Beyond the Blog: The Carolinas CAN Ruck For Autism

It was late February in 1776 when the Scottish Highlanders slowly advanced in the lifting fog of Eastern North Carolina.  At 1,600 strong, they were confident in their abilities and fiercely loyal to the crown.  Who could possibly face the terror and human destruction wrought by their broadswords? What had these rebels done to indicate that there would be any possible resistance to the armies of King George?  Their leader, British Colonel Donald McLeod, had steadfastly marched them to the coast, where they would rendezvous with an even larger contingent of redcoat regulars.   They only had to wade through the swamp, cross the bridge at Moore’s Creek, and destroy the patriots.   They drew broadswords and advanced, first slowly, but then accelerating into the battle cry…”King George and Broadswords!”  Faster they went, until their world exploded in flying lead and shot.  They faced over a thousand men pointing musket and cannon directly at them from brea...

The morning ritual of trying to keep my toenails from falling off Even now, two months after this day, the powerful experience of this day, and the raw emotions it unleashed, are as vivid as the moment it happened.    I gave up.  Just for a short time, but I gave up, and surrendered to the negativity and self-doubt that I had dammed up for the last three weeks.   In my personal post of April 13, which I did not publish, I wrote this: “ I'm pretty good at showing confidence on the outside when I am in turmoil on the inside, so this is my admission that I am freaking out .  I feel like I've done all the big training I could possibly have done, but is it enough ? How do I know this can even be done?  How will people react if I fail?” These are terrible thoughts to have, of course, and as the Ruck kicked into high gear, I shoved the bad stuff down and moved forward.  But physical and mental exhaustion broke down these barriers, and I suppose starting ...

  Matt catches a fish!   Recalling this day, it was a warm day with flat running through the heart of the coastal plains, full of wonderful chance encounters.   My blog post for this day describes the bear encounter, which I genuinely believed to be a dog until we both got closer to each other.   It may seem strange to mistake a bear for a wolfhound, but in my defense, he was a skinny bear on the move.  Plus I had sweat in my eyes.   What I didn’t explain is that I had a very similar bear encounter many years ago running with a friend during the Grandfather Mountain Marathon.   A bear burst out of the woods in front of Mark and myself just as we were beginning the final climb to the finish line.   This was a big bear, probably well fed from tourists, which is different than being well-fed on tourists.  In any case, this bear also just kept lumbering on, so maybe runners look like more work than they are worth.  And most of us don’t carry...

I had to wake up early, around 5 a.m., to make the 2 ½ hour drive to Fayetteville and begin the day at a reasonable hour.   I don’t remember much about the morning, I was so exhausted from driving back the day before and going to the recital.   I’m sure I was thinking about the previous night and how proud I was of the girls, hoping that memory would provide some mental energy to power me forward through a day of rucking through Fayetteville and environs.   I got to the county park early and began rucking around the perimeter when Monty returned from his family weekend in Raleigh, getting dropped off by his daughter Caroline.   I think he was glad to be back on the road with me, and we were looking at a solid week of running through the low country to the coast, with lots of adventures ahead of us.   The park was small, and just a meeting point, but Fayetteville was busy on that Sunday morning, with lots of traffic and few routes available.   Monty looked a...

There were a lot of logistics to consider over the last few days..Monty was picked up the night before from our hotel in Sanford, returning to Raleigh for a family reunion of sorts.  His wonderful wife Carolyn came by after our return from an epic day.   The next morning, Matt and I met in the lobby and said our goodbyes for the day, since he would be returning home as I would be. I had long since planned this return, knowing that Claire and Amelia’s dance recital would be this evening.   Nothing would keep me from missing this event, particularly as it was Claire’s “senior solo”.   She has taken dance class almost her whole life, and yeah, I’m speaking like a proud parent, but she is incredibly graceful when dancing.   Her senior solo was a lyrical piece to the Beatles’ “Yesterday”...sweet but a little melancholy, very much Claire.  I had to be there by 5 pm, so I planned out two rucks along the way home.   I was really looking forward to some shorter...

  We completely altered our route on this day, electing to head south by southeast from Sanford instead of backtracking to 24/27, which was very busy with poultry and lumber trucks.  It turned out to be a great call...it was a wonderful day full of beautiful country roads as we slowly moved through the Sandhills towards the coast.    North Carolina has four different regions or topographies….the mountains, the Foothills, the Sandhills and the coast.  For most activities, I prefer the mountains and the coast.  But for this event, I have to say, the Foothills and the Sandhills were awesome.   We had the best rural roads, rolling through farms, forests, wetlands, and open fields.  The people were, by and large, the friendliest.   We did have to deal with lots and lots of dogs, and if we parked on the side of the road, someone would inevitably ask us what we were doing, but only in Denton did we feel this as a challenge.  The rest were ...

Our tribe of two grew by 50% today when Matt rejoined us.   With his eternal optimism and good cheer, Matt was always great to have around even if I didn’t express that appreciation very well.  This was a leg that I was looking forward to, and the day did not disappoint.  This was what I had envisioned..pure blue skies with puffy white clouds, long stretches of country roads that almost look like tunnels of green…..all of the best of that the Carolinas has to offer on a warm spring day.   This region of the Piedmont is also special because of the unique combination of art and agricuture that define the region.   The potteries of Seagrove have a rich heritage, originally locating in the area due to the availability of good clay in the earth.  Over the years, more potteries and galleries have opened because it’s now become an epicenter of folk art, like Brasstown in the western part of the state.  Small, independent potteries with a bohemian vibe dot the...

When I think back to this day, I realize it was actually somewhat of a turning point.   As I wrote in my blog for that day, I woke up tired, with a sore throat.   The day was rainy and gusty, which was too bad because I was really looking forward to running through Uwharrie National Forest.   As it turns out, I was more on the rural roads going through the area than actual forest roads.   In any case, under these challenging conditions I set out, allowing myself to quit at mile 20.   Giving myself an “out” like that helped make the day not so daunting, and this was kind of a mental turn-around.   I didn’t have to do anything, but I would try my damndest to complete as much as I could.  The other notable aspect about this day is that I really started to feel the momentum from all of our supporters, as donations really started coming in and the comments were so heartfelt and sincere.    The rain was whipping throug...