Friday, October 8, 2021

Thoughts on Being Cancelled

[The following narrative depicts the views of the writer and does not represent any official statements nor policies of the Department of Defense or Marine Corps Marathon Organization.]

We dodged a bullet, or so we thought. The Army Ten-Miler announced its cancellation. We had heard rumors earlier in the day and were anticipating the announcement. But we were not concerned about the Marine Corps Marathon suffering the same fate. Although we shared many of the same partners for our events, we had a solid plan in place to keep moving forward with our race. We were in constant contact with our partners and had affirmative responses to the questions posed to us.

Was the threat outlook low for the National Mall and federal lands? YES. Did we meet the intent of the National Park Service rules for COVID-19? YES. Did we meet with our medical partners to discuss staffing, support, and hospital bed space? YES. Did we collaborate with other scheduled races to be sure we had viable plans for best practices, concerns, and solutions? YES. Did we meet with Public Health Leads from our region and share our mitigation strategies and answer their concerns? YES.

On Friday, September 17, we had a late afternoon call with a senior member of one of our partners. He voiced some concerns about our mitigation and wanted to know why we thought we could make this work when other military events cancelled. He had to take our final race approval to a higher level but voiced support for our plan and the detailed process we had gone through to get the “YES.”

 On Monday, September 20, I left for the Inaugural Annual Meeting & Scientific Conference, a sports medicine conference in Indianapolis. I was super excited because I was presenting twice on topics that support my role at the Marine Corps Marathon Organization; this is something for which I am passionate. The first talk, “Sideline Management and Emergency Response of Adaptive Sports,” is based on lessons learned from our 2019 race. The second talk, “Physical Therapists Running the Show: Exploring Leadership Roles of the Sports Physical Therapist at Large Running Events,” would be presented with Dr. David Nolan, the lead physical therapist for the Boston Marathon. Dave and I have collaborated on and shared many of our work experiences. Our presentation highlighted the roles PTs can and do play in the administration and execution of large-scale events.

 Throughout the conference I was checking in with work via text and email because I knew I had a lot to do upon my return to Quantico. We had only five weeks remaining to complete everything for our events. In addition, because of the move to virtual in 2020, several of our team members and volunteers were new and had no real experience with managing care at races. This, of course, added the pressure of getting them prepared. But we were excited for the event. There is something “electric” about race week preparation and, for me, I enjoy the chaos and problem-solving that happens on race day. Also, I always see people rise to the occasion and figure things out; that is very satisfying.

Wednesday night I saw a message on my cell phone. It was my boss. He rarely calls outside of working hours, but I thought it was related to a personnel issue he and I were both managing (I did not review the message as I was trying to enjoy the conference and knew I would speak with him in the morning). Then, on Thursday morning, I received a message that I needed to join a conference call. I called my boss; the news was not good, but there was still a chance. We huddled for over 90 minutes talking about other options should one of our partners not support. We needed to move forward and see if we could gain momentum and support for another plan. In the meantime, we also needed to stop contracts where we could, if possible. There would be another meeting on Thursday afternoon with an advocate who we hoped would keep us at YES. I reached out to my medical partners asking them to keep this information at close hold and we reviewed our plan again with them. They were still giving us a YES.

I presented my first talk on Thursday. I focused, and we had a great response from the audience. But the day did not go so well; before it was over, we were told “NO.” The tears started. I honestly believed we could safely run our events and provide a morale boost to those within and outside of our organization. I was so beyond disappointed, it is hard to describe. I reached out to each of the partners I was coordinating with and some were surprised, others were not. Each commented on our superb planning efforts to provide a safe event.

We sent out a press release which, in part, read:

The 2021 Marine Corps Marathon (MCM) Weekend events scheduled for Friday, October 29 through Sunday, October 31 in Arlington, Virginia and the nation’s capital, have been canceled due to security and safety precautions currently in place. “After exhausting all possibilities, the opportunity to safely operate and execute a live event is just not feasible at this time,” said Rick Nealis, director of Marine Corps Marathon Organization (MCMO). “Though we had high hopes to welcome home our running community this October…”

The most difficult part was reading comments on social media. Some were brutal and the attacks felt personal, many implying that we failed in our planning and execution. Others were sympathetic with many of my friends and volunteers reaching out to me. I had to stop looking.

