” my daughter yelled out. And with a fist bump for both of my kids, I dashed down the mountain.
Trying to stay in the shade as much as possible, I hugged the edge of the road running with traffic, trying to stay out of the rising sun. I was getting very little relief running due east into the path of the sun, and I knew it wasn’t going to get any easier that day. The stops were more frequent, but the RV didn’t provide any relief because Tiff didn’t want to waste the gas using the generator to have the AC running. Stepping into 90-degree temps in the RV didn’t help me cool off, but Tiff would wrap a cold washcloth around my head and neck and throw my running cap into the freezer to cool it off, which felt great for the first 30 seconds or so after I put it back on.
As I approached Sideling Hill, one of my good friends Rick Rohn, who lives in Martinsburg, West Virginia, texted me to say he was watching me approach the hill using the MyAthlete Live tracker and he was thinking about me as I drew closer to the finish. I took one last break at the base of the mountain, then began the last serious climb.
“Are you on a bike or something?” Rick texted about 30 minutes later. “You’re flying that mountain!”
I sent him back a quick text. “I’m feeling great. I think I just got my 10th wind.”
By the time I hit the top of the mountain, the heat had topped 100 degrees, and I was
completely drenched. My socks were making a sloshing sound as the sweat was pooling inside my shoes. When Tiff caught up to me on the other side, my Gatorade bottles were completely dry and I was in serious need of fluids and food. Tiff handed me a plateful of oranges, strawberries, watermelon and a peanut butter sandwich with the crust cut off, and had me wash it down with an ice cold 32-ounce Gatorade. The ice packs we kept in the freezer were lying on my neck and groin, as Tiff was doing her best to get my core body temperature down. I still had another seven miles to go, and we wanted to make sure I didn’t break down just before the finish.
Although I was excited to wrap up those last few miles that day, I certainly wasn’t out to break any speed records. The heat wasn’t letting up, and the air was extremely thick. I did my best to stay focused on the road, making sure I was alert as vehicles approached me.
I couldn’t wait to get to the Falling Water Campground that evening so we could crank up the AC and relax. My good friend Clayton Myers from Martinsburg, West Virginia, promised us a hearty meal that evening, and I was excited to see him. He arrived with enough food to feed a small army, and over an excellent meal I shared stories about the run. We also talked about the upcoming college football and basketball seasons, which was a good diversion for me. I love college sports, yet I hadn’t given it a single thought over the past few months on the run.
Although the food was amazing, the blazing heat won out, causing us to wrap up our visit a little early. The wind was starting to pick up, so we pulled the awning back in on the RV as a precaution and escaped the heat as the AC did its best to keep us cool. We were awoken later that night by one of the most horrendous rainstorms I have ever heard in my life, but we didn’t realize the extent of the damage until the following morning when I headed out to run.
Freedom Run Page 23
