We were supposed to start running on Wednesday but the weather hasn’t allowed it. We do the step tape for an hour every other day, and we have been speed walking on the alternate days to get prepared for running. As much as I fear running, I have been excited to see how far I can go, but now we have to wait until Monday for our next chance.
Getting in shape has been tough. When I got to St. Cloud, the first time I did anything for exercise was 35 minutes of softball (only five minutes of actually doing anything) and I could hardly walk for three days. Now I can do the step twice, about 55 minutes of constant motion. It’s a great work out. I started using 1 pound weights and I couldn’t believe how heavy they felt afterwards.
I’m sitting in a chair next to my bunk feeling drained. I couldn’t estimate how many miles we’ve logged marching and walking to various places to clear brush.
At one point we had to run a half mile wearing our full-length khaki uniform, boots, coveralls, gloves, wool cap, and hard hat. The whole time all I could think about was that I had to take a %$*#)@. Thankfully I made it back in time.
After our weekly haircut we ate lunch, then went out for drill and ceremony for two hours. Marching, counter column march, rear march, left oblique, right oblique. It’s really hard. I’m pretty good at it now, some people in our 16-man squad just don’t seem to care. So we argue, bicker, yell. And in the end we’ve somehow grown closer.
Some of them won’t make it. Some of them will never care about anything in life. So I have to focus on me.
So here I am in my chair. Exhausted, quiet, challenged, and hopeful. Time for dinner.
My 80-year-old mother wanted to send Vince some money. She sends each grandchild a card at Easter and other holidays, with $10 in it. I read off the two addresses, twice. One for sending Vince the card, another for sending him the money order, which would cost a couple bucks.
She called me later and asked me to re-read all the information because she couldn’t keep it straight. I typed it and emailed it to her, thinking that would be clearer.
But she sent the money order in the card, so it all came back. So I explained, again, how she couldn’t send ANYthing with the money order. She had to mail the card to a different address. Why? I don’t know, mom. I don’t know. You just have to do it that way.]