The Best Military Running Scene in Hollywood Movies

 While running to prepare for an upcoming half-marathon, my mind drifted to running moments in Hollywood movies.  The usual suspects such as Rocky running up the stairs in Philadelphia or the opening sequence to Chariots of Fire where a band of runners race across a beach to some iconic music came to mind, but then I remembered a gem from my childhood, a James Garner movie called Tank. 

  In “Tank,” James Garner plays Command Sergeant Major (CSM) Zack Carey, and amazingly, I like his portrayal of a tough senior enlisted person.  He goes around the post, checking on troops and facilities within his division and there are some funny moments.  But the piece that takes the cake is when James Garner’s character wakes up at 4:30 in the morning and you next see him approaching a unit’s parade field while in physical training gear (back then, that outfit was unofficially called “the banana suit” due to its almost completely yellow color. 

  CSM Carey then proceeds to shout “Your division sergeant major is all alone on the battalion field.”

  And it’s after this moment, hundreds of Soldiers pour out of the barracks and from the parking lot, rush towards the assembly area, briefly do a dress-right-dress, and stand diligently in formation before CSM Carey.  The battalion’s Sergeant Major greets James Garner’s character, and all together, proceed onwards for a formation run.  A few seconds later, the formation runs by the commanding general’s house and wakes him up.  

See the Sequence here (watch for about 90 seconds)

  It’s this sequence that I absolutely love, and wish any of the Sergeants Major (yes, that is the plural of the singular noun “sergeant major”) who I have served with would replicate this phenomenon.  I’ve never seen anything close to this happening.  Instead, we normally got something to this effect:

  A battalion run would be scheduled for 0630.  The company commander or first sergeant would want the Soldiers to be in formation by 0615.  The platoon sergeant would dictate that his/her group of Soldiers show up at 0600 or 0610 (if they had some faith in their Joes).  The squad leaders in turn would tell their Soldiers to be ready to go 10-15 minutes prior to the platoon formation.

 In fact, I still remember a brigade formation run when I was at Fort Meade, and the brigade run was scheduled to start just after 0630.  By the time I, as a mere squad leader, got word on when to have my team there, we were told to be on the parade field by 0530.  That’s a whole hour before we were supposed to run.  Fortunately, that example is the most extreme one I have experienced.

 While the point is that we in the military had a tendency to have people show up early for just about anything, if someone pulled off a CSM Carey for a PT run, everyone involved would probably go bonkers in a good way and they would probably be pumped to do just about anything for the rest of the week.  I know I would.

Injury Time

  I have a shoulder injury.  It’s from a rather silly incident: throwing a ball for my dog.  And since I’m no longer in the military, getting injuries looked at isn’t the same as being in the Army.  I should say that I’m rather fortunate that even though we run with some movement to our shoulders and we (are supposed to) swing our arms while moving forward, the pain in my shoulder doesn’t manifest itself during a run.

  So, whenever I had an injury in the Army, I usually got treated immediately, or more often, go to “sick call” the next morning.  For those who don’t know, sick call is when servicemembers go to get checked out by medical personnel, usually around 6 in the morning.   And more likely, a supervisor or higher-ranking person will tell an injured but reluctant patient to go to sick call.  Problems and ailments can range from ankle sprains all the way to colds, fevers, and the flu.  And once a physician’s assistant or a doctor sees you, you get something called a profile.  A profile says what the service member can or cannot do and for how long.  These profiles are followed and adhered to very strictly, lest someone gets in trouble.  I used to hate getting a profile that restricted my running, but the doc’s word is final.

  When I injured my shoulder, I didn’t call my civilian doctor, mostly because I’ve been leery about learning how healthcare from off-post medical professionals happened.  But after a couple of weeks, I went to the acute care clinic on base.  Yes, I couldn’t avoid getting seen by the military; it was within my comfort zone and they don’t turn people away unless it’s something they cannot handle or the issue is very, very trivial.  

  So, the doctor on duty checked out my shoulder, asked several questions, and prescribed me to physical therapy.  A few days later, I talked with the physical therapist, and while talking about my shoulder, I told him that it was amazing that I could still run with no issues.  Of course, I also told him that I can run and keep my right arm and shoulder pretty much still since I do run with a GoPro in my hand.  I’ve done two races so far with this shoulder injury and the only time it hurt was when I reached for a tree branch.  That pain was terrible, by the way.  

  Even though the shoulder isn’t currently a problem while running, it is a problem to get me out there to run.  I do wake up with some very bad pain some days, and it’s enough to knock me off my rhythm and routine for something I like to do. 

 

Volunteering and "Volunteering": Civilian Running Events versus Military Running Formations

  The other week, I volunteered for the South Carolina Governor’s Cup race.  This is the second time this year I’ve volunteered to help out for a racing event, but it got me thinking about the differences between a military organized run and a civilian racing event.  