I told my fellow presenter Dave about the cancellation. Of course, we still had to deliver the second talk at the conference but I did not know if I could keep my emotions in check. After outlining everything we do to prepare for the race, my last slide read “CANCELLED.” There was nothing more. 

Friends continued to reach out. Several staff members from other races sent messages and I am happy to see that many races are still being held. I continue to process the loss of our event. In the scheme of life, it is a blip, but when you are passionate and ready to return to some normalcy it hurts.

Wednesday, January 27, 2021

Looking Ahead: Post-COVID

I have not felt capable of writing my IIRM blog for months. Today I sat down and began to reflect on the past year and where we are today.

If our collective prayers and wishes make a difference, then 2021 will be better; we will get back to normal. By spring we will be back to doing all the things we did before. Once we have the vaccine, we will be fine. Races will start again; people will come back. Beer tents and race stories will return. But, then again, maybe it won't be until the summer.

Will the Olympics happen? The NBA bubble was great but look at the NBA now. College sports are shutting down and starting up again. High school sports are going on as normal or being played in empty gymnasiums with or without video feeds. Or they are not happening at all. Athletes at all levels have tested positive for COVID-19, some with devastating effects to their hearts and ending their careers or worse. This summer my 25-year-old son got COVID-19. He also had pneumonia in two lobes and cardiomyopathy. Today he is doing better.

Many of us have watched while others have had their events cancelled, and we’ve experienced our own cancellation after cancellation. We hear conflicting information about runners and events. Among the many comments floating around are: Virtual events are great. Virtual events will not last. We will include virtual events as an option with all our future events. Runners are not ready to come back. Runners are wanting to compete in-person. Waves and spacing work. Can we really manage spacing in larger events? Running with a mask may impede respiratory function. Running with a mask does not affect oxygenation levels.

We can socially distance (from the beginning I felt it should be physically distance and we should keep the social part). We can have drive-thru packet pick-ups and virtual expos. Permits are not being issued for many events yet. Boston April 2021 is not happening; maybe it will be Boston in October. Or, perhaps, November. What about the World Marathon Majors? Will we have runners and Marines in the streets of DC in October? Maybe it will all need to wait until 2022.

We held two small live events this year out of the 19 scheduled. Each had less than 325 entrants, spaced in waves and on wide courses. Everything after the finish was self-serve. There were no sponsors. I measured circles six feet apart at start lines and spray-painted dots on the ground at finish lines to keep runners apart. I reviewed medical protocols with my providers. I answered questions from runners and staff and volunteers. Medical staff wore full PPE in open air tents. In two events we saw only two runners with injuries. Most of our staff time was spent packing up shirts, medals, and premiums to mail out to our virtual runners. I decided to walk our 10K and marathon since I did not have anywhere to be on what would have been race day. I am fortunate, I still have a job.

I attended online training with other event staff persons to learn best practices and share "survival" ideas. I met with my medical counterparts to talk about COVID-19 testing, mitigation strategies, and how to talk to our race directors about our concerns. I wore and continue to wear a mask every day. On January 22nd I received my first dose of the Pfizer vaccine. I feel lucky. Hopefully in three weeks there will be enough for me to get my second shot.

Many of you could write a similar story. Some of our colleagues have lost their jobs. Others, like me, are not planning race operations; instead, we are doing other things in hopes that we will soon be back to planning race operations. One year ago I was in Washington state visiting friends and having tea and talking about the year ahead. I had no idea what 2020 had in store for us. None of us did.

Nowadays many of us are hoping that we will see an abundance of vaccine, that everyone will take it, and that the variants will not take hold. We are also hoping we can get permits and attend expos. Personally, I am hoping that on this November 1st, I can reflect on the prior day and grumble about my fatigue of being awake for 19 hours
and smile knowing we have come out on the other side.