Cross County

I've always been very honest about my, albeit short-lived, military career. I served two years in the Regular Army and a one year hitch in the active Army Reserve. No wars, no battles and no overseas deployment for me. Still, some things I consider interesting happened. This is one.


You spend a lot of time running in the Army. (No, not jogging!) In Basic Training, A.I.T. (Advanced Individual Training) and, of course, Permanent Party Duty. Most of that time is spent running in formation with dozens or even scores of other troopers. It can be fun, after a fashion, but can be quite difficult at times since you are often trapped within the group and trying to keep your feet untangled, although it becomes more or less natural, can be a problem. Ergo, there was usually a fight for the road-guard vests since that allowed you to run either in advance or arrears of the formation. Shucks, you even got to stand at every street intersection providing ample opportunity to rest and catch your breath.


There were other ways to avoid “running with the pack,” so to speak. One might be on pass, leave, sick call, duty or even one might volunteer for cross-country. I chose the latter. (Not without a little encouragement from two of my buddies: Gary C. Cutshall and Jefferey N. Radkey.)


Cross-country meant a ten-klick run. (That's 6.1 miles to you civilians.) It was less “cross-country” than up and down the streets on post. Still, there was a lot, a lot, of up and down. We would break off from the rest of the group after calisthenics and go do our own thing. We'd laugh and cut up and have a general good time. I came to enjoy running so much, that I would run sometimes on days when I didn't have to do so.

We ran against other units on post in friendly competitions. It always meant being away from my unit, which was always a plus.

One of the more memorable runs I participated in was for the Fortieth Anniversary of the 101^st Airborne Division. The entire week was a blast with celebrations of myriad sort and exhibitions and mock battle. The day of the run was, more-or-less, the end of festivities. There were runners from, I suppose, all over the world. Many came to the run from other divisions. All told, there were over a thousand participants that day.

We ran and ran and ran and ran. Uphill and downhill. Meandering our way though the streets of Ft. Campbell. They actually had water stations set up along the way and I grabbed the occasional paper cup to help me through the very hot day. When I reached the end of the course, my pals were waiting on me, (yes, they were faster,) and they cheered me on as I came closer to my destination, finally sprinting across the finish line. I was pleased to be told that I actually finished in the top one hundred of the runners that day. Not a small achievement, considering my flat feet and that there were many guys and gals there tougher than I.


I normally did well on these runs. I never finished first, but never finished last. Was I the strongest? Was I the fastest? Nope, I think not. I did have a secret to my, shall I say, success, though. I was persistent and determined. I'll explain exactly what I mean.


While traveling along the post streets, crowded with runners, I observed many who were falling by the wayside, “falling out” we called it. Many slowing down and, even, quite a few, just walking. I knew if I simply kept a steady pace, I'd easily leave many of them behind. The method that I employed, though, that allowed me to advance furthest of all among the multitude, was what happened on any incline we reached.


Most people tend to slow down when going uphill, but not me! No, this was where I, shall we say, shined. As everyone else was slowing down, I would actually pour on the steam. This not only allowed me to pass a few, but I would pass many more even than I might have. It was a system that worked without fail against the average weaker and slower runners. Not so much so against the really strong contestants, but, hey, I was never going to catch them anyway.


So, today, looking back, knowing that I once could and would run all those miles and actually enjoy it, astounds even myself to this day. It was a great experience and the memories I enjoy and the lessons I learned have been invaluable to me down through the decades.