Life Lessons Inspired by a Patch and a Medal

A patch and a medal: these two symbols, earned 45 years apart, taught me so much.

The moment I saw the patch, I just knew I had to have one. It was around 1972 and I was in the 4th grade. Our elementary school physical education teacher Rodney Smith explained that our school was going to participate in the Presidential Physical Fitness Test. The students that achieved the fitness standards would get a beautiful blue patch with an embroidered American eagle and a certificate signed by the President of the United States. The patch was a beauty, and I was determined to earn one.

New to the school, our gym teacher Rodney Smith stood about 6-feet tall, with an athletic build and swagger about him. He had just been discharged from the Army, and it was rumored that he had been a paratrooper. Besides that, Rodney drove a souped-up green Super Nova that further enhanced his iconic status with his elementary school PE classes. Rodney was just plain cool and a lot of fun.

A bit of history: In the early 1960s, President John Fitzgerald Kennedy started the Presidential Physical Fitness Test to enhance the physical activity of young Americans. Fearing that kids and adults were getting “soft and out of shape,” Kennedy implemented the Physical Fitness Test with standards established by age for sit ups, pull ups, shuttle run, timed mile, etc. Students who achieved times and standards in the 85% percentile earned the patch. Also around this time, JFK started a series of 50-mile running races around the country primarily for members of the military but also regular citizens to maintain and achieve great fitness. After his assassination in 1963, only one race remained; it is today called the JFK 50 Mile Memorial (more on that to follow).

My excitement to earn my first patch quickly ended in disappointment: I failed to achieve the standard for pull ups for my age. I would have to wait another full year to re-take the test. Upon failing the pull ups challenge, I started to complain “this is too hard! It’s not fair!” Rodney took me aside and admonished, “Mike, don’t wish it were easier; wish that you were better.” This advice still motivates me today.

Before the summer began, Rodney gave my friend Dan Sussman and me some tips about how to nail the pulls ups challenge the next fall. By the start of my 5th grade year, I was a young boy possessed. The 5th grade standard to achieve the patch was to do six pull ups. Dan and I had trained during the summer; I was going to be ready.

The fall came and fitness testing soon began. Either by cruel irony or by a deliberate strategy to maintain our full attention, Rodney scheduled pull ups for the last test in the program. Dan and I had achieved all the other fitness standards through the fall. Then one fateful day, Rodney led us all over to the pull up bars at Lake Harriett Elementary School gymnasium. He made Dan and I go dead last – just to keep us in suspense, I was sure. Finally, we jumped to the bars and cracked off our pull ups. Both of us made it! The patch and certificate would be ours. I remember Rodney being so proud of us. And if Rodney thought we were cool, how cool was that?!  

I don’t remember much about getting the patch, but since receiving it in 1973 I have always known its whereabouts. My Mom kept it safe for many years and then gave it to me after I was married. The patch has made every move, either being kept in our safe or in my drawer right by my bed. I used to joke with my wife that if it was in the safe, I had to have her dig it out every so often to prove to me the patch was still there. My kids have all heard waaaay too many times the story of my Presidential Patch.

Roll the clock forward to the past 15 years. I have found a passion for endurance sports, specifically triathlon. Inspired by the initial Presidential Fitness Challenge in my youth, I remain very active and fit. I have completed seven Ironman distance triathlons and ten marathons. My wife and I race several times a year. It’s our lifestyle choice.

So how does this story come full circle? Last year my wife and I were looking for an endurance event we could train for and do together. Either by fate or design we found the website for the JFK 50 Mile Memorial, a 50-mile ultramarathon race and the oldest one to boot. To add to the allure, the JFK 50 Mile Memorial was celebrating its 55th anniversary in 2017. It was the last remaining race that JFK initiated some 55 years ago, challenging some of his close friends and secret service agents do that the very first race. The race time limit is 13 hours; it begins in Boonsboro, Maryland and ends in Hagerstown, Maryland. So, I told my wife, “I have the patch and that finishers’ Medal with JFK’s picture looks pretty cool so, let’s do this.”

My wife and I trained through the summer for our fall race. Running 50 miles takes patience and lots of time on the trails, both running and walking to build fitness. We had good coaching and despite a few injuries along the way, we made it to the starting line.

Just like my elementary school pursuit of the patch, my quest for the medal would not be an easy one. Our November race day dawned cold, rainy and windy. Race veterans opined that the weather that year yielded the toughest race conditions in some 20 years. Rodney’s voice came back to me at the starting line as I zipped up my rain jacket, “Mike, don’t wish it were easier…”

The first 17 miles of the race were almost disastrous. I had made a poor shoe choice; they were ill-suited to handle the rocky and treacherous trek along the Appalachian Trail part of the course. The slippery and uneven rocks made my ankles and knees feel twisted and turned for the first 4 hours of the race. My wife and I were relieved and exhausted when we reached the flatter 25-mile section. We eventually found our rhythm and pace and cranked through the wind, mud and rain towards the finish line. We were greeted every 4 to 5 miles with great aid stations, so we set our sights on just running to the next aid station and ate some great food along the way. My wife also started to get stronger as the race went along. She maintained a healthy 5-minute lead over me and often waited at the aid stations for me to catch up. Despite that I had been stronger on training runs, my dear, two-time Boston Marathon wife was showing me who was boss on race day.

As mile 42 came, the race shifted to rolling country roads and darkness soon fell. The air remained heavy and damp. Each runner was issued a glow stick to help us find our way and make sure we could be seen. At this point, most Ultra runners are not running; the gait to the finish line resembles fast shuffling more than a flat-out run. My wife was ahead in the darkness somewhere but I was in good spirits knowing I was well within the time limit and not feeling too sore. Those last few miles were met with quietness of a dark country road and the sound of my feet on the pavement. I could see my breath in the cool, humid evening. Running alone, I began to reflect back on my fitness journey that started at Lake Harriet Elementary school and would finish with a medal for a 50-mile race.

I remember years earlier talking to one of my classmates about Rodney Smith. The classmate recalled how “cool of a black dude Rodney was.” I paused for a moment during that conversation. Until that moment I never had thought of Rodney as black or as any color at all. He was just a person I looked up to and admired. Was this part also of JFK’s extended plan?

The finish line was a blur of lights just ahead. The police officer at the intersection told me it was about a half mile. My quads told me we were going slightly downhill as they gave their final protest. My wife was waiting for me and we crossed the finish line together. The medal was placed around my neck and the link was now complete. JFK had started all this: the Presidential Physical Fitness Test and the JFK 50 Mile Memorial–separated by a mere 45 years. Rodney Smith encouraged and challenged me, and I learned the lesson of blindness to color at a very young age. Now at age 56, I am fit, wiser and continued to be inspired.

Author’s note: As of this writing, the patch and medal are scheduled to be mounted in a shadow box to be hung on my office wall. Mission accomplished, thanks to JFK and Rodney Smith.