Top Five Aviation News Stories in 2009

Dulles Snow Debacle

Reflecting

I remember Feb 03 distinctly -- I was of all things going house hunting and this major "President's Day" snowstorm paralyzed the Eastern Seaboard for days that no one was going anywhere. The Pentagon loved the fact that I was living in the Metropolitan apartments in Pentagon City -- and was the dude that could always come in.

We had not had any major snow storms for years since -- in 2007, we had virtually none. Most years we would have two significant snowfalls (more than 3 inches) and a couple times with just flakes that appear so soft and delicate as they fall, some stick, some just disintegrate.

That's why the Blizzard of 09 completely caught me off guard.

I had agreed over a week ago to take my friend to Dulles, so she could fly to Colombia. "Sure thing," I said. "I'd be glad to."

Little did I know that this seemingly easy trip to Dulles would turn into a 20-hour historic Christmas exodus ordeal.

Understanding

Her flight was scheduled to leave at 3:30 PM on Avianca to Bogota, Colombia. By mid-morning, I knew that this flight would not take off today.

Speaking with my friend on the phone, I told her that I would be glad to take her to the airport, however, I don't suggest going today but recommended going first thing in the morning instead.

However, Avianca instructed us that the flight was scheduled to leave on time, and if we didn't show up at the airport, my friend would miss her flight and she would not be rebooked.

We looked out the window and was shocked to see the snow coming down like golf balls in an overcrowded driving range, some being thrown as hard as a Nolan Ryan fastball.

Thankfully I had a Subaru Baja AWD, and I knew my car could handle well in the snow. It was a risk, but I felt we could handle this.

Negotiating

I asked my friend to keep on calling both Avianca and the Washington Metropolitan Airport Authority to see if we could get an update in the next few minutes. A cancellation would be good news because we would avoid having to make the dreaded 27-mile trip to Dulles until perhaps tomorrow morning.

Meanwhile, I headed outside to prep the vehicle. My Subaru was almost completely snowed in and it took me a good, intense 30 minutes just to pry myself out.

After I picked my friend up in Anacostia, we crawled down South Capitol St and entered cautiously a snow-ruined highway. We were aghast turning as white as the puffy elements that blanketed the isolated freeway -- nothing much had been cleared -- this was no man's land and the chances of us making to Dulles on time or even at all had suddenly come into serious question.

Over the 14th Street Bridge, we tried to take a shortcut via the GW Parkway. But there were too many skidding vehicles at the exit ramp -- the whole scene resembled a stock car derby at a muddy racetrack. We slowed to ask if everything was alright -- no it didn't seem so -- the people there were all in a trance. We decided to continue on 395 South instead -- the longer, but more surer route.

Despite the harsh conditions, I wasn't feeling all that stressed. Actually the constant rain of flow of tender chunks of snow felt calming, warming and in many ways, carthartic.

Within several miles, the traffic completely came to a slow, painful, dreadful crawl. Apparently a semi had gotten stuck several miles ahead and everyone behind him was paying the price of slowly chugging along, feeling the intense cold wind and keeping our eyes peeled as the visibility had plummeted -- even the car several feet ahead of us seemed like a distant blur.

I used this downtime to check my Iphone. I searched Twitter to see what people were saying about delays. "No flights are leaving Dulles," stated a post -- I appreciated the real time information from desperate travelers like us. Wouldn't it be nice if some innovative traveler on Avianca could tweet their latest info and broadcast the obvious.

Thankfully, we managed to peel ourselves from the virtual parking lot and before long, we had made it to 495 North, heading to Tyson's Corner.

That's when my friend called Avianca once more. This time, Avianca informed her that the flight had actually departed and that she would have to pay a penalty of over $1,oo0 to rebook for a flight that leaves Dulles the day after Christmas.

She was almost in tears...

I was livid. First I was feeling remorseful since it appeared that my friend would not be able to spend Christmas with her family -- the family that she had not seen in a few years.

Then I was in an utter state of shock. I glanced over to my friend who instructed me to radically alter course and set a Bee line for home. At this point, there was no point in even showing up at Dulles, despite the fact that we were only 15 minutes away.

