It's hard not to think of death and sadness on this day. 11 years after the fact and I don't think I'll ever be able to see a picture of the towers burning without feeling some sort of emotional response.

Lately there's been a couple of events that have reminded me of my own mortality. Bob Odegaard, an aerobatic pilot, passed away last Friday. I recognized the name and knew he flew at Oshkosh while I was there, but couldn't place him. It was only today that I realized he was the pilot flying aerobatics in the Corsair. It hit harder today than Friday. I had watched him fly. I sat there in the shaded grass watching him fly in awe, as he flew aerobatics in a Corsair he restored himself. He wasn't one of the cowboy-type younger, crazier aerobatic pilots. He was 66 years old - a highly respected and highly experienced pilot. And he died while practicing aerobatics for an airshow...

I know it's aviation, I know it's aerobatics and I know things happen in both. It doesn't make it any easier. It doesn't make it any less scary.

Recently, I've signed up to run the Spartan 5k, a mud and obstacle race. I saw a news story the other day about 2 people who died during one such race and another that was permanently paralyzed.  I was nervous enough about the race to begin with and now I'm downright scared. Whiskey Tango Foxtrot did I just do???

I guess that's what all this rigorous training prepares us for and both situations are no different - always have a contingency plan, be two steps ahead at all times, train as much as possible for the unknown, push the envelope but don't step over that line, use good judgment, listen to myself, be brave, know that I can do this and have fun.

After all, it's evident that playing it "safe" isn't a guarantee of safety either.