thedrifter
06-30-03, 06:10 AM
In the Desert, Marines Fight a Battle of Marathon
U.S. Servicemen Training for October Race Brave Wind, Sand, Heat
By Amy Shipley
Washington Post Staff Writer
Sunday, June 29, 2003; Page E01
The good and bad days at Site 41, a U.S. air base in Bahrain, were difficult to distinguish, especially for those servicemen bent on getting into shape to run a marathon. On the worst days, 35 mph winds whipped up tornadoes of sand, pelting and blinding those venturing out in running shoes.
On the best days, the wind blew less frenetically, leaving only the searing temperatures, which were always above 90 degrees, and which always make running in the midday sun unimaginable.
On the worst days, security clampdowns prevented free movement around the air base, confining U.S. Marines to dizzying laps of less than a mile along the concrete perimeter of the heavily guarded U.S. camp.
On the best days, servicemen were able to traverse a wider terrain with their ID tags in hand and gas masks nearby, getting a glimpse of the Persian Gulf along a dusty landscape of tents, guard towers, humvees and barbed-wire fences.
"It's either Sunday or not Sunday," said Lt. Col. Clarke Clodfelder, a mission commander for 67 combat sorties from Site 41 who spoke by phone during a brief stint home in Denver. "Those are the only days of the week over there. It's like [the film] 'Groundhog Day.' "
From the base in Bahrain, some 600 Marines from 11 active duty and reserve units provided combat assault support, supply delivery and aerial refueling of U.S. aircraft during the war in Iraq. More than 60 of that group performed a taxing double duty, participating in intense but loosely structured training for the October Marine Corps Marathon in Washington, not because they were required to run the race, but because they decided they wanted to do it.
It started with three or four Marines in February, rounded up by Clodfelder. Having lost 41 pounds while training for his first marathon last year, Clodfelder was determined to run another this year -- war or no war. As the weeks went on, other Marines and Air Force personnel on the base began joining the convivial -- if dusty, sweat-soaked and grueling -- group runs, which Clodfelder publicized with fliers and e-mail.
Clodfelder tried to coax his fellow servicemen by telling them that, as active-duty Marines, they would be guaranteed entry in the popular race that winds through Arlington and the District, and which annually fills up months in advance. He promised discount accommodations in the area and a heady travel perk: Training team members would be transported to the marathon in military aircraft known as C-130 Hercules.
He also used flat-out peer pressure, reminding them that Oprah Winfrey once ran the 26.2-mile race. Clodfelder thus managed to persuade 67 servicemen to sign up. Though most of the personnel from Site 41 have been redeployed as bases have been consolidated in the aftermath of the war, they have pledged to take their marathon training with them.
"They're Marines; they're all macho and everything," Clodfelder said. "When I tell them Oprah did it, they say, 'If Oprah can do it, I definitely can do it.' "
Of course, Winfrey did not have to contend with the same training challenges as the group that sprouted up on Site 41, an air base in Bahrain whose exact location is intended to remain undisclosed. Site 41 housed some 1,800 U.S. servicemen and about 50 airplanes throughout the conflict. The perimeter of the base was about 10 miles. Inside, a compound known as Camp Oasis, which was filled with trailers and tents and was situated about five miles from the airfield, housed the Marines.
When the sandstorms were at their worst, servicemen at Site 41 ran the five-mile route to the flight line with the wind at their backs, taking the bus back to camp to avoid the sand assault. Some days, however, "the wind would blow so bad it was unthinkable to run outside," said Capt. James M. DuPont, 35, an aircraft commander who communicated by e-mail from Bahrain. On such days, DuPont said, he would take his gas mask to the gym, place it next to him on a treadmill and do his workout there.
For about a month during the heaviest fighting, finding time to run became a problem. When the war was at its peak, two airfields at Site 41 were in operation, which split the servicemen into different groups. They flew nearly continuous missions into Iraq day and night, hauling out supplies, rescuing injured personnel and refueling aircraft. With so much happening and shifts extending round the clock, running fell somewhere between afterthought and luxury.
"Flying was, of course, the main priority, followed closely by sleeping and eating," said Maj. Sean M. Baber, 36, in an e-mail from a base in Iraq, where he was recently sent from Site 41. "Days flying were extremely long, so many of the aircrews would cycle between daytime and nighttime flying. The result was that you just ran a few miles whenever the opportunity presented itself and you were not already completely exhausted."
During the worst of the combat, servicemen were limited to 0.9-mile laps around the concrete perimeter of Camp Oasis for safety reasons. "On the plus side, it was always easy to find a run partner," Baber said, "because you would just step out of your tent and there would almost always be somebody running by."
Even so, the claustrophobia proved frustrating. Runners found few visual diversions as they circled the small U.S. base, trying to train for a marathon on a sprinter's oval. "It was sort of like NASCAR after a while," Clodfelder said, "one big left turn."