As I continued driving north towards Bethesda, I started questioning the status and motive provided by Avianca. With the constant gush of snow and blizzard winds gusting to 40 MPH, it was physically impossible for the plane to depart.
Then I started questioning the motive once more -- perhaps Avianca knew the real status of the flight but decided to withhold it from their customers , in hopes of gouging them for more money. After all, how would their customers know whether a flight did depart on time at all.

In no time, we were approaching Exit 45 towards the airport. But my friend instructed me to head back -- for a moment she had given up hope -- all hope of seeing her family this Christmas.

The drive towards Bethesda and down Connecticut towards Adams Morgan went rather smoothly, albeit painfully. The snow continued to come down fast and furious and it was now starting to get dark, making matters a lot worse.



It was then that I decided to call the Washington Metropolitan Airport Authorities to see if they could give us an update on our flight. We were amazed and overjoyed to hear that the flight was still on the tarmac, regardless of what Avianca had said.

The flight was now delayed to 6:30 PM. We could still make it to the airport, but we would have to start from scratch since we were already back home in DC.

The second time around was rather interesting -- the storm was even more intense and there were times when we hit a patch of snow, we started to drift only to have my rear wheels gain traction and stop us from fishtailing (Thank God for AWD -- All Wheel Drive).

After making a few wrong turns and driving methodically down the Dulles Tollroad, we were finally at the airport by 7:30 PM, after navigating the roads for over five hours -- we were dead tired, our bodies as rigid as the snowed turned ice that piled up like dwift wood on both sides of the highway.

My friend tried to check in at Avianca, while I went to park at the garage. Unfortunately, the counter was closed and so were the checkpoints. Even the departure listings did not mention the Avianca Bogota flight. There was a complete dearth of information -- we felt we were lost in a foreign country with no directions or currency. Luckily my friend ran into some Colombians who happened to be on her flight. They informed her that they were told by Avianca to be at the counter by 5:00 AM the next day. We were relieved and for once, we we were set free.

With this information, we settled in at Harry's Tap Room and were fortunate to be the very last customers before they closed. All they had was chicken tenders, fries and soup -- and at this rate, it tasted like we were being rewarded with a five-course meal. Plus the Harry's ale was nice and was exactly what the Doctor ordered on this long, cold night.

It was now 10:00 pm, and we had several hours to kill before showtime at the counter. Walking around the airport was depressing -- people were spread out everywhere. Lying listlessly on the floor, every corner, every seat accounted for. Even the shoe shine chair was been used for someone to take a nap, while his iMac sat delicately on his lap.

Plus it was bright, loud and absolutely zero privacy. I peered inside the USO and it was crowded with Soldiers and Marines -- many heading to Afghanistan -- resembled the tight, canned berthing on an LST (Landing Ship Tank)

We were fortunate to make our way to the Subaru which was as cold as a huge block of ice in an New England fish market, but the garage offered the quietude and solitude not found anywhere inside the terminal. For a moment we were alone and images of the snow-strewn highway were now distant and slipping.

The next morning we were up at 3:30 AM. Our faces were beet red and our noses were as cold and bright as Rudolph's.

It was a special day: "Feliz Cumpleanos!," I said. She smiled at the irony of spending the first part of her Birthday in the car. "Thanks, I almost forgot," she said. It could only get better from here, she insisted -- this was her day--may her biggest wish come true.

We were the first ones at the counter. Around us, a sea of people, some sleeping, many in a daze. And after much push-back, haggling and negotiation, Avianca manifested my friend on the first flight leaving Dulles. They pushed back heavily at first, saying that the manifest was already sent to Colombia. But we didn't buy that story. We along with a few others told our compelling story and finally convinced Avianca to allow my friend to board the first flight (her original plane) rather than wait for the second one.

Inspiring

As I waited and watched my friend negotiate with the managers, I noticed someone in the corner of my eye -- someone I didnt know, but someone I recognized on the cover of a magazine. As I always do, in moments like these, I walked up and said. "Aren't you runners? Weren't you on Runners World?" Yes indeed, it was Matt and Adriana who two years ago graced the covers of Runners World.


It was great to meet them in person. I knew and remembered them, I felt that I knew them as friends. Matt told me that they were heading to Colombia to work on support a project for their High Cloud non profit organization. I thought their work had a great vision and was very inspiring -- what a great timing to see them and coincidentally on the same plane as my friend.

It was at this time that I knew that everything would be ok.
In a way, Matt and Adriana were like angels bringing good tidings in a time of distress and hopelessness.

