The freedom we celebrate today as Americans, of course, isn’t free. It’s a debt paid forward by brave men and women who, in times of danger, run toward the sound of guns. United States Marines are known for this gallantry, and my friend Rye Barcott, who served in the Marine Corps, is no exception.
Rye is one of a group of men I train with regularly. I’ve written of the Campos previously, of the guys who have changed my life. Rye is one of those guys.
A quick word of caution to any civilian thinking about exercising regularly with a Marine: it’s hard on the ego. They do pull-ups with maddening nonchalance, and can run for, as we say in the South, a month of Sundays. But they’ll make you run with the swift.
This is important to me because “Run with the Swift” is my family’s unofficial motto. It’s how I encourage my daughter in tennis matches, when she battles by playing up a level. I say it to my son for reassurance when he chooses a heavy course load in school. So it was kind of inevitable that I’d be drawn to someone like Rye.