|A fabulous Army weekend!!Page 1 of 1 |
|If you didn't know by now I am a volunteer with the Army National Guard. It's a nice way to serve my country while working my regular job and make a few extra dollars for working one weekend a month. I am so proud to be part of a great organization like this that gives so much back to me.|
Lets take this weekend as a prime example.
Saturday was a wonderful day. I got there around 0800 and we really didn't do too much except sit through a couple of lectures by some local colleges telling us what kind of benefits we have. Seems as though the national guard pretty much will pay for us to go to college until we are dead. And then a new program next year allows us to transfer those funds to our spouses or children if we find that our minds have almost exploded from the amount of information that has been crammed in there.
After the congenial briefings, we all went to a local park we a nice church group was putting on a picnic in our honor. We spent the afternoon just eating all kinds of good things like BBQ burgers, hotdogs, pies, every kind of salad imaginable, beans, and tons and tons of cookies. Some of the guys played softball to work off that food, while my kids and I played a relaxing game of boci ball.
Of course during the whole picnic I had to show off my gorgeous bald head and rub it into those poor other people that while they have to cover their not-so-beautiful heads with unsightly hair, while I get to revel in the gloriousness, and freedom that comes with being slightly older and able to pull off a cranial extravaganza.
Yep, it was a great day.
Well, Saturday night was as fabulous since I had forgone wearing a hat in the 90 degree sun, now my head was slightly sunburnt, and by slightly I mean imagine a bright red tomato that is really, really ****ing angry and so sensitive that the mere touch of a hand on it to place some lotion causes it to swell up and try to expel the brain located within out through the nose.
Did you know it is possible to sleep with your head not actually touching the bed? Granted, you might have a stiff neck, but it works.
Sunday was an altogether different Army day.
Since I missed drill in May, when the rest of everyone did their yearly physical fitness test I now had to come in a little earlier then everyone else, except the other fatties who are required to work out every drill morning. So instead of the leisurely 0800 arrival time, I was flooring the jeep down the empty morning road constantly searching for flashing lights in my rearview mirror as I tried to make it there by 0600. After a sleepless night and an incredibly stiff neck, I found that the 0 in 0600 stands for 0 ****, I'm late!
One of the great things about being short and stocky is that I have short arms and a barrel chest, which in turn means that I don't have to don't have to go down nearly as far, or up nearly as high as everyone else when I am doing a push up. In fact I'm pretty sure I don't have to move my arms more then four inches in either directed to be counted as a full push up. So it was rather easy to pump out a whopping 60 pushups in less then 2 minutes, which is about double what I actually have to do.
I am a GOD!
Situps on the other hand are like God himself sitting on my chest and just daring me to blow a blood vessel out my fricken ass! I can do the required 38 I need to do for my age, but at the cost of not being able to get up off the floor without the help of at least 3 stout soldiers to help me up. And then it's an iffy thing.
Next is the two mile run!
Anyone who runs regularly knows that sense of euphoria you get when after you have run for a mile or so. They call it a runner's high. Your adrenaline starts pumping and you feel like you can run all day long.
Yeah, I didn't get that. Instead I got the runner's "oh my ****ing god I think I am gonna die" type of euphoria. Halfway through the run all I could think about was that last month a 45 year old man in the army in great physical shape who ran everyday, exercised and ate right, keeled over dead as he finished the crossing line.
I'm thinking by the time I got to the first mile: Crap, please let me die now and not as I finish the run. That would suck like hell to make it only to ****ing die for no reason.
About a mile and a half in I feel like my heart is just gonna burst out of my chest and splatter the guy that is running next to me. Serve that young **stard right for trying to keep pace with me.
The last 100 yards I decide to sprint it out, or if you are watching from the sidelines it probably looked more like a coughing, wheezing, hacking headlong stumble to the finish.
Thank you marlboro and camel for all the years you have given me!
Now you with think that with my physical fitness test done that the rest of my day would go pretty good.
Guess what, there little soldier today is the day for our annual physical by doctors and dentists to make sure that if we go to war you aren't gonna keel over dead, have some disease or generally make the army have to do more paperwork. And here's the best part: Since you are over 40 years old, you not only get the regular physical that all the other soldiers get, but you also get some special treatment from the doctors.
Yep, you guessed it. For years the army has been metaphorically ****ing you up the ass, but now that you turned 40, once a year the army is going to LITERALLY **** you up the ass. They hide it with little words like "prostate exam", and "colonoscopy", but it works out to be the same feeling in the end.
I was fortunate enough to have a nice young black doctor from North Carolina with fingers about as big around as beer cans, stick those things up my bum and feel around seeing if he could pull a small child out of me. And the sad part is that he didn't even buy me dinner first, although I could have sworn he whispered in my ear during the exam, and that there was some faint romantic music playing somewhere in the background. I kept looking for the scented candles, but I think he had those pretty well hidden.
What a nice guy! I think he really liked visiting Idaho and seeing all the pretty little white men here and retaliating for all the abuse his people have endured in this country for the last couple of centuries.
And then if that wasn't enough I got to spend the rest of my day putting together all the paperwork the doctors had collected and make several copies and reorganize the files into a semblance of order.
I was lucky enough to be almost the last person at the armory because I had to stay until almost 1900 (that's 7:00 pm for those less associated with how the army counts hours). Needless to say, by the time I got home from my 13 hour day I really wasn't in the mood to do more then collapse on the couch and cry myself to sleep!
You know after a wonderful weekend like that, I can hardly wait to see what next month's drill is going to be like!