Navigating

After we got the boarding pass, we informed the airlines that they were irresponsible in holding onto the flight despite knowing the severity of the weather and the slim chances of the snowfall clearing.

They could have made things easier and put less people at risk if they had simply canceled the flight first thing in the morning -- it was a lesson learned indeed, one starting with the patronization of Avianca (never again) and a complete reaffirmation of the RUNIN model: to Reflect, Understand, Negotiate, Innovate and Navigate -- tackling this very huge snow problem and ensuing massive delays.

The key was that we were persistent realists who complied with Avianca's erroneous call. However, we did our own research and called their bluff.

Meanwhile we know that United, Delta and all the big carriers had canceled their flights in the morning and often times automatically rebooked their passengers -- this is the right way of treating your customers, even if it affects their revenue -- safety is paramount and the right thing to do.

Later that day, when I was driving back, I stopped by the Capitol. The Snow had blanketed the Mall creating a terrain that was foreign but beautiful. I tried to dive in it, splash around in it, run in it -- but the layer was too deep, I wouldn't make any traction -- it was like ocean foam on a giant wave without the surf.

Quietly, I surrendered to the safe confines of my vehicle, glad that my friend had boarded the plane, glad that we had made it back safely and smarter knowing that the next decision would only be made with more experience, more rounded and thus more wiser.

* Photo from Loudon Times

As Christmas Nears, Georgetown Appears

Reflecting

Today I worshipped the gravel grounds--the routine run from the Wall to WW II to the Wash Monument -- the same rugged trails that I had hit a million times or more since I discovered running as my calling, my ancient ritual.

Understanding

For some mysterious reason, I decided to break away. Not to the ubiquitous Capitol and back today. Made my way along the Potomac, under the Memorial Bridge--Boom, Bada Bing, Bada Boom -- the rhythmic sound of traffic rolling overhead and passing JFK until DC's oldest city was within sight and reach.

Negotiating

Ran along the Georgetown waterfront, watching the locals and tourists strolling along with nothing particular in their minds that day, or enjoying a meal or sipping a margarita in the many open bars and restaurants thinking beautiful thoughts, I'm sure.

Then across the C & O Canal and up the red-brick hill, steep and sudden ushering in old Georgetown with all its high-end shops and restaurants galore. The sweet herb garden smell of something tasty emanating from a nearby Italian kitchen -- all the motivation in the world to make me stop and taste the fettucini. Thankfully I had no money, so I told myself that I had no choice but to push on.

Inspiring

The run was eloquent and eye opening. Ran past the eyes of the world, our venerable embassies: Mongolia, Venezuela; then past historic homes and mansions: Old Stone Cottage before I merged onto Pennsylvania Avenue to George Washington University and Foggy Bottom. From there, I stayed on Penn, passing the World Bank and IMF before I entered Lafayette Square next to the White House.

Navigating

Today was indeed a glorious day -- A day to profoundly wonder my mission in life and my vision for life's future. As I start preparing for the busy Holiday season, I'm glad I took time out to enjoy life's simple pleasures. I'm glad I decided to break away -- be free and roam a part of this town I rarely venture but hope to eventually get to know.

Honoring my New Lease on Life

"Then with these parting words, we stood up to say goodbye and to give each other a big hug to reassure one another that accidents do happen and that life is the most precious gift of all."

Reflecting

Today is my anniversary on a new lease on life. This is not a lease that you just sign arbitrarily with some random landlord so that you can have a place to rest. This is a lease that allows you to breathe, embrace and live another day so that we can make a valuable impact to those who are around us.

Three years ago today, I was involved in a shocking and traumatic head-on collision in the middle of the highly-travelled Rock Creek Parkway.

It was a bizarre accident, something that just didn't seem right -- something I can never explain, something I would never want to relive again, but glad anyhow to live another day.

Understanding

Where did I go?

I was just leaving Cilantro in Georgetown -- one of my friends from the Pentagon had turned 30 and was throwing a big bash. I was happy for her -- she had leased the entire top floor of the boutique restaurant, and there would be well over 200 guests, nearly 50 of them I already knew.

Could have been Avoided

The uncanny part of this whole ordeal was that I was not even supposed to be there that evening. No, I didn't have anything else planned. The truth is, I was not even invited to my friend's party at all. But after word got out from my friends and co-workers that she was throwing a party, I gave my birthday friend a polite call and asked her why I wasn't on her list.

