On Monday, I had a vague recollection of receiving a jury summons notice for someday in December. I asked my wife Tiffany if she had seen the paper lately and she hadn’t. Yesterday morning, I woke up and it popped back into my mind. So, I went and spent a few minutes searching for it. Sure enough, the summons was for yesterday. Good thing I remembered. I don’t need another bench warrant!

Real quick, just in case you’ve never been here, welcome! I’m a father of three and a marathon runner. My middle child, 7-year-old Jack, is severely autistic. I wanted to do something to use my running to make a difference, so I’m attempting to run 61 marathons this year to raise money for a charity I’m a part of called Train 4 Autism.

I named this endeavor Operation Jack, after my son. This year is almost done, as is Operation Jack. I’m through 59 of the 61 so far! Today, I’m going to talk about jury duty, though. And to clarify that bench warrant comment, I haven’t had one in 12 or 13 years.

Anyways, back to jury duty. I feel like I should have a lifetime exemption. I spent four weeks on a trial back in 2001 — four weeks that seemed like four years. When I went in, I really wanted to get on a jury. I was working as a sports information director at a college and it was right after the school year ended. I was all set to take a month off and I needed something to do. It was about six weeks before Benjamin was going to be born and other than watching talk shows all day with Tiff, there wasn’t much on the docket.

So, if I got jury duty, I would have something to do, plus I wouldn’t have to take vacation time. I went in, hoping just to get to the selection process. Right before lunch time, I did! They asked for anybody whose employer would cover a four-week trial, and that was ME! We all went up to the courtroom and got random numbers. I was somewhere around 40. They only needed 16 including the alternates, so I knew 24 people would need to get dismissed before they even considered me.

I waited and waited. And waited. I think at the end of that day, they had dismissed enough people and I finally got in the box. I wanted to get selected, but I wasn’t going to try to give any type of answers that I thought they wanted to hear. I was just as open and honest as I could be. They told us the injury involved an injury accident and an auto manufacturer.

It’s funny — early on in the selection process, it was obvious one woman desperately wanted out. When the defense attorney asked her what she thought of auto manufacturers, she said she thought they were all crooks and she’d never believe a word that anybody in the auto industry said. They didn’t ask her another question, but they kept her up in the box until the final dismissals. They played her game right back with her, which I thought was pretty funny.

When they questioned me, I was nervous about getting dismissed. They asked me what I did for a living and I told them. They asked me if there was anything that would jeopardize my ability to serve on a four-week trial, so I told them my wife was due in six weeks. I thought for sure that would wreck me. Nope, the judge said no problem — we’d be out in four.

So they asked me what my wife did for a living. I answered that she managed a Victoria’s Secret store. All of a sudden, everything got silent. So I said, “OK, I know what you all are thinking. Victoria’s Secret and she’s pregnant. But she’s a manager at one of those stores with all the candles and perfumes — not the nightgowns. This was a planned thing.” Everybody was cracking up, and they let the class clown stay a little longer.

What does your wife think about you serving on a jury right now, they asked me. “Well, I’ll be honest. We were watching The Practice last night and they murdered that lawyer in the parking garage, so that spooked her a little bit since she knew I was coming in here today. But I told her that’s just TV and it’s not really like that.” Everybody laughed again, the judge reassured me that it would be safe and they continued. I was just being myself, but I was surprised I hadn’t been booted.

So they asked me if anybody in my family had ever been involved in an auto accident that resulted in a lawsuit. Yeah, my brother was in a near-fatal crash eight years earlier and pursued a lawsuit before dropping it. I couldn’t believe they kept going after that.

Anybody else in a lawsuit involving an auto accident? Actually, yeah — me! A lady ran a red light and t-boned me in 1994, sending me to physical therapy for three months. She sued me, so I said I’d show her and I sued her back (and I showed her). Still no dismissal.

Any other personal-injury lawsuits? Yeah, well, there was that one time I broke my neck and went through a nightmarish three-year legal process. Not a deterrent to either legal team at that point.

Anybody in your family a lawyer? Well, I guess if you want to count my dad, yeah.

Can you be fair? Yeah, I can be fair.

And somehow, they kept me on. I made the jury! I was giddy to run and call my boss when we went on recess. I think that was the last time I was giddy over the next month, though.

The case was a wrongful-death lawsuit. A woman accidentally put her foot on the accelerator instead of the brake and drove straight into a wall. The passenger in the front seat wasn’t wearing a lap belt and she died. A boy in the back seat put his arm around his mom and underneath the shoulder belt right before impact and ended up having his arm amputated.

It was a sad story all around, but the bottom line was one woman drove into a wall and another woman wasn’t wearing her seat belt. They sued the auto manufacturer, claiming she was wearing her seat belt. Of the 20 days of the trial, we spent about 12 full days listening to three witnesses evaluate blown-up photos of seat belt threads, arguing about whether or not the woman was wearing her seat belt.

It was BORING. How boring? There was a woman on our jury who had diabetes. She intentionally overloaded on sugar on our lunch break one day so she would have to go to the hospital and get dismissed. Her strategy worked. I struggled to stay focused, but I pulled it off. They didn’t tell us who the alternates were, because they wanted us all to pay attention. I found at the end that I was an alternate, so I didn’t get to deliberate. But I found out later that the defense won the case, which is exactly what I thought would happen. Sad case, but no-brainer.

Yesterday was much less eventful. I went in, plugged in my laptop, got to work and waited. Then it was lunch time, so I walked to In-N-Out. Back in 2001, I walked to that In-N-Out 15 times over a 23-day span! After lunch, I plugged my laptop back in and got back to work. And then I was dismissed. It’ll be at least 12 months before I have to go back.

