It’s 7 a.m. on Los Angeles Marathon day. The sun is coming up, lighting an American flag hanging over the road. I’ve been excited about this day for months, but I’m not running. I’m standing, actually, in black boots shiny enough for me to see my face — the hard-won result of my buffing and polishing for an hour the day before. My uniform is tucked in and aligned, making me think back to the morning a couple of months ago when my advisor ordered my academy class to write a paper on the importance of grooming standards and timeliness. A…