She quickly replied that it was an oversight, apologized dearly and immediately shot out an evite.

Why I had the audacity to mention this to her, I'll never find out. But I am deeply glad to be able to live another day with the realization that perhaps some things are better left unsaid, some things are better left alone.

Negotiating

Good Decision; My Lucky Night

So with so many friends, acquaintances and friends of friends socializing and of course, networking, I was truly in my elements. And the thought crossed my mind many times -- I thought about grabbing a beer or a cocktail. The moment was festive, and I was definitely in the mood. But for some unexplained reason, my inner instincts got the best of me, and I decided strongly against it.

Before long, I started getting tired and felt the urge to go home-- another mystery, since it was only 10:00 PM.

So, after bidding adieu, I set off on my trusty Ford Ranger pickup truck towards the heart of the city.

Wrong Way Short Cut

Instead of driving towards Washington Circle and towards Foggy Bottom, I had decided to take a shortcut towards the Mall and Independence Avenue.

Instinctively, I had turned down the ramp towards the Parkway, oblivious to the fact that as soon as I entered the Parkway, I would come face to face with a massive wave of oncoming traffic.

These drivers had just come over the bridge from Virginia, and they had not yet slowed down for the more modest DC speed limits. For them it was the Rock Creek 500.

My Brush with Death

It was too late -- my life flashed in front of me. The oncoming traffic slowed to a ghastly crawl, it seemed, but it was truly just my imagination because like charging Roman gladiators they were flank to flank and heading flank speed towards me.

There was nothing I could do, except slow down and prayed that the traffic would completely miss me.

The car that hit me was an SUV. I remember seeing their tense faces, their strange look in their eyes inquiring why I was going the wrong way.

It appeared to be two stocky men -- who immediately egressed. Whew -- a good sign that they seemed physically unhurt.

Surprisingly, one of the men, I believe the passenger, immediately came over to ask for a light. I was still shaken and sort of in a daze, but without hesitation, I turned around to search the back seat for a flashlight, trying to make sense of things that had just been twisted and turned around.

"No, a cigarette light," he snapped.

I was disappointed that I didn't have a light to give him, but found it amazing that his mind was not in a state of shock like mine. A cigarette seconds after a violent head-on collision would not normally be something I would have in mind, but in this minute of confusion and turmoil, it only seemed logical to want a smoke.

His nerves was probably wrecked, the car body was totaled, but his body it appeared, would be just fine.

Inspiring

The blunt, beat-up image and optics of the two vehicles with the hood and grill smashed mercilessly was ghastly terrifying especially for the oncoming traffic that came to an abrupt standstill that winter night.

It was a miracle that everyone survived -- it's a miracle that no one was hurt.

The cops were the first ones on the scene. As expected, they were hot on my case, interrogating me over and over again whether I had anything to drink. Of course, they would not take my word and put me through a rather intense series of tests to check my sobriety and mental capacity.

After I was given a strong thumbs up and had finished giving the police report, we simply had to just sit painfully and wait patiently. I said a quick prayer of thanks and whispered a meaningful prayer for the other two men -- total strangers, but strangers whom I came too close to know. That's when I reached over and noticed my blackberry holstered to my belt.

I knew I had to notify friends and colleagues, so I fired off a quick email to my friend at work who was also at the birthday party...

JD,

How are you. You wouldn't believe what happened.

I was leaving Cilantro's and got into a head-on
collision on Rock Creek Parkway.
I will explain more tomorrow.

Thank God, I am fine and so is the other party.

Take Care,
Chito

It took over an hour for the police and paramedics to clear us. The only injury I sustained was a rib injury from the inertia I experienced that threw me against the steering wheel. Luckily, the seat belt kept me from going through the windshield.

All Alone

I wanted to just go home, but nobody was around to pick me up.

The other vehicle had their girlfriends come to check on them. I was happy for them that they had company, and I felt sad that I was all alone. During this trying moment, I wanted nothing more than comfort and a hug from a loved one to tell me that it's going to be ok. So I sat there just watching -- their friends terrified at first, but now ecstatic to see that they were not hurt.

Then the cathartic moment came when all of a sudden the driver left his party and approached me.

"You're going to be ok?"

