A friend sent me an article today that I wanted to share. It is full of strange tests and some science lingo that is a bit over my head, but basically it is claiming that the human body was made to run, and it doesn't stop there. These guys claim that humans can run faster and longer than animals.
It is a funny article. They stuck a thermometer in a cheetah's rump and got it to run on a treadmill. This was to prove that humans get rid of heat better than other species because we sweat. The cheetah refused to run once it's temp reached 105. They also had a guy run next to a horse and they measured his stride, proving that his stride was actually greater than the horse's. It also talks about the value of our own butts and how they keep us balanced when our upper bodies would otherwise fall forward when running. They even told of a marathon called the Man Versus Horse Marathon in Llanwrtyd Wells, and in June 2004 a man actually won!
Of course they explain it all way better than I do. And it all sounds a little kooky, but as I was reading I thought, "I can believe this." The reason I believe it is from my own personal experience. And not just mine alone, but through the experiences of others as well. My husband, the gazelle for instance. I bet he could outrun that horse. :) My friend Kristi who has run a 54 mile race and lived to tell about it. Dean Karnazes who ran 50 marathons in 50 days. And the feats get wilder and bigger still! One hundred mile races across deserts. Marathons and ultra marathons in Antarctica.
And when I think about what our team of 6 people did at the Blue Ridge Relay, I can believe we were made to run. We ran for two days. We ran an average of six 10Ks at race pace (or tried in my case). We climbed and climbed and ran down steep hills - all on little to no sleep, and little food as well for some.
A track coach in Fayetteville, TN instructed her runners that running is 80% mind and 20% body. I'm not sure the ratio doesn't over exaggerate a little...but it might be right on target. After a marathon I often have someone say to me, "I could never run that far." And my reply is always, "You could if you wanted to." The relay was another proof of this for me, along with each surprising personal record I obtain in various races of varying distances. From a 5K to a marathon, my times slowly improve, and I am left with the question, "How much more can I do?"
I'm not sure why I have the desire to run. I'm not sure why some people hate it. I'm not sure why some people start running at age 36 or 57, and why some people start running in high school. But I do know that I love it. I love being outside. I love the wind and the sun in my face (in moderation, of course). I love watching the sunrise as I run toward it, and I love running in new places and coming up with new goals. I love talking about it with others and hearing of their own personal triumphs. I love discussing training strategies, stretching, and cross training, and I love giving an encouraging word to a new runner.
Anyway, I hadn't intended to blather on as I have, but the article got the wheels turning. I would like to say, however, that while these scientists believe human bodies have evolved to do what they do - I give all the credit to the Big Guy upstairs. Maybe He knew we'd need it to survive. Maybe He knew we'd want it for fun. Whatever the case I count it a blessing, and with each step I am grateful.
As always, it seems so strange to be back at work, sitting at my desk, with all the usual day to day things going on as they always do. Once again I’ve spent a little over a weekend on an adventure unlike any I’ve been on before, and I find it difficult to focus on the mundane as if I’m not a little changed by what I’ve done.
My adventure started Thursday morning as Jason and I rose early to pick up Eric in Knoxville. The three of us drove to Boone, NC where we spent the night before heading to GraysonHighlandsState Park in Virginia on Friday. The drive was gorgeous. I’d never been to that part of the country and so my eyes couldn’t get enough of the scenery as we wove our way through the Carolina mountains.
Arriving at the entrance of the state park, I could hardly contain myself, and Jason and Eric seemed to feel the same. We stopped to take pictures and we laughed as we foresaw how our feelings then would probably change as the relay progressed.
We met our three other teammates and their two drivers, received our t-shirts, took pictures and got ready to cheer for David as he started us off at 9:00.
And then the waiting commenced! I was impatient and starting to get anxious. Not a bad anxious – an excited kind of anxious. But this anxiety I felt, whether good or bad, started to put a stone in my stomach that didn’t go away until I passed Eric the bracelet for the last time.
Finally it was time for Jason to run. I was after him, so Eric and I hopped in the car and headed to Exchange Zone 5 where I would start my 5.15 mile leg. I pinned on my number, found my watch and my sunglasses, tore out the directions for my leg, and walked to the exchange cone to wait on my husband.
