Penseyres: On the Race Across America : Vietnam Veteran, Who Lost Left Leg in War, Tries to Keep Championship in the Family

On Jan. 31, 1968, Lance Cpl. Jim Penseyres led a squad of five other Marines on a patrol of a sandy, forgotten trail near Da Nang in South Vietnam.

Penseyres had been on hundreds of such routine missions during the preceding 12 months of the undeclared war, and he expected this one to be no different.

But it did not turn out to be routine. Penseyres, who up to that fateful day had escaped with only minor wounds despite being frequently exposed to enemy fire, was about to become a casualty.

Penseyres stepped on a foot-trap mine set by the Viet Cong, and his left leg bore the full brunt of the mine’s impact. The explosion left him groggy, but to this day Penseyres can remember the sight of the grotesquely mangled leg, which was amputated at the knee by Navy doctors a few hours later.

The next several weeks were spent on board a hospital ship off the coast of the besieged Southeast Asia nation, and then Penseyres was sent to recuperate in a hospital in Japan before finally returning home in June to begin rehabilitation in the Oakland Naval Hospital, where he was fitted with a prothesis.

At that point, Jim Penseyres, then 20, was officially discharged from the Marines. His fight, however, was just beginning.

Penseyres had reason to be bitter about his experience in Vietnam, as did so many other veterans who served there, but he never was. He says he can’t honestly remember being depressed about losing his leg.

From the day he got back home to Southern California, he set about resuming as normal a life as possible. He began going to college, got married and started a family and even resumed his favorite sport at the time, surfing.

And he began his fight to prove that a disabled person is disabled only by the restrictions he imposes on himself.

“Your disability is what you make of it,” he said as he relaxed in his comfortable San Juan Capistrano home. “The statement I’ve been trying to make is that there don’t have to be any limitations in your life, if you emphasize the positive and don’t search out and dwell on the negative.”

Penseyres has always done the former. He sees the positive in everything. He’s even optimistic about his chances in this year’s Race Across America, the grueling transcontinental, ultra-marathon bike race that begins today on the Huntington Beach Pier.

For a year, Penseyres, 38, has trained in preparation for this race, which has often proven to be too much for younger, top-conditioned athletes who have no handicaps.

But no matter. Penseyres plans to finish the 3,120.2-mile race and hopes to keep the championship in the family. His older brother, Pete, who won the race to Atlantic City last year in record time, is not competing this year.

“My goal is to finish and to do well,” he said. “I’m sure I’m not considered among the favorites because so many top riders are entered, but there are a lot of variables involved in the race, so everyone has a chance to win.”

Since 1971, Penseyres and his wife of 16 years, Diane, had ridden bikes for recreation. Then Pete Penseyres began to ride in endurance races, and soon, Jim began to get interested.

He can remember the day in 1983 when he determined that ultra-marathoning was for him.

“We were watching Pete race in that year’s Race Across America, and Pete’s wife, Joan, asked me, ‘Wouldn’t you like to do what Pete is?’

“And right away, I answered, ‘I’m afraid so.’ Since then, I’ve been dedicated to it.”

It may sound as if sibling rivalry got Jim Penseyres to take up ultra-marathoning, but he says another reason motivated him to do it--he wanted to apply his credo of overcoming disability to athletics.

“I’ve always felt that handicapped vets could compete as intense athletes against those who weren’t handicapped,” he said. “For years, I’ve watched guys ride in wheelchairs on Pacific Coast Highway, and they are really athletes.

“My primary motivation is to try and show vets and others who are disabled what a person with one leg can do. I don’t want them to remember my name, but I want them to remember that some guy with one leg rode his bike all the way across the United States.”

Penseyres would by lying if he told you that becoming a competitive ultra-marathoner has been all fun. His job as a machinist for the Southern California Edison Co. is demanding, and he enjoys time with his wife and two children, so budgeting time after work each day and on weekends for endurance training hasn’t been easy.

But for this race, Penseyres has made many sacrifices, and so has his family. He rides his bike to and from work, so he leaves early and comes home late. On Fridays of late, he would not even come home. Instead, he’d just pack up his bike for some distant destination and then head home Saturday night.

If you think that sounds crazy, wait until you hear about the race he’s doing all of this for. The Race Across America, which in its fourth year, is the ultimate test of strength, endurance--and sanity.

Today, 29 riders, among them Penseyres, will begin a trek through Orange County, to Corona and then along Interstate 10 headed toward Arizona. On his way to Atlantic City, Penseyres will encounter oppressive heat, probably some cold and rain, traffic, sharp inclines, insects that will try to nest in his bushy mustache and beard, numb hands, saddle sores and sleep deprivation (riders sleep, on average, less than two hours per day).

It sounds like a new form of capital punishment, but it’s what Penseyres has been looking forward to and making sacrifices for since his brother finished the course in 9 days, 13 hours and 13 minutes.

“I can see how some people think this race is crazy,” Penseyres said, “but most of the time, I don’t. I ran cross-country in high school, and to me, ultra-marathon bike racing is just an extension of endurance running.

“When I asked my wife if she’d support me the last year to be in this race and she said yes, that was it. We knew there would be hours of long training, that I’d be gone on weekends and that things wouldn’t get done around the house like they usually are. But that’s something we’ve just accepted.”

Penseyres had been riding 350 miles per week until the recent John Marino Open, the qualifying race for the Race Across America. After qualifying by finishing fourth, Penseyres tapered his training schedule and tried to catch up on his rest in preparation for Saturday.

But while he’s certain he’s in top physical condition, he says he can’t be certain he’s prepared for the mental challenge facing him.

“There’s just no way to prepare for that,” he said. “You don’t know what kind of strain will be on you until you make the ride. You know essentially what it takes, but I’ve talked and talked with my brother, and it just can’t be described how you deal with the lack of sleep and fatigue.”

All the riders but one in the race will have a support crew. Penseyres will have a team of eight behind him in a rented motor home. The team will help him navigate, decide when to rest, decide when to shower and decide when to eat while providing him with emotional support.

“I’m going to follow my brother’s system that he used last year,” Penseyres said. “He’s an engineer, and he used graphs and scales to figure out when are the best times to rest, eat, when to ride hard and when not to.

“Our whole system boils down to staying on the bike as long as possible. Some riders need a massage when they cramp up, but you can end up staying off the bike for 20 or 30 minutes.”

One of the worst enemies of the ultra-marathoner is boredom. Long spaces of open distance play havoc with a rider’s concentration. When that happens, he loses momentum and his fatigue usually increases.

Some riders have their support team sing to them or read to them to keep their concentration and spirit high, but Penseyres has his own method of doing so.

“When I ride, I keep to myself and try to think about positive things,” he said. “Sometimes, I fantasize about doing better, about riding harder and faster, and then I start doing it.

“Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy having my friends and family there for support, but what keeps me going on the road are my senses. I like to check out the scenery, look at the insects and snakes and lizards, smell the flowers and listen to the faraway conversations. These are things you never can do in a car because you’re encapsulated.”

When his body is aching, his stomach growling and willpower sinking, though, you can bet Penseyres will be ignoring the scenery, no matter how beautiful it is. But you can also bet that after all he’s endured and everything he’s overcome, he won’t quit, either.

“There will be sometimes out there when I’ll think that, yes, this race is nuts,” he said. “I’ll think that this is a race for a guy in his mid-20s and with two good legs.

“But then I’ll remember all the practice miles and everything I’ve done on top of working 40 hours a week to prepare for this race, and everything will be all right.”

‘I’ve always felt that handicapped vets could compete as intense athletes against those who weren’t handicapped.’

--Jim Penseyres