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  “When you asked me and I realized you were raising money for injured veterans, I immediately said yes,” Doug later told me. “But at that time I didn’t even know how far I was going to be running with you. Once I found out, I increased my training schedule to prepare for this adventure and this event really opened my eyes to what commitment, dedication and support can do for a cause.”

  In fact, Doug shared with me both during the run on this day and months later that he was really able to sort through some things in his head during the run that he had been contemplating regarding the future direction of his life.

  “As the miles ticked off when we were running, it got me thinking about my future and what I wanted to do down the road,” Doug said. “I had taught school for 31 years and retirement had crossed my mind. During that run, I thought about this in-depth, weighing my options. Running the open roads allows you to open your mind and really think about what may be best for you and that is what I did.

  “Because of you and my experience during that first day of your run across America, I decided to retire in June 2012. Now I am free to help other causes in my community. I want to thank you, Jamie, for an amazing experience and for giving me the chance to be a part of your adventure and allowing me the opportunity to look at my future with a clear head.”

  It was a great feeling to learn that our day spent together on the road gave him the push he needed to follow where his heart was leading him.

  Promoting the Cause

  Since my reason for doing this run was to raise awareness and funds for organizations that assist veterans, I cherished every opportunity to speak to the news media about my run and the mission. When reporters would call me or chase me down along the road during a run, even if it meant stopping for 10-15 minutes to talk to them about the run, I would always oblige. At times stopping to talk took me out of my rhythm a little bit, but in the grand scheme of things, I realized that falling 10-15 minutes off my pace usually didn’t matter that much. I had 100 days—or 2,400 hours—to finish this run. The veterans were far more important than keeping to a strict schedule so I never concerned myself with finishing my run a few minutes later or missing out on a few minutes of sleep here and there.

  On this first day of the run, I was approached by a reporter from the local newspaper in Coos Bay as we ran through town. We allowed them to take pictures and get a few quotes from me about the trip. Any chance I had to share the story of what we were doing also enabled me to give thanks and attention to the veterans that this run was all about. After the interview, we made our way to the House of Confusion, which was a little more than 19 miles into the run. This is where Kelly had left his car, and I was extremely proud of him that he had run almost the entire 19 miles, taking just a short break to ride in the motorhome and rest his legs. His will to push through and run a distance that he hadn’t run before was so inspiring to me. It was bittersweet to say goodbye to Kelly after having spent only a short time with him, but the time we had together was special.

  While we were stopped, I did an interview with a radio station back in West Virginia. As I was preparing to head out on the next leg of the run, a family that had seen the wrap on our RV advertising my Run for Wounded Warriors approached us, introduced themselves and asked for more information about what we were doing. I explained to them that I was running across America to raise money for wounded veterans.

  “I bet you’re excited to be finishing up aren’t you?” asked the gentleman after taking a photo of me with his grandkids, obviously thinking I was finishing, not starting, on the West coast.

  “I wish I was wrapping this thing up!” I laughed. The whole crew got a good laugh out of that, and the family just stared at me in disbelief as we ran off.

  Doug and I had a little more than 20 miles to go to wrap the day up and make our way into Myrtle Point, so off we went, running against traffic. But here in Oregon we not only had to be aware of cars and trucks, but also log trucks hauling huge loads. It was then that I realized why Tiffany would laugh whenever she saw a log truck in West Virginia loaded with tiny “toothpicks,” as she referred to them. The one smell I will remember forever from this trip is the strong odor of freshly cut logs as the trucks blew by us. Every log truck that barreled past forced me to lower my head to keep my hat from blowing off my head. But as the trucks blew past, the scent of those logs burned through my nostrils and almost seemed to sharpen my awareness of everything else around me. I also had to deal with the little shards of bark or small limbs and needles that seemed to jump off the trucks and onto me, but after the first couple of experiences getting pelted with wood, I quickly learned to watch out for debris.

  We also had to deal with the lack of a shoulder along the road at times through the last half of this run. As we continued to tick off the miles, the road at times seemed to close in on us. Going around some of the turns and curves, the hillside bumped right against the white line on the side of the road. We had to pay close attention while running through those sections, turning our heads to listen for oncoming traffic when we couldn’t see it because of the blind left hand turns we ran into.

  Throughout the day, after an initial rise in temperature, it steadily began to drop as the number of clouds increased and the wind began to come at us in bursts. Sometimes the clouds would send a few sprinkles down on us, but 35.6 miles into the run, with just four miles to go, the wind really picked up and the rain came down a bit harder. Wet, tired and hungry, we climbed into the RV for our final aid stop and the aroma of warm macaroni and cheese really energized me. Our legs were definitely feeling the effects of pounding the pavement for the past 6 ½ hours, but Doug and I only a few more miles to go. Doug was really pushing himself at this point, running several miles longer than any distance he had ever previously gone. But the conversations we shared and the encouragement we offered each other really helped us both get through the miles.