Leg 1
He arrived, slapped the bracelet onto my wrist, and my relay began. I ran with all I had, and I was surprised at how hard my first leg was. It was labeled “moderate” but with the steep hills, it didn’t FEEL moderate! I ran through a small town (Jefferson, I think) and the sun beat down on me. I pushed hard anyway and finished my leg in 43:40, giving me an average of 8:28 per mile. I was content.
Leg 2
My second leg was my favorite. Even though it was one of my longer legs, at 6.05 miles, it was mostly along the Blue Ridge Parkway, and I had shade, birdsong, and breathtaking views to accompany me as I ran. Toward the end, I heard footsteps behind me and I raced these footsteps until the end when they overtook me on the last hill. I fought hard, though, and finished my second leg in 56:10, giving me an overall pace of 9:17 per mile.
After this leg, the wait was a bit longer before we would run again. The other three members of our team had longer legs this time, one of which was a 10 mile run up GrandfatherMountain. I tried to eat in order to sustain the energy I’d need to keep running my legs…but all I could handle were salty baked lays and a few Danish wedding cookies.
Leg 3
When it was time for me to run again, it was dark. I put on my head lamp, a flashing light on the front and back of my shorts, and a reflective vest. When Jason ran up to the exchange zone, he handed me the bracelet, but did not stop as we took off on a 4.9 mile leg in the dark.
I have never in my life experienced such darkness before. It was pitch. Blacker than pitch. All I could see was a little circle of light at my feet where my head lamp shown for me. I hated it. We climbed and climbed, and I couldn’t see where the hill was going to end. I started to get stitches in my side and even though I took deep breaths, I could not get them to subside. This became a problem when the uphill turned downward and I could hardly take a breath. I didn’t want to put on the breaks, but I couldn’t get the oxygen I needed to run at that down hill speed.
Eventually we reached the exchange zone and I happily gave Eric the bracelet. I completed this 4.9 mile leg in 48:10, giving me an average pace of 9:49 per mile.
After Eric finished, we were all weary and ready for sleep. I caught some in the backseat, but awoke several times cold, damp, salty and sticky. It was uncomfortable and only going to get worse as I ran two more times before I could do anything about it. I tried not to wake Eric and Jason as I stepped out of our vehicle and made my way to the port-a-potties.
Leg 4
Around 3:00 a.m. I did my 4th overall leg, my second in the dark. Eric had agreed to accompany me this time, and so when Jason ran up with the bracelet, Eric and I took off on my 5.6 mile leg. It wasn’t as bad this time because I knew what to expect from the darkness. Eric’s hand lamp was MUCH brighter than mine and better at lighting the way. We ran on gravel for a while before reaching a smoothly paved road. I tried to run hard, but I could feel my body slowing down, asking for rest that it couldn’t have. We finished in 58:16, giving us an overall pace of 10:24 per mile.
Eric took the bracelet and kept running, while Jason helped me change into dry clothes. The rest this time was much better, and even though exhaustion was setting in, I didn’t mind the next leg so much because it was going to be light when I started. For that I was SO very grateful.
Leg 5
My 5th leg was one of my hardest as well. It was long and winding, but not too hilly. It was supposed to be 7 miles, but ended up being 7.5. I ran through an empty down town area and eventually followed the road out of town and back into the mountains. I ran along a babbling river and that was pretty much my only company. With every bend in the road I looked for the bright yellow Exchange Zone sign, but never saw one. Finally I saw a line of cars, and I wanted to cheer. A girl stepped out and gave me a high five as I ran to gratefully pass the bracelet to Eric. I finished this 7.5 mile let in an hour and 24 minutes, giving me a pace of 11:16 per mile.
I had absolutely NO energy by this point. My legs were so weak and I could barely take off my wet clothes for my last pair of dry ones. Once again Jason helped me change and followed that with strict instructions that I must eat.
I was already starting to feel triumphant by this point. I was weary beyond belief, but I knew I only had one more leg. It was labeled “hard” and I believed it, but as I sat in the car alone holding a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in my lap and looking at the biggest willow tree I’d ever seen, I didn’t care. I knew I’d do it. I knew I’d run whatever was set before me. It was to be a 4.5 mile leg and I knew I could do that distance.