  With both, there’s a lot of coordination across multiple entities.  You have to get with the local law enforcement and road officials to ensure the proper routes are closed off to traffic.  If there is a major intersection anywhere along the course, both events need to have someone with authority out there to direct traffic during the lengthy gaps of runners.  Both events also require a lot of work at the start/finish areas and that includes having people telling the participants where to go, where they can’t stand, and to help corral people to the correct designated areas.  

  Of course, the biggest difference between the two is I have never seen a water station on a military route, but I covered that in an earlier post.  

  For the Governor Cup Race, I helped out at the awards table.  It was our responsibility to get the plaques and top three finisher’s prizes prepped and ready for presentation.  We took care of the 5k awards, the half marathon prizes, and two different sets of medals for “triple crown” participants and the state’s prestigious runners’ club. 

  It was quite a task to set up the medals, plaques, and finisher coasters in a particular order and just like the military, not everything goes according to plan. No matter how much planning, prepping, and rehearsing you do, sometimes you just have to adapt, improvise, and overcome.  I say this because while we had all the awards separated by race and in age order, the award announcements alternated between the youngest and oldest categories and worked towards the middle.  And then there was the weird static electric issue with the plaques.  While we had no issues pulling the plaques from the 5k awards, the half marathon plaques wanted to stick to the bubble wrap that encased them in their respective boxes.  That made for a slow down in presenting the awards and there was at least one woman who insisted on telling a few of my fellow volunteers on how to get the awards ready for the next set of runners.

  But the overall experience was a positive one, and unlike the military, I wasn’t told that I had to volunteer to help out with the event.  I also received more of an appreciation for those who volunteer to help organize, run, and help out with the running races. 

No Water For Formation Runs But You Need It For A Race

  I recently ran in a 5k race in Greenville, South Carolina, and I noticed something out of the ordinary out there.  They had no water stations along the route and those who participated did not have water readily available at the finish line. We had to walk a little bit to the refreshment tables to get our water.  This got me thinking about how I never needed water while running with my Soldiers, but when in a race, I almost always seek out the water stations.

  One of my more memorable moments in the military are the formation runs.  For those who don’t know, a formation run is when a unit runs together, usually in a rectangular shape with three to four people in the front and everyone falling in behind them.  A unit formation run can be as small as a squad run with only four to twelve people, all behind one person and as big as division with hundreds of rectangles comprising thousands of people if the commander wishes.  But usually, a formation run will range from a platoon (about 30 people) to a battalion (between 300 to 800 people).  Each rectangle gets a cadence caller, a singer if you will, who is charge of keeping everyone in step so no one trips over another person’s feet.  I could go on about some of the songs used for cadences, but that can be for another day.

  These formation runs are intentionally slow, too, at least by military standards.  Most people like to keep them at basically a ten minute per mile pace, though I have run in some that went at a nine minute per mile pace, and then there were the rare seven minute a mile pace runs.  These formation runs can usually go for at least 45 minutes, though I remember a brigade run taking over an hour to do. 

  There’s no water along the route for a formation run, either.  Instead, you’re expected to be already fully hydrated, drink some water before the run, and have water readily available once you’re dismissed from the formation run.  I always kept a container of water in my car on days like those.  Because the pace was so slow compared to how fast we were supposed to run as individuals, you can say I was accustomed to not having water during a run.  Even with the Army Physical Fitness Test (APFT), while we ran as fast as we could for two miles, there was no water on the course; only after you were done. 

  Now, when I participate in a 5k race, I’m not running at six miles per hour (the ten minute a mile pace), so I’m going to need some sort of liquid out along the course.  And while I could go without water the entire race, I know there is always someone out there who is participating in the race for the first time, underprepared for the race, or have the weather (heat, humidity, glaring sunlight) severely affect them.  This past weekend in Greenville, I was actually thirsty along the course while running the Zoom Through the Zoo 5k.  I did drink plenty of water the night before and I had several cups up to two hours prior to the race, but for some reason, I still craved liquid refreshment while running.  Before I hit some discouraging hills about two miles in, I was working an eight-minute mile pace, which is a little faster than I have been doing, so on the positive side, I’m slowly getting back to my old self.  Then I started to run out of steam, figuratively, because I needed to cool off with some water, yet none was nearby.  If I was feeling this way, how did the people I passed at the beginning of the race feel?  And I wasn’t the only one seeking out water after the race, either; another runner asked me where I got my water bottle from when I walked back to the finish line.  This particular race was the first time I’ve ever run a 5k race and there were no water stations set up on the course.  

 This is one of those perplexing mysteries to me.  Why do I not need water while in formation, but if I’m running more than two miles in a race, I crave it?  Maybe it’s all the cadence calling and responses of a formation run. Maybe it’s the slower pace.  But whatever the case, I need to keep an eye on it.