  As we approached the end point of the first day, a number of residents in Myrtle Point came out to cheer us on and congratulate us on completing our first day. Doug and I exchanged hugs and congratulations on knocking out nearly 40 miles together. I didn’t have much down time immediately after finishing the run, however. After dropping Doug off at his home, we had to get to the Veteran’s Memorial in Myrtle Point at 7 p.m. for a ceremony they had organized. These opportunities to let local veterans in the towns I was passing through know how much I appreciated them were some of my most cherished memories of the entire journey.

  I was so honored and humbled to be standing there in front of the memorial with veterans from the Myrtle Point VFW Post 2928, posing with them for photographs. The stories they shared with me about the battles they participated in, friends who never returned home from battle and the long periods of time they were away from their families, not knowing if they’d ever see their loved ones again, made me appreciate even more the foundation the older veterans had laid for veterans from my generation. What was even more amazing to me was the fact that they all spoke of their service with great pride, especially considering how they were greeted when they returned home from Vietnam and other conflicts. Our society was not kind to these men and women, yet here they stood, proud to have served and unabashedly expressing their love for their country.

  After that ceremony we went to my mother-in-law’s house to grab some dinner and get me off my feet. I knew I needed to allow not only my body to recover, but also my mind. I still had plenty of adrenaline from the day’s events, so it was difficult to get some quality rest. But I had 33 miles staring at me the next morning, with an increase in elevation from the 100 we were currently at to just over 1,000 by the end of the day. I fell asleep that night with a smile on my face, satisfied that the first day had been a success and pleased with the amount of encouragement and support that I had received in the first 24 hours of this 100-day journey.

  Chapter 5: One Day at a Time

  Unlike the opening day, which included festivities and fellow runners accomp
anying me, I knew Day 2 was going to be relatively uneventful. I was pleased that I felt very little muscle fatigue or soreness that morning as I slipped on my No. 2 pair of running shoes. (I numbered each of my 10 pairs of shoes using a small piece of tape on the shoestrings and rotated them daily so the tread would wear evenly and I would have a consistent feel when running in each pair. This also prevented me from having to break in a new pair of shoes every few weeks.) I headed out on the open road and was accompanied only by the steady drops of rain. It didn’t take long for me to find some inspiration. About three miles into the run, I witnessed a beautiful bald eagle flying overhead. The majestic beauty and grace it displayed as it soared along the mountaintops was symbolic of America’s freedom. A little further into the run, there was a herd of elk along the roadside, which while not really inspirational, was still an interesting sight to behold and it particularly excited our kids.

  Shayna used Skype to communicate with her classmates and she was able to share some views of the gorgeous mountains, which seemed overwhelming in size to the children in comparison to the mountains we have in West Virginia. I was even able to chat with the class for a couple of minutes during a stop, which seemed to excite the kids while also lifting my spirits since I enjoy the opportunity to inspire others, especially children.

  My family’s spirits were also lifted later that day. Typically when a police officer pulls up behind you, it means you are in trouble. But today the officer who pulled up behind the RV while my family was stopped on the side of the road and I was out running wasn’t there to issue a citation, he was there to offer words of encouragement. A.C. “Rock” Rakoski is the chief of police for the Myrtle Point Police Department and is a retired Marine Corps 1st Sergeant. He spoke with Tiffany, briefly sharing his experience in the Marines before his retirement from the military in 2002 after 20 years of service. “I read about your run in the local newspaper,” he told her. “I was hoping I’d be able to find your support vehicle, say hi and show you my support.” It was great for Tiffany to receive his words of encouragement and later I was equally inspired when she relayed the story to me.

  I felt really good through the run that day and enjoyed the opportunity to see the country on foot, one step at a time, giving me a view of America unlike anything I had ever experienced. A reporter from KMTR in Roseburg, Oregon, caught up with me about 19 miles into the run that day. The interview began with him asking me, “Did you just get started today? You don’t seem too winded.” I chuckled at the reaction on his face when I told him I was almost 20 miles into the run.

  I had some climbs to tackle during the last portion of the day’s run as I made my way toward Camas Valley. At one point, the climb was so brutal that I pulled my hat down over my eyes, kept my focus about five feet in front of me and plowed ahead. I finally took the opportunity to lift my hat and head and look back at the 500 feet in elevation that I had climbed over the past mile. Viewing the portion of the climb I had just conquered gave me a sense of accomplishment and awe but also a realization that the hill was nothing compared to what awaited me in the coming days. I was grateful that I had trained myself to focus on putting one foot in front of the other rather than getting too caught up in looking at the challenges ahead of me. The peak of the climb also offered an amazing view of the mountains and landscape below. After only two days on the road, this had already become a life-changing experience for me.

  Setting the Tone

  I still felt good when I woke up the morning of Day 3, but I had no idea that this day would end up defining my entire journey. Just as it had been 24 hours earlier, it was a rainy and damp morning. The fog was beginning to lift over the mountains in Camas Valley, so I suggested that Tiffany spend some time taking photographs of the landscape while I was out on the first leg of my run. I tried to always keep in mind that my wife and kids were making a huge sacrifice in accompanying and assisting me with the run, so they deserved to take any chance they had to get out of the motorhome and do things they enjoyed. My wife is passionate about photography and is extremely talented. I am very grateful that she was able to so skillfully visually document our trip. In fact, for various reasons, the experiences of our journey across America reignited her passion for photography and allowed her to focus more time on growing her photography business once we returned home.