Leg 6
Eventually my turn came to conquer that distance. It began with a steep two-mile climb, a sharp downhill and then it leveled out. The climb was unbelievable. There were actually switchbacks that were so steep, I could walk up them faster than I could run. I knew this two-mile stretch had to end and I prayed that it would hurry. Eventually I reached the down hill portion, which leveled out showing me gorgeous views of the blue ridge mountains.
When I saw Jason, I grinned from ear to ear and threw my hands in the air! He cheered for me with tears in his eyes and I handed Eric the bracelet for the very last time, saying, “Take it! I don’t want it anymore!” I completed my very last stretch in 52:25, giving me an overall pace of 11:38 per mile.
Eric finished strong giving us a relay time of 29 hours and 48 minutes. We were thrilled with what we’d done and ended up placing 4th amid the other ultra relay teams.
I have personally never been more ready to have a shower and to eat a decent meal. I smelled horrible. I was sticky and grainy from the sweat and the salt, not to mention covered in whatever invisible germs reside in the countless portable potties I visited throughout the relay. We got to our hotel room and I bee-lined for the shower. We had a little time before we were to go back over to the finish line for the awards ceremony and after getting clean, Jason and I fell asleep, almost missing the ceremony altogether.
At the ceremony I could hardly stand. I was so tired and so weak and so hungry, it was all I could think about. Jason talked the race director into giving me a pair of socks since it was our anniversary and tradition…and the race director did! It is too bad they weren’t giving away flip flops because I left mine at one of the exchange zones and my feet were missing them sorely.
SO, that brings me to now - the week of the ordinary where great feats are left behind for the desk and the computer. I have no doubt that we will attempt something like this again sometime, some where. It was an amazing race and an amazing adventure, and I shall live on my memories of it for quite a while.
After a discussion with Mom and Dad on the subject (my dad, I believe, being one of the smartest men in the world), here is what was concluded.
Ten reasons why the American people should not vote for Barack Hussein Obama.
1. Obama was nurtured by the Daley political machine (the mayor of Chicago) and he learned his political practice from Chicago thugs.
2. Obama has no significant legislative achievements. About one-half of the time when he was an Illinois legislator, he voted "present." He didn't have the guts to take a stand one way or the other on things.
3. Obama constantly voted for anti-gun laws.
4. Obama demonstrated an extreme pro-abortion position in his voting.
5. Obama is a Transformational Marxist. It is evident in his book and in his positions on social issues.
6. Obama will increase taxes, the size of government and socialized medicine.
7. By his own words, he shows no understanding of history and foreign affairs.
8. Obama is arrogant and has a Messiah complex. He has a certain amount of charm and charisma so he is very clever at wording things and speaking in platitudes and this is part of his deception. According to his book, he has sought out Marxist student groups and professors.
9. Obama simply lacks experience. He has not accomplished anything in his tenure in government. He tells people that he is going to do great things but he has no record of accomplishment.
10. He has associated himself with Jeremiah Wright for 20 years with his Black Liberation Theology, which is a Marxist based theology. He has also been a close associate of William Ayers, a member of a the 1960's Radical Weather Underground, who made bombs for blowing up government buildings and who recently said he wishes he had done more. He has, by his own admission, been a follower of Saul Alinsky who is a Transformational Marxist who wrote Rules for Radicals to promote organizing groups in large cities to promote radical change. Some people who have extreme views might say this is "guilt by association" but he would not associate with these people for many years if he did not agree with them.
Our relay team has grown! Joining us on our 208 mile trek through the Blue Ridge Mountains are David Ploskonka from Baltimore, MD and Eric Charette from Huntsville, AL, and we are glad to have them! Instead of 4 people running 50+ miles each, we have a wider range of distances, starting from 44.5 to 28.5, all hitting difficult levels of elevation gain and loss.
For me, this is good news. The challenge of 4 runners tackling 208 miles was exciting…and daunting. The idea of having 5 was much better, giving us all 43-44 miles, and in our search for another runner, we found two, making the race and a good time two things that could more easily go hand in hand.
We will now have two support vehicles. Van one will drive Kristi, Kandi, and David. Van two will drive Jason, Eric, and myself (Jane). Van one will run legs 1-3 and van two will run legs 4-6, continuing this rotation throughout the race.
I am thrilled with our new team and more excited now than I was before. The pressure of making the cut-off time and the fear of overdoing it are issues of the past. That doesn’t mean that we won’t experience fatigue and a strong desire to shut our eyes when we must open them and run, but it means we can give a little more and push a little harder on our respective legs that are now fewer in number.
