Crossing the Finish Line

Now Crossing the Finish Line… Sarah Daughenbaugh!

When I heard that across the loud speaker I knew we were done! My running partner and friend, Jacque and I did it! We did better than I thought we would too!
I saw my husband, my son Kollin, and my baby daughter Everleigh, waiting there to greet us. I could hear them cheering way before the finish line and it helped carry me to them, across the time mat and back into my love for running.
It wasn’t easy, don’t get me wrong. The run took place around Moody Gardens on Galveston Island and the wind and sand were tough! The wind was blowing so hard that the trees were all moving, and the flags were at full value. There was little relief from the wind and the sand but at mile 10, it happened…
I found my love for running again.
If you’ve ever lost a passion for something that you loved to do than you know how hard that can be to get back. I hope that as you’re reading this, you put in some work to get back to something you love. Do something that makes you happy and makes you smile at some point in the day.
Back to the journey of this run….
I realized that I can no longer use having a baby as my reason to not run anymore. I can’t use my husband not running with me and motivating me as an excuse either. I did this for me and it was hard. 13.1 miles was just what I needed to find myself again and to shut out so much of the pain, the lonely feelings, and the excuses.
I found my love for running again and realized just how happy it made/makes me.
After the finish line and sweaty hugs, we made our way into the Diva tent. A huge, white pole tent with vendors, finisher’s medals and did I mention Champagne? Yup, the Diva celebrates her victory with a toast of bubbly and it was awesome. We looked around at all the runners who’d finished the race for either a 15th time or a 1st time and we both knew that running is a special sport; runners are special people and we’re runners!
We concluded the awesome race finish with brunch and I won’t make you drool much but it DID include waffles, omelets and “Million Dollar Bacon” a new favorite for sure!
Thanks for following me on this journey. I know for some people running isn’t their thing. I’m challenging you though, to get out there and find something for you, something that makes you happy!
To sore feet and many more miles………. Sarah

The Countdown Is On

In less than 48 hours I’ll be well into my Diva’s half marathon!

I don’t need a calendar to tell me this. I don’t need a reminder on my watch or even my training app.

My nerves are telling me how close it is! With full work days and my kids busy schedule, I can still feel that pit in my stomach telling me what is about to happen. My mind has a near constant reminder of the mile by mile pain and hopefully motivation I’m about to feel.

 There is a serious feeling of not being ready but like my husband says, “It’s already been paid for, can’t not do it”, and I know he’s right. 

This week has called for me to log fewer miles to prepare me for the run and help prevent me from hurting myself. Taking it easy on training day, can do!

I’ve gotten so much support from my husband and my kids. I know my Heroes Thanking Heroes team stands behind me and will be rooting me on for each painstaking mile which really helps. 

Honestly, I was so inspired by Desiree Linden winning the Boston Marathon. She faced horrible conditions during her run; freezing temps, rain, wind and still she continued. A quick check of the weekend weather for Galveston shows that it will be cool and a 90% chance of rain. I can handle the rain! I’ve been rained on and soaked for several of my runs preparing for this. Sometimes I did cut my run short but on Sunday, when I know the finish line is my goal, I’m not going to let the rain and wind (Galveston is ALWAYS windy) stop me. I can do this. My husband and my kids will be there to motivate me and cheer me on and I know the finish line with them (And Jon Snow) will be totally worth it!

What have you done that was so hard and full of challenges, but you pushed through and completed it? What did your challenge teach you about yourself? I really trust and hope that we are all so much stronger than we think!

Stay tuned and I’d really appreciate you offering me some motivation on the Heroes Thanking Heroes Facebook and Instagram pages!! 

I'm Still Running This Week...

I’ve put in almost 10 miles this week. I’ve run with my husband and our daughter and I’ve run by myself. It’s been difficult to get my training in these last couple days. My husband has been traveling for work, and the weather hasn’t been great, so my numbers are low to finish out my 2nd to last week before my half next Sunday.

I’m so not-ready for this half marathon but I’m excited to get back to running for me, not to prepare to run a certain distance. I’m excited to get back to running because I love it, not because I have to!
When I’m running my mind is always on my work. I have meetings and the kids need to get ready for school. The kids have practice for water polo, baseball and basketball. My daughter is teething, which makes for rough nights which makes for long mornings. While I’m running early in the morning I’m hoping that she’s ok with my husband and he’s doing what needs to be done to help get the kids ready for school.

