Whether it’s a tough project, a tough race, or a tough year, there’s nothing quite like the feeling of taking a victory lap and crossing the finish line. It’s an exhilarating rush of ecstasy, relief, surprise, and pride. You have to lose yourself in the project only to find you’re a different person on the other side — for as we create, we’re creating ourselves.
Near the end of our convoy missions, we’d cross out of Iraq and back into Kuwait. About twenty minutes after crossing the border, there was a collective, palpable sense of relief, pride, and gratitude among our soldiers. Jokes would start, inane radio chatter would need to be squelched, and parts you didn’t know could clench would loosen up. We weren’t done, but we at least could do it by the numbers. It was then that I knew that I wouldn’t be writing any letters to family members or be a chew toy for the brass back at base.