When permitted outside the U.S. camp, the Marines would run on a gravel road along the fence line on the edge of the airbase, gathering at 3 p.m. or later in the afternoon to escape the blazing heat -- though there really was no escape when even nighttime temperatures are in the eighties. Though they would sometimes veer off on a trail in the sand to jog to a nearby lighthouse, more often the runs were defined merely by military landmarks: the ammo dump, the guard stations, the speed bumps. They would pass security forces in bunkers and occasionally pause at security checkpoints, refreshing themselves with fresh water stored in the humvees.
Despite the conditions, the group runs were always filled with camaraderie. Clodfelder tried to keep the atmosphere low pressure, figuring the servicemen were under enough stress. He espoused the mantra "it's not about running fast, it's about running often." Marines were urged to go at their own pace and follow their own training plans. On runs around the entire base, a 10-mile loop, many runners would turn around after just a few miles.
The issues of Runner's World magazine that appeared at the on-base supply store sold out quickly. Many of the runners purchased marathon training books and, though delivery took weeks, ordered high-tech running shoes and clothing online.
As the original Site 41 training team spreads out, with Marines redeployed to Kuwait, Iraq, Okinawa and other bases, they are urged to take their training goals with them, communicating with fellow runners by e-mail. The regular runners in the training group possess varying levels of experience and different goals, Clodfelder said. Some have run marathons and are hoping to run their best times. Others just want to finish. A few, including Clodfelder, have spouses at home who also plan to run the race.
Baber said he mapped out a nine-mile loop on the dilapidated base in Iraq at which he is currently stationed. "The monuments that I run by now are abandoned buildings, vehicles and ammo dumps," he said. "We also have wild dogs to contend with, but I personally have not been chased yet."
With each passing week, the temperatures in the Gulf become more unbearable. The heat has caused the servicemen to push their sessions as far back into the afternoon as possible, but they have one limitation: dinner. If they run too late, they will miss dinner in the mess hall. But the later they run, the more likely they are to avoid the temperatures in the high 110s during the day. So some of them have compromised: They frequently use the makeshift gyms available at their bases.
"Due to the temps, et cetera, and the wind I'm doing most of my work on the treadmill," Maj. Timothy L.R. Adams, 34, wrote in an e-mail from "an undisclosed location . . . [that is] very hot and very sandy." Added Adams: "It's not ideal, but I don't worry about exposure, heatstroke, getting blasted by blowing sand, scorpions or getting lost. . . . "
Adams said he listens to stacks of CDs while doing long runs on the treadmill, just to break the monotony. DuPont, meantime, said he, too, uses the treadmill often but continues to brave the elements when he can.
"Currently the temperature is 116 degrees," he said. "There is sand everywhere and it gets into everything. When I start off running, I usually have a difficult time breathing because the sand stuffs up my sinuses and it takes a while to get things flowing. The outdoor route[s] get very boring. . . .
continued........
U.S. Servicemen Training for October Race Brave Wind, Sand, Heat
By Amy Shipley
Washington Post Staff Writer
Sunday, June 29, 2003; Page E01
The good and bad days at Site 41, a U.S. air base in Bahrain, were difficult to distinguish, especially for those servicemen bent on getting into shape to run a marathon. On the worst days, 35 mph winds whipped up tornadoes of sand, pelting and blinding those venturing out in running shoes.
On the best days, the wind blew less frenetically, leaving only the searing temperatures, which were always above 90 degrees, and which always make running in the midday sun unimaginable.
On the worst days, security clampdowns prevented free movement around the air base, confining U.S. Marines to dizzying laps of less than a mile along the concrete perimeter of the heavily guarded U.S. camp.
On the best days, servicemen were able to traverse a wider terrain with their ID tags in hand and gas masks nearby, getting a glimpse of the Persian Gulf along a dusty landscape of tents, guard towers, humvees and barbed-wire fences.
"It's either Sunday or not Sunday," said Lt. Col. Clarke Clodfelder, a mission commander for 67 combat sorties from Site 41 who spoke by phone during a brief stint home in Denver. "Those are the only days of the week over there. It's like [the film] 'Groundhog Day.' "
From the base in Bahrain, some 600 Marines from 11 active duty and reserve units provided combat assault support, supply delivery and aerial refueling of U.S. aircraft during the war in Iraq. More than 60 of that group performed a taxing double duty, participating in intense but loosely structured training for the October Marine Corps Marathon in Washington, not because they were required to run the race, but because they decided they wanted to do it.
It started with three or four Marines in February, rounded up by Clodfelder. Having lost 41 pounds while training for his first marathon last year, Clodfelder was determined to run another this year -- war or no war. As the weeks went on, other Marines and Air Force personnel on the base began joining the convivial -- if dusty, sweat-soaked and grueling -- group runs, which Clodfelder publicized with fliers and e-mail.
Clodfelder tried to coax his fellow servicemen by telling them that, as active-duty Marines, they would be guaranteed entry in the popular race that winds through Arlington and the District, and which annually fills up months in advance. He promised discount accommodations in the area and a heady travel perk: Training team members would be transported to the marathon in military aircraft known as C-130 Hercules.
He also used flat-out peer pressure, reminding them that Oprah Winfrey once ran the 26.2-mile race. Clodfelder thus managed to persuade 67 servicemen to sign up. Though most of the personnel from Site 41 have been redeployed as bases have been consolidated in the aftermath of the war, they have pledged to take their marathon training with them.