Each run, I open my training app and it tells me how much I NEED to run, not really how much I want to run or how much I’m capable of running. It commands me to run a distance to get me ready for 13.1. Last Saturday my app required me to run 11 miles. This didn’t seem much of a challenge since the weekend before I ran 10 no problem. I won’t say how long it took me, but I finished. Saturday rolls around and the weather took a major dip in temperature, going from having 75+ temps to chilly 40’s with a cold morning rain. I was determined at the start of my run that I would finish. Then reality set in, I got wet and very cold and soon thereafter my determination diminished. I managed to get 5.5 miles in, but I was still short. This didn’t sit well with my mental preparedness since I’m already doubting myself. I still have a week left of training and I’m determined to meet each day better than the last.

All this is running through my mind as my feet move one in front of the other. I’m getting closer to the date of the run and I don’t feel ready. I don’t think I’m ready but I do believe that I will finish and when I do, I’m ready to get back to running for me!

Training for My Half

Oh my goodness, why am I doing this again?

Why would I want to run a half marathon again? Oh, that’s right, because I love it. I really, really used to love running. Donny and I would make Saturdays our long-running days. Some days we’d run 4 or 5 miles. Other early mornings we’d run 6 or 7. Saturday we’d go for 10, sometimes even more. We’ve run a couple of great 2 hour +/- half’s and running was something we could get lost in.
Then… I hurt my leg at mile 9 of the Brazos Bend half marathon in 2015 and I’m always fearful that I’ll hurt it again.


This half is different. This time I’m training post-baby after having our beautiful daughter in August 2017. I don’t have the same time to run and us leaving at 5 AM and being back by 6:30 to get the kids up for school is done, at least for now. I don’t have the same passion for running because I can’t commit the time to it and it’s harder this time around. I used to knock out 8 miles and come home and work out. Now, it’s tough to finish 9 and still function like a normal human.
My biggest fears for this run are not being able to finish. I’ve spent months getting ready for this and if I’m unable to finish I would feel like such a failure and my family will be at the finish line cheering me on. I can’t let them down. I won’t. Another fear is getting that familiar sharp pain around my knee that comes with months of physical therapy and again, not being able to run. If I don’t hurt my knee and I finish, the end will be totally worth it.


After recovering from an injury AND having a baby, I want to finish this run for me. I want to prove to myself that I can do this again and probably again after this. Through my training, I’m really falling in love with running again. I like how it makes me feel, I like how it’s helping me look and I’m really pushing through the pain and lack of passion, so I can get my pre-baby body back!!
I know when I hit that wall and I’m ready to call it quits, the John Snow signs telling me he’s waiting at the finish line will help. Knowing that my husband, my amazing kids, and our new baby will be there cheering me on will make the tears be joyful and the finish will be worth every ounce of pain.


I can do this, and I will. To be continued as the weeks draw closer to the run…….

I'm Not Dead Yet: The Alive Day of Jim B.

April 4, 2004. Black Sunday in Sadr City, Iraq. The deadliest day in the Iraq War up to that point. The Long Road Home book and mini series did a decent job of showing what went on but it was so much more just being there. I rolled out in response to one of our platoons being pinned down because some Iraqi lady offered one of our guys water. That pissed off insurgents so they opened fire. Our guys could have left and saved their own lives but...they stayed and fought to protect that family. The one who offered them water and for that, were sentenced to death.

Rolling into the city of over 5 million, the streets, usually teeming with people, were empty. No horse drawn carts, no cars. No street vendors. No people. Nothing. It was ghostly empty and the city was quiet. Ever been in a perfectly silent city? It's unsettling. We rounded a corner headed for our guys and I was in the turret of a soft skin HWMV with my SAW and I saw a little girl, 8 or 9, black hair, white shin length dress or undershirt with one of those big, 1980's phones held to her ear. She waved to me and I waved back. I didn't think anything about it because "We're the US Army." I didn't know she was calling ahead.

We rolled through until we hit a roadblock of cars across the street. You could tell they'd just been pulled across and left and we had just combat loads. I had 1,000 rounds on me, everyone else had 210 rounds and our tracks had 200 rounds of 7.62 and maybe 20 rounds of 25mm. That's it. We went on a rescue mission with that. I called down to my TC (truck commander) "Hey, remember what we were taught about kill zones?"

"Yeah."

"What was that again?"

"Don't go back through a kill zone.'

'What are we about to do?"

"Go back through a kill zone."

"Roger. Just checking."

I knew it was wrong. It felt wrong. We were being herded but if we wanted to get to our guys who were actively engaged, we had to go around this. Backtracking, we found our path backwards blocked by flaming tires and thick, black smoke. Then the shots came. At first, they weren't anywhere near. I didn't even have a reason to look for someone to shoot at because someone shooting in Iraq wasn't that big of a deal. Then it started pinging off the truck. That's when there was a problem.

 

My truck started taking fire, the kevlar of the roof started chipping off around me and I didn't return fire because my training demanded I know who I was shooting at, where they were, what was behind them so there was no collateral damage of property or innocent life. I was scanning every which way for where the shots were coming from when I saw the guy who shot me.

