Behind every Warrior is a Warrior

"Hey Mike, got a question...isn't Victory 400 about our Warriors?  Our Wounded Warriors?"  It sure is.  For folks who are not spun up on the military way of life let me share a little somin' somin'.  Behind every Warrior is another Warrior:  the women and men who love us.  Mom, dad, boyfriend, girlfriend, cousin, wife, husband...insert anything you'd like.  When I met Mrs. Odums and Mrs. Preddy (Burk's mom) I was amazed at their strength.  Their strong presence.  Their ability to keep it together.  Unlike me, I'm not affraid to let my emotions show.  Let the tears roll, it is who I am.  Nothing much I can do to change it.  Our loved ones endure so much hardship while we are away.  Take care of kids, dinner, school, bills, car repairs, holiday's alone, home repairs, house cleaning..did I forget to mention work full-time as well?  They don't ask for help, rely on friends and family at times and never tell you when someting is wrong for fear that you will get distracted and not focus.  Our families know that we worry enough...we worry about our Soldiers.  Which brings me to a story that an old salty dog NCO told me back in the early 90's.  Oh boy, do I have stories about these old salty dog NCO's.  Gosh do I have some good memories from these guys but that's another story.  Well, we got alerted for Rwanda.  Lock down.  Telephones unplugged.  No communication with the outside world.  I arrived at the unit only to be told pack an extra set of BDU's and all the water and ammo you could put in your ruck.  As we sat around waiting to go wheels up (we never went in) I got to talking to these old salty NCO's.  I told them how Angelina was crying pretty hard as I drove away from our apartment that early, early morning.  One of the NCO's said "Mike, the first time you get alerted, the wife follows you outside crying, the second time you get alerted they walk you to the door crying and the third time you get alerted they wave goodbye from the couch".  Those boys were right about EVERYTHING except this one.  Angelina always walked as far as see could until someone in uniform told her to stop.  The above picture is Angelina holding our seven month old Sierra watching me walk out the door and load the bus to the big dance:  Iraq, March 7, 2004.  Angelina always cried and always walked as far as she could.  Tomorrow's 38 miles is for you, the military spouse, the loved one waiting, the mom and dad..the family member that keeps the ship right so we can focus.  You are our domestic Warriors.  As for tomorrow, I am going to keep running until someone tells ME I can't go any farther.