What do…

gas station pizza,

Dollar General sports bras,

and miles with the American flag

…have in common?

The Old Glory Relay.

At least that’s how it’s been for me. It’s been miles, and then more miles, at times in the frosty chill of the morning and the baking heat of midday.

It was making a pit stop because we signed up for multiple days and sweated through our clothes and burned through our snacks. It was finishing my last mile on a stinking hot day by passing the flag and walking straight into the blessedly cool lake that was our transition point.

It was laughing as we hurriedly bumped the car over the rutted dirt on the side of the road to pull over, because the sun was perfect and we wanted to grab that awesome photo of our teammate as she cycled past with the flag.

It was sitting on the dock with feet dangling in the water, learning a little bit more about a colleague as we waited for runners to cross the bridge, and then grabbing the best fried catfish in town.

It was leapfrogging the runners, ruckers, and cyclists as they did their miles across entire states. It was watching with anticipation to see the flag materialize through the mist on a country road, feeling our excitement rise as we all clapped and cheered.

It was waiting at the handoff with those who signed up, listening to their stories and seeing them accept the flag and step off, sometimes with tears in their eyes.

It was having to adapt because Mother Nature decided to throw a curveball; putting heads together to work as a team to pivot and get the day’s miles done.

It was running through small towns in middle America and feeling a flutter in our chests every time a big rig honked as they saw us carrying the flag. It was walking past a pasture with the flag snapping in the wind, the only person on a two-lane road for miles in both directions, and seeing curious horses run up to the fence line to watch me go by.

It was choosing to start the day at veteran memorials in large cities, to remind people of the importance of never forgetting. It was seeing the nods of appreciation from the old ones, and explaining to the young ones why we’re out there.

To this day, after nine years in this organization and participation in every Old Glory Relay, it is the number one experience I hear members, volunteer leaders, and staff reminisce about — it’s a combination of the incredible feeling of having a hand in helping our flag move across the country, the challenges, and the teamwork required to make it happen.

Whether you’re carrying the flag on the route or you’re in a support vehicle, the Old Glory Relay is one part embracing the suck, one part making PT fun, and two parts epic patriotism and camaraderie. It will be an experience you’ll never forget.

What will your experience be like?

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