Megan has an interesting and awesome blog post here, about being a teacher, being an alcoholic, and being public with her addiction. It’s a short but worthwhile read. She talks of the strength of AA, but the fear of being an alcoholic and what the exposure would mean – until now, when she publicly blogs about it. And I totally get it. I have PTSD. I have had it, for coming up on a dozen years. It’s been, for too long, something we don’t talk about. Except – I’ve always talked about mine. And that was deliberate.
After 1001 miles, I am retiring my Nike Pegasus running shoes. 1001 miles — there are a few stories to go with them.
I’ve spent 4 months getting ready to run the 2009 Honolulu Marathon. This is the tale of my preparations, the run itself, and what I learned along the way.
All is right in the world. Friday night, we packed out, headed to the airport, and flew overnight to Seattle and on to Eugene. We’re here in OR for 10 days to see the Grandma Sherr and Grandpa Doug for 10 days, with little planned other than a side trip one day to Beaverton for the IBOL World Tour, and a craft day for the wife on another day. I, though, needed needed to get in some miles. 20, to be exact. So, this morning, we all got up and had some amazing waffles at a local place (mine
I ran 18 miles today, including 2200+ feet of ascent. I did it in a little over 3 hours.
I got to to hang with some really cool people the other night. It was awesome. Photos and links galore.
I had a coworker ask me today why I’ve been so pissed off the last couple of days. It was as if time stopped. The words just hung there in the air, like cigarette smoke on a cold day. Pissed off? What the hell was he talking about? 13 years later, or what was probably only a second and a half, I spat out something about just having a lot on my mind lately. No, not angry, just lost in thought. Preoccupied. 1. Saying that, I realized later, probably made me sound like one of those guys you watch
Interesting article, here. I read a lot of articles about PTSD and the military, and I had seen one other one on GEN Ham and his problems. From this observer, I’d guess he had PTSD, but hey, if he wants to call it something else, so be it. I think it’s awesome that he’s willing to talk about it. I am not surprised that he doesn’t see it as a big deal. Now, how many other of our senior leaders are going to open up and talk about their stress and their combat experiences?
At 1005 the other morning, I was sitting in a conference room, listening to my heart. It was beating strong. It was beating a bit fast. More than anything, I wanted to put two fingers to my neck to better gauge what it was doing. In minutes, it would be my turn to speak. No overhead projector, no big screen with my slides. Two senior officers sat at the head table, flipping through slide packs. Buried in there were four slides of mine — Northern Iraq 101. No chance to read from a script — I’d be cold-stone-talking about