A couple of stories up and less than a hundred meters away, a guy leaned up from the top of a roof and just did a magazine dump from his AK from side to side. I remember thinking "That's stupid. He's not aiming at anyone." So I was watching when this black dot came screaming at me and I watched it get closer, in slow motion wondering what it was. There's a reason it's called bullet time. I could watch it get closer and closer until it snapped my head back, just below my kevlar and above my Wiley X's. The impact bounced me against the back of the turret and then I saw red.

For the first time in my life, I felt everything absolutely clear. I was furious but it was focused on just one thing and at that moment, just one person. When he stood back up to take another shot, training took over and I heard my Drill in my head "Put your sights on your target, breathe normally, at the bottom of your exhalation, squeeze your trigger. 6 to 9 round burst to keep it controllable." And it was. I watched him fall from the roof.

I wasn't the only one watching him fall. I don't remember how many stood up where he was to look over the roof to see him fall, but I hammered that roof with 5.56 rounds until I watched them drop. A part of me calmly reached over and hit the turret release so I could free spin and I just picked my targets, controlling my bursts to make sure I hit what I was aiming at and that same voice was keeping count of rounds fired, acknowledged the slight push back of rounds impacting the SAPE plates on my chest and back as I opened the feed tray cover and slid in another drum. Slow is smooth, smooth is fast.

I don't know how long this went on for. Time really doesn't work the same during those moments, hours, minutes. A heartbeat is a lifetime and a minute is forever. My SAW never jammed once, never refused to fire and dealt its furious chorus without missing a beat. I grayed out when I had expended my last round. I think the weapon firing kept me focused and when it was spent, I was too.

I slid down beside one of the guys in the back and I recall him saying "You're hit."

"Yeah, I think I am."

He stood up and immediately took a graze to the cheek. I remember him dropping down and screaming he was hit and how funny it was because his claim to fame was he was from "LA and was Gangsta Yo!" The guy who was always talking about how hard he was and how it was in LA was griping about a scratch on his face. I told him to get back in the gun and took his M16 and then blacked out.

I woke up in a security halt, the truck was empty. I climbed out and propped myself up on the front of the truck's brush guard with the back SAPE plate and pulled security. I remember it being difficult because one eye wanted to close and my head was screaming at me to just sleep. A medic came by and asked if I was okay and I told him to help the others. I knew something was wrong but I didn't know what. I knew I had a headache, knew my night vision goggles on my chest were shattered so I'd taken hits to the chest and I didn't feel right but that was it.

The medic came back around and told me that I had a round sticking out of my head and put a pressure bandage on me and helped me to a Bradley. It was so full of people, because we had lost so many vehicles, that the back hatch couldn't close completely and the turret couldn't spin because my head was in the turret door. Which was fine, we were out of ammo for the 25mm anyway.

Rolling out, I remember a loud 'bang' and then another from the other side. Evidently the reactive armor that we had put on a few weeks before had taken RPG hits and blew the blast away from us. IF it hadn't been for it, the armor of the Bradley wouldn't have been enough to protect us from 1 much less 2 hits from RPG's.

The rest is a running and driving firefight with ammo down to black levels, my brothers taking injuries and losing their lives and then me seeing the ramp finally drop back at the FOB with (then) Col Volesky asking for Volunteers to go back out after a refit to make them pay for picking a fight with 2/5 Cav.

 

I remember grabbing a hold of the seat I was leaning against and saying "I'll go sir."

"Where's your weapon?"

"No idea sir."

"What weapon system?"

"SAW sir."

He came back a bit later with, what turned out to be my SAW somehow. Evidently my truck made it back with the SAW still mounted. He told me if I could walk to it, I could have it and he'd roll with me back into the city to settle things. I took one step and fell on my face and slid down the ramp. I remember arms picking me up and carrying me to the medic's station.

The medic pulled the bandage off and evidently I called him "Snoopy" because, honestly, that is what my friends have told me I called him. He loaded me up with morphine and prepared me for evac to Baghdad via Blackhawk. On the way, in the middle of the night and high as a kite, they told me to watch the blades and I remember thinking, as I watched those black blades spin in the orange mercury lights "Those are so pretty." No seatbelt, no door closed, I was put in the chopper and, I died.

I woke up sometime later to a female medic zipping me into a body bag. I had a casualty number written on my face and was about half zipped up when I opened my eyes so I just had her chest in my face in a very tight brown shirt. Before my eyes could focus properly I asked for her number. She screamed, I screamed, she called for help to get me out of the bag and put me in another pile, to prepare for evac to Germany.