"I'm just fine. How 'bout you."

"We're going to make it; I wish you the best of luck."

Then with these parting words, we stood up to say goodbye and to give each other a big hug to reassure one another that accidents do happen and that life is the most precious gift of all.

Navigation

The Long, Painful Ride Home

Once everyone had embraced each other and started heading home, I hopped a ride to the metro with the tow truck, caught a train to the nearest metro station to my home, then a bus which took me minutes to my doorstep.

It was a long ride for a long night, and by the time I entered my doorway, my body felt so beat up that I just wanted to lay on my bed and cry.

I would not get much sleep that night. I kept on tossing and thinking how it could have ended up -- either me in the morgue, in the hospital, or in the slammer.

Sometime that night I finally dozed off and slipped into a silent soliloquy that took me to another world away.

The next morning I awoke feeling more rested, but still groggy and with a thumping head ache that wouldn't go away. I was still in disbelief about what happened -- many times I looked out my window hoping to see my truck parked neatly in the driveway.

After a hot shower and a warm breakfast, I felt dramatically better. Still my ribs were tender and in nagging pain, but I wanted to head out and get some fresh air.

The Celebration

Earlier in the week, Rajika had invited me to celebrate the 5th birthday of the Asian elephant calf, Kandula at the Smithsonian National Zoo. There's no reason why I couldn't celebrate Kandula's birthday. I was glad to be alive and I could celebrate another day of life in the Zoo.

So I caught a bus to see Rajika-- it seemed today was just any ordinary day, being thankful to be alive, and thankful that I could live to tell my story.

Moral of the story:

1) Some things are better left unsaid -- I shouldn't have called my friend who forgot to invite me. Perhaps there was a reason why she forgot. God had a reason for me not to be there. And when I foolishly intervened, he was gracious enough to save my life.

2) There was also another reason not to drink anything that night -- seemed counterintuitive -- but not everything in life has to make sense or has to be done a certain way, just because it's expected or everyone else is doing it. You are you and only you can do what's best for you.

This time I sensed the specifics and wisely listened to my inner voice -- Immaculate and Almighty, God was talking to me, and because I stubbornly but unconditionally listened, I'm able to share these life-changing lessons today.

"RUNIN and slow down to smell the Glories."

Back on My Feet Inaugural Reception

I had the pleasure to meet Anne Mahlum, Lauren Williams, Autumn Campbell and the wonderful staff during the Back on My Feet inaugural social at the Union Pub.

I am impressed with the wonderful features of this inspirational and purposeful program that encourages everyone to run together and bond together, regardless of race, education or socioeconomic status.

Friends Forever Coz the Welcome Never Ends

Today, my friend from work, Rhett, drove me to Dewitt Army Hospital located in beautiful and scenic, Ft Belvoir. I've never been to Dewitt, and I've never had a colonoscopy.

That's right a colonoscopy at 42. But why at this age when the American Cancer Society does not recommend getting screened until you're 50 -- because my GI physician recommended I get one and I listen to doctor's advice.

COL B was energetic and in a great mood -- which was exactly the right medicine I needed from my surgeon. About this time, I was missing my coffee and even going under the camera did not rattle my nerves. I remember talking with him about the procedure or was it about pro sports . The next moment, I was injected with two tubes of med, and then without a shudder, I was sound asleep.

The procedure went well, virtually no pain, just discomfort and a lot of prodding around my belly. But I was completely knocked out on general anesthesia, and I didn't feel any pain.

The next thing I know, I wake up in the waiting room. It was over, and within minutes, Rhett came back to said 'Hi." What a great friend who waited patiently all morning -- an officer, a gentleman and a true humanitarian.

And so now I was heading home. The worst part was the prep -- submitting myself to a 24 hour fast and drinking all the colyte I could possibly ingest at 10 minute intervals to clean out my system and to remember to stay very close to the bathroom all night long.

The effects of colyte is explosive and immediate. However, I had to attend a meeting that evening, and I'm sure my friends did not appreciate my frequent trips to the restroom.

Colyte is disgusting and dreadful, but it could save lives, and it was worth every single drop.

Today, I also heard from a dear friend via Facebook (FB has a unique way to bring back old friends -- when everyone old suddenly becomes new again ). I have not seen or spoken to her for almost 25 years. Didn't know if it would be another 25 more years.

