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My heart was racing, as though I’d just run a marathon, while I stood in one of three lines with a group of people I could only assume were at least as crazy as I was. Where were we? And why were we there? In the dark of night, after nine o’clock on October 3rd some where in Austin, Texas, 29 candidates stood quietly in anticipation of the start of the GoRuck Heavy event that would commemorate the Mogadishu Mile. Would we all finish? Why was my heart rate so high? Questions racing through my head, my heart continued to thump… hell, we hadn’t even started yet.