grass and watched. I’d had enough.
By the time Dave was on his sixth mile, I was thinking, I’m watching a professional motocross racer get fitter and stronger. And I’m sitting here on the grass like a quitter.
As I watched him complete the tenth mile, I felt completely pathetic.
The next day, I started running, and I haven’t stopped since.
When I ran with Dave a month later, I beat him.
About four months after that, I ran the Boston Marathon. It was brutal, but I promised myself that I wouldn’t stop running until I crossed the finish line. Bill Rodgers won that year, with a time of two hours, nine minutes, and fifty-five seconds. My time was three hours and forty-four minutes.
I was determined to get better. I trained hard every day. A month after that, when I ran a second marathon, my time was three hours and thirty-three minutes.
My third marathon, I got it down to three hours and fifteen minutes and finished in the top 20 percent.
A month after that, I clocked in at three hours and six minutes.
Now I had to beat three hours. A couple weeks later, I did, crossing the finish line at two hours, fifty minutes. I’d made the top ten.
I started to realize something important: if you push yourself, you can accomplish great things.
I wanted to channel all the energy I had into something worthwhile, to find a way to make up for some of the bad things I’d done and the misery I’d put my parents through.
I just needed to find the right outlet.
I joined the Navy like my dad.
Chapter Four
The Navy
If you only do what you think you can do, you never do very much.
—Tom Krause
T he funniest story I’ve ever heard about joining the Navy involves a buddy of mine, a fellow SEAL. His name was Don, but we called him Boats because he was a boatswain’s mate.
Boats, a big, gruff guy covered with tattoos, described himself as a skinny, geeky kid in high school—the kind of boy that girls had zero interest in.
On the afternoon of Boats’s seventeenth birthday, one of the most beautiful girls in school approached him in the hallway. Her name was Patty.
She stopped in front of him and said, “I heard that today’s your birthday. Is that correct?”
Looking down at his shoes, he answered, “Uh, yes, Patty.”
Just being near her and speaking to her was exciting. When she actually touched his arm, he felt a tingle shoot through his body.
She purred, “That’s great. Congratulations.”
“Uh, thanks, but it happens to everyone.”
Patty trained her beautiful blue eyes on his and said, “You know, my parents are going out tonight. Why don’t you come over to my house at seven and I’ll make you dinner?”
Boats couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He stammered, “Wh-wh-what did you just say?”
“It’s your birthday and my parents are going to be out tonight. So why don’t you come over and I’ll cook you dinner? Would you like that?”
“Of course. Yeah. I mean…Are you sure?”
“Come on. Don’t you want to celebrate your birthday?”
“Yeah. What time?”
“Seven. You know where I live?”
Of course he did. How many times had he made a deliberate detour to go past her house on the chance that he might catch a glimpse of her through a window?
Now she was standing there before him like a dream come true, waiting for his answer.
He said, “Seven o’clock. I’ll be there.”
Boats went home, showered, put on his nicest clothes, spritzed himself with his dad’s cologne, then drove to a neighborhood florist to buy a bouquet of flowers. He splurged and bought red roses, arrived at Patty’s doorstep at seven, and rang the bell.
He stood rehearsing what he was going to say when Patty answered the door. She opened it and said, “Hi. Come in.”
Her smile was radiant. Almost blinding.
He mumbled, “Thanks,” and followed her inside.
She looked resplendent in a yellow and white sundress and smelled incredible. Patty showed him a place on a sofa and sat beside