I was thrilled, until she told me that she was battling cancer -- that's when my jaw dropped, my heart sank. I thought about the colonoscopy I had earlier and how much medicine had advanced and why I'm holding up hope.

I remember the laughs the hugs the teasing the chats. I remember how she had embraced me and how she had become my family's first friends when we came over from afar.

Jan 2007 blog about immigrating to the US

I like her beautiful smile and winning attitude. She will defeat it -- she will WIN -- my new, rediscovered friend on Facebook.

"Because friends are friends forever and the

welcome will not end."

Miracles do happen on Facebook, Miracles do happen in God's book of Life.

Play the clip:

Gourmet Dinner

Today is Kanita's 27th birthday. Check out the gourmet meal (Surf and Turf) that Wendy prepared for her. The sirloin steak with gravy, shrimp and asparagus was out of this world. This was by far the best meal I've ever eaten at home.

Food Poisoning at Fiesta DC

Reflection:

I have never been to Fiesta DC. Never had a chance to personally enjoy the family-focused festivities of this homegrown Latino festival in the charming and historic neighborhood where Columbia Heights and Mount Pleasant merge.

Columbia Heights, used to be the place to live. It was in the early part of the 20th century, when this area was one of the most fashionable and desirable places to live in the city. The opulent and world-renowned Tivoli Theater was built in 1924 there and this vibrant community was adjacent to the thriving black communities of Shaw and U Street. But as fate would have it, like the majority of the city along 14th Street and U, the neighborhood and storefronts were ravaged during the 1968 riots after the assassination of Martin Luther King. Many of the stores stayed vacant for decades and Columbia Heights lost its twinkle and luster. Now we fast forward to today..

Mount Pleasant is an idyllic cultural center located in the heart of the Adams Morgan, Columbia Heights historic triangle. It has quaint residential streets filled mostly with the middle class and many immigrant families from El Salvador.

In 1991, this Hispanic community experienced the worst riot since 1968 when a Salvadorean man was shot and killed by a police officer who allegedly came at her with a knife.

The aftermath of this event was massive rioting for three nights leading to hundreds of injuries and arrests.

Read about my previous run through Adams Morgan and Mount Pleasant

Understanding:

Every time I walk by the historic sign at Mount Pleasant that locates the center of the riot, I think about how the massive violence had erupted due mostly to misunderstanding, miscommunication and mistakes. In life, it is critical that we try to understand other people, realize the cause of their anger and the need to vent that anger, someway, somehow -- hopefully without causing too much harm and damage.

Negotiating:

Well I had a great time watching the Flamenco dancing and feeling the hot rhythm of salsa roll right through me. People seemed to be enjoying themselves and enjoying the great vibe and festive atmosphere that has become the trademark of this popular Latino community.

I was feeling great, too until I got something to eat...

It was around 4:30 PM, when the vendors were starting to wrap things up. I saw a sign for chicken sandwich, chips and a drink for $4.00 -- this particular vendor was motivated to sell out and close shop for the day.

Normally, I am more selective and usually go for something that I can see cooked in front of me. But filming and interviewing, I was in a bit of rush.  I would grab something and go.

I agreed to buy the sandwich and was surprised when they handed me a chicken salad sandwich instead of a chicken breast patty sandwich.

Still, I was busy taking pictures and enjoying the festival, so I scoffed down the sandwich, not even thinking twice -- the grim truth is that I wished I had thought long and hard about it and the risk of eating anything made with mayonnaise sold by a vendor that was not a licensed restaurant, perhaps not even a licensed vendor.

It hit me almost right away -- feeling queasy from the chicken and mayo. A headache ensued..something just wasn't right.  Still I pushed on and enjoyed the rest of the afternoon.

But by 7:00 PM, I was home and downtrodden.  The discomfort, the pain exacerbated.

It started with stomach cramps, then nausea, then vomiting and it continued through the night until the cramps picked up a notch and I started feeling cold spells.

I've had food poisoning before -- the last time earlier this summer when I ate undercooked salmon.

But never in my life had I suffered from food poisoning this severe with symptoms so painful and unbearable, I felt like I had been run over by a truck.   This was the worst abdominal pain I've received since my appendicitis ruptured in 1994.  This happened when I was home, alone, asleep, dangerously close to dying.  Because the appendix had perforated, open surgery had to be performed -- the Lord wanted me to live.