Creating A Better Tomorrow

At first, we never used resources available for veteran families.  Honestly, it is mainly because looking at my husband, nothing appears to be wrong with him. We did not want to take away from other people that needed it more. Then, life really turned upside down in our home and required us to lean on such kind of help. The first time we were told “No,” it was discouraging. They transferred us to state level. That person asked how we got in contact with him because this was not part of his job but after learning more, he felt obligated to help us. After a couple of days, he called with an apology that his organization was not going to help but he was embarrassed because we did meet their guidelines and he felt we were truly the type of family they were set up for. He gave me the CEO’s direct number. I called and spoke with him. He was very cold and told me that this was not from deployment or PTSD. At the time, we were just discovering what PTSD was going to take over in my husband and in our home. I got off the phone in tears. (Even though I am a girl I almost never cry at these situations.) I figured out the things that we needed help with, all on my own, and moved on. Until Nathan’s 1^st suicide attempt. It was very cold and snowy and close to Christmas with 3 children in the house and him unable to work. I began doing my own research and found a handful of places I could call. Every organization was at max capacity for helping since it was 3 weeks before the holidays. I always ask, “Is there another organization you know of that may be willing to help?” See, our family is Army National Guard. I have been told, “Thank you for your service, however you are part time.” I asked questions because my mind did not understand.

Basically, we as a family serve. Our soldier goes in to combat and comes home a combat veteran wearing the same uniform, having done the same job but does have base close. “Boots down” shows signs of a larger war being battled at home with PTSD amongst other things. Others can receive help but we can not because he is considered “part- time.” I called the Coalition to Salute America's Heroes. I left a message. A little while later, someone called back. She had an accent and was very kind. She listened and placed me in touch with other people within the organization. In the mean-time, she gave me resources that might help. The Coalition moved mountains to help my family. I needed help right away while he was in the hospital and before the magic of Christmas for little kids did not show up. They talked to our VA, they got letters, they did everything they could to get the information needed to help us. Like any business, paperwork is important but they went above and beyond. Since they have Veterans working on their team, the next person I spoke with had been stationed here nearby. It is not the most military friendly community and it does not have a lot of places that will help. He could explain that to them. My family was assisted above and beyond our expectations. Our bill deadlines were met, we had household supplies, groceries, and they made sure our kids had a lovely Christmas. They told me about the Heroes Thanking Heroes program where I could work from home. They encouraged me to call back when Nathan got squared away with the VA process. Six months later, I did. They put me right to work. My team lead told me about the Coalition’s (R2R) Road to Recovery conference. We filled out an application and were accepted to attend. We were overwhelmed with how much thought was placed into the whole event. From a great location to what each family needed to attend, it was all well-planned out. With all the information, organizations and panels in place to inform us in all areas moved us much farther ahead in our journey to find “normal.” I really could talk all day about it. My kids still do… they even showered us with many nice things and moments to take home.

One organization that presented really caught our attention. When they played a video and the speaker gave a testament of veterans just like Nathan. He is an introvert. In a crowd of over 100, Nathan got up from our table.  I thought he was anxious and needed to leave but what was being spoken was something he needed to hear. He went over and talked with the people and brought information back. It has been sitting in our house now over a year. This year has been another tough year for him, the prior year was much better. He came across the card again. He said, “What I am doing is not working, there must be more for me.” He called The Rocky Mountain Hyperbaric Association. Someone called him the very next day. They must have had a cancelation. An opening is ready for February and he took it.

He hung up the phone and then had a huge anxiety attack. He said he could not go. When I asked what he was worried about, he explained the timing was not good, he did not want to leave school, and asked that I please call them. Okay… I called and asked about other options explaining that he really needed to try this so they found a spot that worked for him. He will be leaving all of June instead. He has coping therapy paired with his treatment there. He has a great house to stay at and they give a recreational pass to a places close. We are working on finding a plane ticket for him. He was worried about missing the kids and myself especially since it will be Father’s Day during his time away. Someone suggested to try Luke’s wings. At over $700 a plane ticket X 4 people,  I do not have that room in our budget yet. They help fly mil/vet families to medical places to see their family member getting treatment. They heard our story, listened, and will be graciously providing tickets. He will work harder on himself after seeing us and that is what we need for him to do. For himself, and for us. I listened to the ladies I work with talk and finally I am okay asking for help when it is really needed. We as a family are excited for a new option for recovery. This would not have been possible without the Coalition’s mission to help make this journey as smooth as possible. They feel like home and are willing always to go the extra mile. Every non-profit has their own unique mission. Figure out what your need is, look for organizations that do such things and know there are people that really do want to help. Who knows? … You may even meet as strangers but leave as family. I know that has been my experience.

-Melissa J.