  Early on in my run that day, as I made my way through a small community called Ten Mile, a motorist passing by slowed down and told me to have a safe journey to Maryland. He must have seen the news clip from KMTR the day before. I ran by a small gas station in town, and a guy walked out of the station applauding, wishing me well and thanking me for what I was doing. More people stopped and spoke to Tiff and the crew in the RV as I was out running, even making small donations as they heard more details about the purpose for my run. That not only provided encouragement for me as my family relayed these stories to me when I would stop for food and drinks, but I know it was also encouraging to my crew. No matter how difficult this run would be, experiences like those were what I learned to rely on to help me push through anything I faced.

  The clouds began to break as I made my way into Winston, Oregon, where Tiffany and I stopped to get a picture of me with the Winston Wildlife Safari Cheetah statue. I made the comment that I was out “cougar hunting,” which drew a small chuckle from Tiffany. Thankfully I have a wife who, if not appreciates, can at least tolerate my sense of humor and wise cracks. Later, my son joined me out on the road to run along with me. The kids wanted to be able to run with me from time to time so they could get a sense of what I was doing all day while they were in the motorhome. While this was only the third day of the run, we had already driven five straight days to get to Oregon, so the kids were already wanting to get out of the RV as often as possible. We would later joke that instead of traveling across the country in an RV, we were “living in a box on wheels.” It certainly gave us an opportunity to literally get close together as a family, as well as get on each other’s nerves.

  A Chance to Say ‘Thank You’

  After my running was wrapped up I had a couple of newspaper and TV interviews, and then we had a scheduled visit to the VA hospital in Roseburg, Oregon. This caused us to adjust my route on the fly that day so that we would come into the hospital from the opposite side to an easier and more accessible entrance. It was funny, because my wife and I received several phone calls and emails from concerned people who were following me via the MyAthlete Live online tracker. People also expressed their concern with Twitter and Facebook posts. There was a map showing my route, and since we had adjusted our course it looked to those following me online that I unknowingly took a wrong turn and had veered off course. It not only provided us with some laughs, but also made me aware that there were many people across the country who were following my progress in real time. I just hope they didn’t spend too much time watching the virtual Jamie Summerlin move slowly across the map on their computer screens when they should have been working!

  Tiffany’s dad worked with Carrie Boothe, the public affairs officer at the VA hospital, to coordinate our visit. As we entered the entrance to the campus we were greeted by a policeman who was also a veteran of the Marine Corps. It felt great to hear him say how proud he was of us for undertaking this journey and raising funds for veteran-focused organizations. “I know your visit here is going to be so uplifting to the patients,” he said.

  The officer got in his police cruiser to lead my escort to the hospital entrance, and I was followed by my family in the RV. As I wound through the campus and made the turn leading to the front of the hospital, the scene I witnessed was simply overwhelming. Along the roadway, standing on the sidewalk and sitting on the lawn, were about 100 staff and patients, cheering and clapping for me and holding up signs that they had made to greet me. I caught a glimpse of several American flags that were waving in the air, including one extremely large flag flapping atop a flag pole, and I saluted each one.

  It was difficult for me
to look too closely at the faces in the crowd because I had tears welling up in my eyes and I was trying to retain my composure. The primary purpose of this journey was to honor and say thanks to the brave men and women that I considered my heroes, yet there they were lined up and giving me applause. It was a very humbling and emotional experience. As we got to the end of the parking lot, just past the hospital buildings, the police officer climbed out of his car, walked up to me with a huge smile on his face and as tears streamed down my cheeks he said with a chuckle, “Suck it up, Marine.”

  Tiffany and I were the only ones from my family who received clearance to enter the hospital, so after I took a moment to compose myself we joined Carrie and she escorted us through the corridors and into a meeting room, where I would be speaking to patients and staff. As soon as the room became visible, I saw the patients—a group diverse in both age and ethnicity—sitting in plastic chairs that formed a semi-circle in the middle of the room. But when I walked into the room, the patients and staff all got out of their chairs and gave me a standing ovation. So much for composing myself! I tried not to break down in front of everyone, but it was difficult not to since I was so humbled that these veterans were displaying appreciation toward me when it should have been the other way around.

  I opened up my talk with one statement that I stuck to during this journey—one that I emphatically shared with people I met along the way and news outlets that interviewed me. As my eyes scanned the room, looking at these injured veterans, I told them, “This run is about you.” In front of me were men and women who had honorably served our country and had sacrificed in so many different ways. Each of these men and women had their own personal stories and experiences that they could share. While each experience is unique, we could all understand and relate to what the veterans in the hospital had, were and would continue to endure. Many in the room had been scarred both physically and mentally, had dealt with the different challenges we face in the military lifestyle and had been forced to learn how to cope with the hand they had been dealt. I told them that I had been very fortunate to exit the military with both my physical and mental capacities intact. They laughed, though, when I tried to convince them that someone running nearly 3,500 miles across the country in 100 days was not crazy.