Innovation:

Not knowing what to do and not able to sleep through the pain, I immediately googled my symptoms and also searched some of the treatment on Web MD.

Initial search concluded that I needed to contact the nearest hospital. So I called the VA Medical Center who told me to come in immediately.

So unbearable that at 2:30 AM, I had enough and drove myself slowly and methodically to the Washington Hospital Center.

On the way there, I threw up again -- my 10th time since getting sick. I had become dangerously dehydrated, not keeping anything in, not even plain water.

I parked at the garage just minutes away, but the walk to the ER seemed long and excruciating.  This was more painful than running my half Ironman.

After waiting for nearly two painful hours in the lobby, I was admitted into a room with a voiceforus patient who was rude and obnoxious.

I never got to see his face -- he was behind a green curtain, and he was yelling and screaming about his body parts almost the entire time we shared a room together.

But I could feel his pain. It was disheartening and my first exposure to a civilian ER (Had always visited a military hospital).

When I met the doctor, she ordered a small morphine drip which along with my IV took away the pain and I started feeling dramatically better almost immediately.

Navigation:

Within two hours by 0700, they discharged me. I wanted to stay away a bit longer and get some rest, but they clearly wanted me to go before the next shift.

So tonight was interesting -- Glad it's behind me and glad I learned a good lesson that I swear to make the same mistake again -- just the pain alone is motivation enough.

1. Be careful about what you eat at festivals especially anything prepared with mayonnaise.
2. Be careful if the vendor is trying desperately to get rid of their goods.
3. Be careful if the vendor is not a licensed restaurant or from some trusted organization you are familiar with.
4. Make sure the food has been refrigerated and your chances of getting food poison may be greater later during the day.

Julia's Journey

Julia's Race

Triathlons are full of inspiring stories.

Wendy and Steve Spohn's story is a perfect example of one.

Steve and Wendy’s daughter, Julia, was born on June 9, 2006 in a small hospital in Bamberg, Germany.

One day after Julia was born, Wendy and Steve discovered that Julia had a severe birth defect--she had been born with three heart chambers instead of four.


Both Wendy and Steve were Soldiers in the Army and the entire family was relocated to Washington DC. There, Julia was treated at the Walter Reed Army Medical Center where doctors diagnosed her with Heterotaxy Syndrome.

Since the Spohn's and their one-year-old son, Lukas, had left all their belongings in Germany and had no duty station to call home, they were homeless, until the Ronald McDonald House of Washington DC provided them shelter and food.

“It was a blessing to have a place for our son to take a break from the hospital and just enjoy being a toddler,” Wendy said.

Julia had undergone two major surgeries and was waiting for a liver transplant when sadly, she acquired a hospital-borne infection and passed away at 4 months old.

After Julia’s tragic passing, Wendy and Steve tried several times to have another baby, but each time they miscarried, four times in two years.


During this time of grief and suffering, Wendy was determined to do something challenging and different to pay tribute to the pain her own daughter Julia had endured in her short life.


Wendy decided to embark on an intense physical training program to bring her body fat back under the Army’s requirements and finish a triathlon in honor of her daughter Julia.


Wendy did some research online and discovered that the Nation's Triathlon would be held in DC, on her birthday.

So with only three months till the triathlon, Wendy and her husband Steve embarked in an intensive training program that culminated with their first sprint triathlon last month.


"All the pain that we went through was in honor of her," Wendy declared. “I can gain closure from this experience and be able to move on as we move on to our next duty station."

"We completed this journey together as a family; it means a lot to both of us," Steve Spohn stated with pride.

Anacostia National Waterfront Loop

Shen Yun, So Heavenly, So Divine

Reflecting

The history of China, like it's people, is vast and colorful. So many Dynasties and Emperors were born into this eclectic world. It is no wonder a production such as Shen Yun has come into out lives. It is amazing how no matter what country you go to, religion will always play a major role in its' current affairs.

In 1992 Li Hongzhi founded the Falun Gong system of beliefs. The practice emerged at the end of China's "qigong boom" in the early 1990s as a form of qigong. Falun Gong differs from competing qigong schools through its absence of daily rituals of worship, its greater emphasis on morality, and the purported theological nature of its teachings.