So that’s my jury duty story. I feel like I’ve done my duty for a lifetime. But I’d never intentionally try to get out of it. It reminds me of something we said when I was a pledge in my fraternity.

To do what ought to be done, but would not have been done unless I did it, I thought to be my duty. I guess that kind of applies to Operation Jack, huh?

Well, that’s all for today. Have a great Wednesday, everybody! I’ll see you back here tomorrow!

Last week, I through a tweet out asking if anybody had any questions for a question and answer blog session. I was hoping for enough to cover a blog, but I got enough for about three. So without further ado, here goes!

Real quick, just in case you’ve never been here, welcome! I’m a father of three and a marathon runner. My middle child, 7-year-old Jack, is severely autistic. I wanted to do something to use my running to make a difference, so I’m attempting to run 61 marathons this year to raise money for a charity I’m a part of called Train 4 Autism.

I named this endeavor Operation Jack, after my son. This year is almost done, as is Operation Jack. I’m through 59 of the 61 so far! And now, the questions …

How many marathons had you run prior to starting this years blitz? 2. Would you do it again?
Before this year, I had run 28 full marathons, a 50K and a 50-miler. I had done this over the course of 3 1/2 years, so I had averaged about eight 26.2-mile or longer races a year since I ran my first marathon in June 2006. However, I had run at least 26.2 in training a good 40 or 50 times, so I had covered the distance maybe 80 times. I also trained with plenty of 100-mile weeks (I think I had about 14 in a row in 2008 at one point) so I was used to high miles and running on tired legs.

Going all-out for 26.2 at least once a week for a year is different than just doing it in training, and tougher than anything I had done, but I was confident I could give it a shot. I wouldn’t recommend it to anybody who thinks heart is enough to get by — I think I was reasonably trained. But it was still a considerable challenge.

Would I do it again? There are two ways to analyze this question. I have no desire to ever run this many marathons in a year again. In fact, I have no desire to run more than two or so competitively per year ever again. But in hindsight, I’d absolutely do this all over again. No hesitation in that at all. No sense every wondering “what if” on something like this — not from a personal achievement standpoint, because this isn’t a big personal achievement to me. I’d rather run one fast marathon than 61 so-so marathons. But I feel like I helped to make the world a better place, and I’m glad I tried.

Are You Going To Write A Book?
If everybody who asked me that bought it, it would be worth writing! The thought has crossed my mind, and it’s possible, but it’s nothing I’m even going to truly consider until I’m done with this year. I have two marathons to go. I could snap my ankle stepping off a sidewalk tomorrow. There’s no telling how this story is going to end, so why write it?

My training is as a writer, so I’ll probably spend some time writing something. If nothing else, I’ll want it for myself. As for a book, if I can get something published and marketed, I’d do it. But I’m not going to write a book if I have to sell it. I don’t have the energy for that.

What Marathon Took The Most Out Of You To Finish?
That’s a tough call between the third day of the Tahoe Triple and Med City in Rochester, Minn. That third day in Tahoe was extremely difficult because of the hills at elevation, because I had run two hilly marathons at elevation the two days prior, and because I refused to take my foot off the accelerator. It was pretty painful and took a lot out of me, but the only real issue was running through considerable fatigue.

Med City, though, was a weather disaster. It was extremely humid and temperatures warmed up to about 90 by the time it was done. I had been running pretty well at that point, running 3:10:00 or better in three of my previous four races and running a 3:19 to take second overall in a race at elevation in the fourth race. But I went through the half in 1:41 that day and new the second half was going to be devastating as the temperatures continued to climb.

I had problems in my IT band in my right leg and started to limp with each step at mile 16. I had never taken a walk break before in a marathon, aside from the hills in Catalina, but I took six on a fairly flat course that day. It truly became a marathon, a battle to the finish. At several aid stations, I stopped to cool myself off by pouring multiple cups of ice water over my head. I struggled to run 10-minute miles. I ended up running a 3:57 and felt like I had gotten run over by a truck. That marathon took more out of me than any other marathon I’ve ever run.

What Was Your Worst Experience With Running/Racing This Year? Your Best? Most Strange? Most Encouraging?
This is tough, because there is so much to think about and I feel like I’m going to slight somebody with this answer.

Worst: The start at Nashville. Parking was a disaster getting in, they started the race early, and as a result, I had to start in wave 2. I had to dodge people for 11 miles on a hilly course on a hot, humid day and it was flat-out miserable. I couldn’t get going and I had a terrible race.

Best: I think it’s going to end up being the Operation Jack Marathon, but for now, I’m going to go with Boston. From a straight-up individual perspective, that was the best race I ever ran. Not the fastest, but the best. I dialed it up and nailed it and was pretty happy with that. I maximized what I was capable of that day, no question.

Most strange: I’m going to say a spectator I saw outside a bar in South Beach, Miami. The guy was dressed extremely odd in a small leather get-up, and when I saw him, I knew that even though it was 7 a.m. Sunday, it was still Saturday night for him. He looked pretty odd, and when I saw him, I couldn’t help but think, “Wow … this guy lives in a waaaaaay different world than I do.”

Most encouraging: The formation of the Maine Train 4 Autism chapter. Sarah and Danielle are the type of people I wanted to find for Train 4 Autism. Seeing what they’re doing and how hard they’re pushing is the boost I need when I’m on a down swing. I’m not going to be sufficiently explain it in words, and I don’t mean this as disrespect to anybody else, but they are my rock stars.

That’s All For Today
I think that’s long enough, right? I have some more questions for tomorrow. If you have anything you’d like to ask, let me know. I got a question about which race has the best-looking women, and I’ll answer it, but it’s still in line. I’ll get to it, Dave. I promise!

Have a great Tuesday! I’ll see you tomorrow!