"They're Marines; they're all macho and everything," Clodfelder said. "When I tell them Oprah did it, they say, 'If Oprah can do it, I definitely can do it.' "
Of course, Winfrey did not have to contend with the same training challenges as the group that sprouted up on Site 41, an air base in Bahrain whose exact location is intended to remain undisclosed. Site 41 housed some 1,800 U.S. servicemen and about 50 airplanes throughout the conflict. The perimeter of the base was about 10 miles. Inside, a compound known as Camp Oasis, which was filled with trailers and tents and was situated about five miles from the airfield, housed the Marines.
When the sandstorms were at their worst, servicemen at Site 41 ran the five-mile route to the flight line with the wind at their backs, taking the bus back to camp to avoid the sand assault. Some days, however, "the wind would blow so bad it was unthinkable to run outside," said Capt. James M. DuPont, 35, an aircraft commander who communicated by e-mail from Bahrain. On such days, DuPont said, he would take his gas mask to the gym, place it next to him on a treadmill and do his workout there.
For about a month during the heaviest fighting, finding time to run became a problem. When the war was at its peak, two airfields at Site 41 were in operation, which split the servicemen into different groups. They flew nearly continuous missions into Iraq day and night, hauling out supplies, rescuing injured personnel and refueling aircraft. With so much happening and shifts extending round the clock, running fell somewhere between afterthought and luxury.
"Flying was, of course, the main priority, followed closely by sleeping and eating," said Maj. Sean M. Baber, 36, in an e-mail from a base in Iraq, where he was recently sent from Site 41. "Days flying were extremely long, so many of the aircrews would cycle between daytime and nighttime flying. The result was that you just ran a few miles whenever the opportunity presented itself and you were not already completely exhausted."
During the worst of the combat, servicemen were limited to 0.9-mile laps around the concrete perimeter of Camp Oasis for safety reasons. "On the plus side, it was always easy to find a run partner," Baber said, "because you would just step out of your tent and there would almost always be somebody running by."
Even so, the claustrophobia proved frustrating. Runners found few visual diversions as they circled the small U.S. base, trying to train for a marathon on a sprinter's oval. "It was sort of like NASCAR after a while," Clodfelder said, "one big left turn."
When permitted outside the U.S. camp, the Marines would run on a gravel road along the fence line on the edge of the airbase, gathering at 3 p.m. or later in the afternoon to escape the blazing heat -- though there really was no escape when even nighttime temperatures are in the eighties. Though they would sometimes veer off on a trail in the sand to jog to a nearby lighthouse, more often the runs were defined merely by military landmarks: the ammo dump, the guard stations, the speed bumps. They would pass security forces in bunkers and occasionally pause at security checkpoints, refreshing themselves with fresh water stored in the humvees.
Despite the conditions, the group runs were always filled with camaraderie. Clodfelder tried to keep the atmosphere low pressure, figuring the servicemen were under enough stress. He espoused the mantra "it's not about running fast, it's about running often." Marines were urged to go at their own pace and follow their own training plans. On runs around the entire base, a 10-mile loop, many runners would turn around after just a few miles.
The issues of Runner's World magazine that appeared at the on-base supply store sold out quickly. Many of the runners purchased marathon training books and, though delivery took weeks, ordered high-tech running shoes and clothing online.
As the original Site 41 training team spreads out, with Marines redeployed to Kuwait, Iraq, Okinawa and other bases, they are urged to take their training goals with them, communicating with fellow runners by e-mail. The regular runners in the training group possess varying levels of experience and different goals, Clodfelder said. Some have run marathons and are hoping to run their best times. Others just want to finish. A few, including Clodfelder, have spouses at home who also plan to run the race.
Baber said he mapped out a nine-mile loop on the dilapidated base in Iraq at which he is currently stationed. "The monuments that I run by now are abandoned buildings, vehicles and ammo dumps," he said. "We also have wild dogs to contend with, but I personally have not been chased yet."
With each passing week, the temperatures in the Gulf become more unbearable. The heat has caused the servicemen to push their sessions as far back into the afternoon as possible, but they have one limitation: dinner. If they run too late, they will miss dinner in the mess hall. But the later they run, the more likely they are to avoid the temperatures in the high 110s during the day. So some of them have compromised: They frequently use the makeshift gyms available at their bases.
"Due to the temps, et cetera, and the wind I'm doing most of my work on the treadmill," Maj. Timothy L.R. Adams, 34, wrote in an e-mail from "an undisclosed location . . . [that is] very hot and very sandy." Added Adams: "It's not ideal, but I don't worry about exposure, heatstroke, getting blasted by blowing sand, scorpions or getting lost. . . . "
Adams said he listens to stacks of CDs while doing long runs on the treadmill, just to break the monotony. DuPont, meantime, said he, too, uses the treadmill often but continues to brave the elements when he can.
"Currently the temperature is 116 degrees," he said. "There is sand everywhere and it gets into everything. When I start off running, I usually have a difficult time breathing because the sand stuffs up my sinuses and it takes a while to get things flowing. The outdoor route[s] get very boring. . . .
continued........