Understanding

This evening I had the tremendous pleasure to watch one of the greatest shows of this century. Yes, indeed the brilliant and inspiring Shen Yun with the silky, flowing costumes and the incredible classical music -- the amazing tunes and tones coming from the xylophone, the trumpet, the tympanis, the pianist -- all blending together like one smooth piece of cloth, held tightly together by an amazing conductor.

Negotiating

Shen Yun is a magnificent and majestic experience, something that can be shared with one and all. The performance explains the principles of truth, compassion and forebearance. I truly believe that when people are in the midst of such a melodic masterpiece, coupled with a meaningful message, the human body body can become healed, in some cases, from our inflictions and diseases. This is what I'm suggesting. This is an option in attaining not only a peace of mind but a healthy state of life.

Inspiring

It was not the music or the costumes that I came to see. I came to hear the message and to learn the themes that so struck me and left a deep impression on my mind and soul that it took my breath away.

I was deeply moved and inspired by the life story of an innocent family that suffers from persecution, but eventually finds peace in heaven.

Each scene had a different message with a broader implications.

Negotiating

Scenes like this was so emotional, touching and uplifting. I left with a better understanding that life is indeed special and that good is definitely rewarded and evil is punished. One day, I hope Shun Yun performs in mainland China -- the people in this great country need to see this -- their lives will be forever changed.

You will be at peace feeling very spirited watching this, trust me.

Watch a 12-second snippet of my interview by Ms. Julianne Xu on NTDTV:

A Hometown Store that Dolls up Love

As I was driving home from my incredible tour of the Luray Caverns, the rain started pouring incessantly and my hunger was chiding me each mile I drove without a rest stop.

Call it good fortune, as I was passing through remote Amissville, a small town about 60 miles from DC, my hunger finally got the best of me and coaxed me to turn my wheel towards a country store that appeared to serve up a good BBQ pulled pork sandwich.

I was struck by the hometown, casual, family-oriented atmosphere of this restaurant that also serves as a nice community-oriented consignment store.

The store was named Dolly's. Their specialty was pizza, wings and homemade sandwiches. Come to find out it was named after two people: Grandma Dolly and Dolly's sister-in-law who was also nicknamed Dolly.

I treated myself to a delicious egg sandwich as well as a roasted turkey sandwich on wheat bread. I stuffed it down to satiate my growling hunger. But my taste buds were calling me to slow down and enjoy the experience.

I was impressed to see Grandma, Mom, daughter, nieces, nephews and in-laws all working together in unison.

They were all calling each other names like "Ma", "Love", "Sweetie" -- I enjoyed watching them all work together, just a family should, but rarely do now a days.

I came at the perfect time. Not only to get out of the rain, but Angelina, Jesse and several others were heading to FEDEX field to watch the Steelers play the Redskins. That's why, I'm sure, they were cooking up a batch of pizza and wings.

Family hard at work, but working closely together as if the family depended on it.

From left to right (the Women in the Family):

Jesse, Angelina, Grandma Nancy (Angelina and Annette's mother), Abbey (Angie's daughter), Annette (Jesse's mother), Tammy (Nancy's daughter-in-law).

A very happy customer taking away pizza and wings

The family seemed so happy and in unison. My hunger was satiated, but my spirits were lifted.

In this day and age -- seeing families work together, spend time together and stay together is rather unique and a precious virtue that transcends what we perceive as right and normal.

Needless to say, I had a very pleasant ride home. First seeing the beauty of Luray, then watching the beauty of a loving family.

A cold front had shoved its way through from the capes of the Shenandoah and the heavens was dumping up a storm enough to fill Lake Moomaw in the winter, but the peaceful, loving touch of this nice loving family carried me home. Yes, all the way home.

Homecoming

I flew in with approximately 200 Soldiers, Sailors, Marines and Airmen who deployed to Iraq and Afghanistan for up to one year.

A flight that I barely made (Space-A), and one that I didn't expect to make turned out to be the highlight of my trip. 

It was an honor flying with my brothers and sisters back home.  And it was a great honor being in the receiving line of the best, most heart-felt welcoming I've ever witnessed in my 20 years of service.

What a wonderful way to come home after the whirlwind tour of Europe and a fantastic way to end my Navy career.

I start school on Sunday and go on terminal leave until the end of October.

Thank you sincerely to everyone especially Operation Welcome Home for giving our Heroes the welcome that they truly deserve.