As I write, our adventure begins in less than a week. I have trained hard and I feel ready. I’m ready for the challenge, ready for the experience, ready for the beauty of unseen mountains, and ready to spend this time with my husband and our good friends.
This time last year I was getting ready to get married. I married my husband, Jason Reneau, on Sept 3, 2007, which was Memorial Day. I can’t help but think it is fitting for the two of us as runners to begin our second year of marriage this way. Maybe it will be a new tradition – to try something new together each new year.
To me, this relay is a bit like marriage. It is longer than most races and certainly not the easiest one to choose. There are moments of joy, moments of hardship, moments of rest, and moments where one has to ignore how they feel and give it all they’ve got to succeed. In a relay, just like in marriage, one doesn’t run only for himself, but for another. It is a team effort, requiring all participants to work hard to obtain the goal.
So while this relay will most certainly be an amazing personal accomplishment, I don’t run it only for myself. I run to support my team, to give my all, and to celebrate another year of life with a beloved teammate.
This has been your Cheesy Moment with Jane Tortoise (and knowing me, there are probably more to come).
I’ve been watching the Olympics almost every night since they started. And while they are definitely inspiring, they are nerve-racking and exciting and heart-breaking at the same time. I’ve watched athletes with triumphant finishes and I’ve watched athletes with crushing defeats and shattered hopes. I’ve watched athletes with injuries and mistakes not make it to the finish, and my heart goes out for them.
Even though I want the US to win in everything, I can’t help but support other teams who have worked so hard to get to where they are. When the program does a spotlight on an Olympian, I start feeling like I know them and I want them to succeed.
From Liu Xiang, China’s hope for a track and field victory, to Lolo Jones who everyone knew had it in the bag, these stories broke my heart for these runners who had worked so hard only to have an injury or mistake that kept them from the gold in what should have been their finest hour.
And then I had a little mishap of my own that gave me a moment of panic and frustration last night. Not that I in any way compare to these Olympians, I don’t. But what we DO have in common is a goal of some sort that requires us to train hard, to push, to start even when we are tired, and to give it all we’ve got when the moment of truth arrives.
Tuesday morning I ran 9 miles, 4.5 with my friend Mimi, and 4.5 alone. I strategically placed Eastview (a murderous hill in Madison) in the midst of both routes so that I would have to climb it twice. The relay we are to run will have elevation similar to the hills of Eastview, and so I try to fit it in at least once a week, using Cecil Ashburn for the other hill-work day.
Even with 9 miles run already, I knew that for the relay I’d be running several times a day, and so a double or two each week would be a good idea. Jason was going to run the Cross Country Run Tuesday night, so I packed some clothes and planned to go too.
I hadn’t planned on trying to run fast, but it is hard to do when surrounded by other runners who are keeping a good pace. I gave myself a word of warning as we hit the trails. I haven’t been running trails at all, and while these are not the most difficult Huntsville has to offer, they are filled with rocks, roots, and plenty of uneven terrain.
I knew I should probably slow down, but I’d made up my mind not to let the runner behind me catch me so I ran as fast as I could, trying to watch my step as I went.
On the last mile of the run, my foot struck too close to the edge and my ankle turned inward. I yelped and corrected, still running. The pain wasn’t bad at first, just a little notification that something wasn’t right. As I ran, though, the pain increased slowing me down and letting the guy behind me pass (two guys, in fact).
By the time I finished it was throbbing. I looked for Jason trying not to panic. I wanted to cry, not from the pain, but because I didn’t have time for an injury and I had no idea if it was a bad one or not.
I told Jason and he looked at it. It had not started to swell and that was a good sign. He gave me strict orders to head home, shower, and get ice on it as fast as I could. I called my mom on the way home and she seconded his instructions. “Ice it until you feel like your bone is going to fall off,” she said.
I followed instructions and this morning my range of motion had improved. I’m icing it as I write. I’m planning to take today off, but tomorrow is Cecil Ashburn with Kristi and it has swiftly become my favorite run of the week.
Last week I ran a total of 57 miles. That is a first in the life of this running gal. I’m aiming for another 50 miler and then maybe a 40 before I begin to taper for the relay. I think this ankle will be fine, and for that I am extremely grateful!
