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The Monday Morning Epistle |
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4 April 2005 | ![]() |
| Mary's saga of
Eagle Scouts reached its climax Friday evening as she sat on not
one, but two Eagle Boards of Review. This formal conclusion
to months of work by Eagle candidates and Scout leadership was
originally scheduled for Saturday afternoon. However, the surprise
announcement Friday morning that the District Eagle Chairwoman
could not attend threw all the plans out the window. To further
complicate matters, her only logical replacement-the District
Advancements Chairman-would only be available on Friday, so Mary
went into hyper-drive…one more time. In a flurry of phone
calls and meetings that would have made the White House proud, she
rescheduled both Boards of Review with adult board members and
candidates, arranged for an Honor Guard of current Eagle Scouts,
and even managed to vacuum the Scout Hut with a busted vacuum
cleaner. When Mary called one of the candidate's parents, only to
realize that she had just gotten a Brigadier General out of bed,
she wisely deleted the phone number from the Troop Roster as soon
as she finished apologizing, and once she got the information she
needed! (The private phone numbers of flag rank officers at EUCOM
are generally reserved for organizations like the Pentagon, not the
Boy Scouts.) Both candidates were understandably nervous, but after
due deliberation the Boards recommended to National that the rank
of Eagle be awarded to Christopher Holman and Scott Csrnko; more
importantly, Mary's done now…at least until it's Drew's turn.
On Saturday, Alex and I reached a milestone in our training for the 24 Hour Marathon, as we both took part in the 'Spring Fling 5K Fun Run' on Patch Barracks, sponsored by the 6th ASG. The weather was absolutely perfect for an outdoor athletic event-clear and sunny with temperatures in the low 60's-and the entire family arrived at Husky Field about 20 minutes prior to the 10:30 start. Only Alex and I were actually running, as Jacob considered it way too much like exercise and chose to read his book instead. Garion had persuaded us to bring his Bobby-Car (by asking "Bobby-Go?" roughly 472 times between the house and the van) and was content to ride it around the infield track. This was Alex's first experience as a participant in an official race, and he struggled at times to maintain his facade of teen-aged nonchalance, especially as we joined the throng of 400+ runners at the starting line. As we waited for the starter's gun, I fulfilled my duties as a father and mentor by lecturing Alex on the lessons I have learned as a runner, the most important of which is pacing. I spent ten minutes telling him repeatedly "Don't start out too fast…don't chase the faster runners…don't watch the feet of people in front of you…pick your own pace and stick with it." to which Alex fulfilled his duties as a son by nodding agreeably at everything I said. Less than a minute later, the starting gun fired and I watched Alex take off at a full sprint like a scalded cat… I managed to keep Alex in sight as he passed the first marker (1 km, or about 2/3 of a mile) just inside the 5 minute mark; since I pace our practice runs at about 11 minutes per mile, I didn't expect him to keep up that speed for much longer. Sure enough, as we reached the 2 km marker, I caught up to Alex just as he ran out of steam. The remaining 3 kilometers were an exercise in parental morale building, as I patiently and lovingly encouraged Alex not to give up. His legs hurt, his side hurt, his stomach hurt, but he stubbornly kept jogging along beside me, even as other runners passed us. The last kilometer was a long, uphill run back into Patch, and I succeeded in goading Alex into reaching a yellow pole about a hundred yards ahead of us, only to viciously announce that since he had made it that far, he surely could make it to the street light…another hundred yards ahead. Nearly in tears, Alex sucked it up and found that last bit of 'go power' as we made the last lap around Husky Field. He crossed the finish line with one last agonizing sprint, right at the 33 minute mark…and at precisely 11 minutes per mile as planned! Since neither Alex nor I had any chance of medaling, we skipped out on the celebratory Bar-B-Que and headed for home. [Whoops! I found out this morning that Alex actually won the bronze medal in his age group…but he doesn't know that yet.] After gleefully dumping all three of our sons on the Husk family, Mary and I drove about 120 miles to the town of Hammelberg, just north of Würzburg, to Schloß Saaleck. 'Castle-Hotel Saaleck' is a privately-owned, 13th century castle that has been transformed into an elegant combination of restaurant and hotel; our spacious room was on one corner of the castle, and offered a breathtaking view of the valley below. Once unpacked, we joined Cherry and about two dozen colleagues from the US Army clinic in Schweinfurt to celebrate Lew's promotion to colonel. This party was a surprise, and Lew was clearly astonished and delighted to be the guest of honor. Lew's father, twin sister, and son had made the trans-Atlantic trip to witness his formal promotion ceremony, so after dinner, we joined the family at the bar for good German beer and adult conversation. When I casually asked Lew's father if he had every visited Germany before, he answer rather cryptically "Not at ground level." Chuckling at my obviously puzzled expression, he went on to explain that he had served as a B-24 navigator and bombardier during World War II. After reviewing the peasants below-and enjoying a rare opportunity to sleep late together-Mary & I reluctantly packed our finery back into the trunk of my BMW and headed for home. Along the way, we succumbed to the siren song of the Würzburg PX, and stopped for some gratuitous self-indulgence (and lunch) at one of the larger US military shopping facilities in Germany. Upon seeing the pile of new DVDs, our children forgave us for temporarily abandoning them, and the whole family started preparing for the ISS 5th grade trip to Space Camp…but that's for next week. KidBit: As Alex & I jogged onto the track around Husky Field, I pointed out a gaggle of teen-aged girls loitering stylishly in the infield: "Alex, there are girls watching…let's give them something to look at." Within a few steps, the pain in his legs magically abated and the ache in his side was strangely forgotten, as Alex somehow found the strength to sprint…and he looked good! PotW: At the finish line at the 5K Fun Run: I had finished about 20 paces in front of Alex, and came back to the line to cheer him across.
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16:38 09 Jan 06 |