Even though I’m no Olympian, I’ve still put a lot of time, training, effort, and hope into this race. I’m excited and I’m ready for the challenge, and whatever that brings along with it.
I think I’ll sit out any more trail running until afterward, however.
More has been done, of course, and more will be done.There have been greater and more amazing feats by people all over the world.But for this 28-year-old running gal, this is the most and the biggest and the longest event in my repertoire of great feats.
I, along with 3 other crazy heads, (who have engaged in various levels of insanity themselves) am running the Blue Ridge Relay, September 5 – 6, 2008.What this entails is the four of us sharing a 208 mile journey through the Blue Ridge Mountains.We will start at 8:00 a.m. Friday morning in the GraysonHighlandsState Park in Virginia and run through South Carolina to Asheville where we will hopefully finish before the cut off time at 5:30 p.m. Saturday evening.
I am the first runner in our race, beginning with a 4 mile leg, followed by Jason then Kristi then Kandi.We have to stay in this order until the last leg has been run, and so it is really luck of the draw as far as mileage and elevation difficulty.I will, Lord willing, run a total of 50.8 miles.Jason will get the most mileage with a total of 58.8.Kristi hits midway, with some HARD elevation at 52 miles, and Kandi will be running 44.9, also with some steep elevation losses and gains.
Our drivers are Betsy and Kalon, Kristi and Kandi’s mom and brother.They will drive us in their van, dropping off runners to start a leg as another runner finishes.We will do this until we finish.
Our team is The Tortoises and the Hare. Jason is of course our hare and we are glad to have him.However, we have a strong group of tortoises as well, and I feel confident of a good race.
I have never been a part of a team before and so this adds a new dimension to my running outlook.I no longer train with only myself and my goals in mind, but for a group of others who are counting on me to do my part.This is a great motivator when I’m feeling too tired or too sore, or debating sleeping in instead of running.I remember my teammates and this grand race for which we must prepare, and it helps me push a little harder, run a little farther, and get out of bed when I’d rather not.
We have a website, and if you’d like to follow us as we get ready for this event, and then as we run the event, our experiences and pictures will be posted here.
The morning of June 7 showed promise with only a few clouds in the sky and the sun peaking over the horizon. As I looked out my hotel room window, eating half a bagel with peanut butter and jelly on it, I wondered what the day would hold.
Jason, Mom, and I would be running the Governors Cup Marathon in Helena, Montana. I felt ready and excited, filled with hope that the route would take me out to the mountains I’d come to love during my time there.
The race started at 6:30 a.m. for the marathoners. We stood shivering and stretching in the 43 degree morning until the race director announced one minute before the start. Jason gave me the traditional three good-luck kisses before heading to the front, and for the first time, I could actually see my husband up there with the front runners. He was only three rows in front of me, as there were only about 135 marathoners racing that day.
The countdown began ten…nine… eight…GO! I ran with Mom for a few moments and we laughed at how stiff our legs felt in the cold morning air. Then she said good-bye and good luck as I turned on my ipod and prepared for what I knew would be a great race.
As we ran I couldn’t help but smile. Once I started moving, I warmed up and just as I’d hoped, the route took us through a few neighborhoods and then out to long country roads surrounded by mountains and farms. I felt like dancing. I felt like singing. I felt like throwing my arms in the air and shouting “THANK YOU, LORD!”
In my excitement I ran the first two miles at a nine minute pace and so I made myself slow down a bit, knowing I couldn’t hold that pace. The miles went by fairly quickly. At mile 7 a few half-marathoners passed me and I cheered for them. At mile 11 I saw my husband doubling back and we slapped hands as I said, “Looking good, Babe.” At mile 13 I looked at my watch and it showed two hours and thirteen minutes. I was pumped. I wasn’t exactly shooting for a personal record that day, but I hoped to finish somewhere in the 4:30s or 4:40s, and I believed I could.
The turnaround was at mile 15. I was beginning to tire and my feet were beginning to hurt, but that was nothing new. I smiled as the photographer took my picture and laughed as he said, “Almost there now! You’re heading for the barn!”
And then it all fell apart. I knew it was going to be windy once I turned around because I could feel the wind at my back, but I had no idea just how windy it was going to be. As I ran the wind picked up and gusts of 25-30 mph hit me head on. I saw Mom at mile 16. She asked me how I was and I said I’d been better. She kissed me on the cheek and introduced me to her new friend, Susan. We wished each other luck and ran on.
By mile 18 I wanted to cry, and I am not a crier. I’m a teeth-gritter and more likely to get mad before I get upset. I tried to dig deep and recall all the times I’d had to fight hard to run and how I’d overcome them. I remembered the marathon in New Jersey where the coastal wind fought me the entire way and how I’d become fed up and picked up my pace, fighting right back.
But the wind was harsh and cold and nothing my mind did could change that. Birds flapped their wings only to stay in place. Horses stood with their backs to the fences and any brush or trees in their yard. Race volunteers dressed in down jackets with hoods commented on how windy it was as I ran passed. And still the wind howled and gusted and pushed against me until each mile felt like hours of grueling work.
I tried to keep my heart light. I had hoped for another Kentucky Derby, another triumphant finish and a grand finale to what had been a fantastic week out west. I recalled the words I’d said to Jason about how this race was just for fun and that it didn’t matter how well or how poorly we did. Yet as I was running I realized that I had a certain definition for “poorly” and this was not it.
I looked at the mountains around me and tried to focus on the beauty there. It made my eyes water to look into the wind and when I tried to do more than granny shuffle, the wind knocked my feet together (making for some very sore ankles afterwards). I tried to eat some gummy life-savors, which I carried in a small sandwich bag, but they made me nauseous, so I stuck to water and powerade at the aid stations.
I watched as the minutes passed on my watch and couldn’t believe I was moving so slowly. I wanted to pick it up, but everything hurt, and I was cold and beaten. The wind flew at me so hard that it swept my breath away and I constantly felt like I couldn’t get enough air.
Half-way through mile 25 (the longest mile in the world) I saw Jason. I didn’t want to look as pitiful as I felt, so I tried to keep running (granny shuffle) so that when Jason saw me, he wouldn’t think I was hurt. When I saw him I was so ready to be done and so frustrated at the state of things that all I could say was “WHERE DO I GO?” The cones lead in both directions and the volunteers hadn’t seen me yet.
“Right up that hill.” Jason said. Up the hill? I thought. You’re kidding! But he wasn’t. The last mile was filled with downtown hills after an entire course of flat country roads. He jogged with me and then we saw Julie. She’d run the 5k and she too was beginning to wonder about her sister and her mom. I told her I had changed my mind about moving to Montana. I told Jason this was the longest mile in the world. He repeated an earlier statement that everything is bigger in Montana, even the miles. I didn’t smile, for that took energy.
The finish line was FINALLY in my sites and as the announcer called my name, I wanted to hide. “Here comes Jane Reneau from Madison, Alabama. How many marathons is this for you, Jane?”
I wanted to say one. I wanted to say this was my first. I wanted to say that it was supposed to turn out differently. I looked up and said weakly, “Fifteen,” and ran under the finish banner in 5 hours and 15 minutes.
I was given a medal and the chip was taken off my shoe. Jason gave me some water and I sat down out of the wind for the first time in 5 hours. I was disappointed and embarrassed. My face stung with wind burn and my legs and hips ached so badly that even sitting didn’t relieve them.
Jason, being the wonderful husband that he is, hugged me and told me he was proud. I laughed thinking, proud of what, but it helped to hear him say it all the same.
Mom came through the finish line 19 minutes later with her friend Susan, and I was relieved to see her. The four of us headed to the car, each of us reliving the agony that was 26 miles in such strong winds.
We ate hamburgers at a local restaurant and then we said our good-byes. Jason and I were flying out of Bozeman the next day to head home, while the rest of them drove back. Jason and I talked of the race during our drive to Bozeman, and even though I was sad and disappointed, I had to admit it was all worth it. I knew I couldn’t let the marathon define the week - and what a splendid week it had been!
I also knew I couldn’t let one bad race define me as a runner. Since the Kentucky Derby Marathon in April, I’d believed I was in a different time bracket and that a bad race for me wouldn’t exceed 5 hours anymore. I was wrong and that bothered me.
Even so, there will be other races, Lord willing, and there will be time to train for them. This runner will meet the road again, and when she does, she will be ready to not only smear her time in Montana, but in Kentucky as well. There are personal records to be made, and even in my healing and recovery, I am ready to work for them.
