Part 6.

Another week has passed, and another day commences;
The long and difficult path has yet to cease, but rather become harder and harder as time passes by.
Work is just that, work. And a lot of it.
I've been put in charge of physical training for my platoon; on top of that, I've been put in a position where I'm under a man who failed to complete the MAI Course. My faith in the system is constantly being put to the test; this is just another bump that I'm seeing. I can't respect a guy who pretty much quit going through the same hardships that myself and others had gone through. He blames other reasons; his arm got hurt. Both my arms were put in armbars where I didn't have time to tap; and they went the other way, however not in the course. But before, when all that happened, I didn't let that stop me from doing what needed to be done for my physical training. So what gives him authority over me? Rank. That's it. I'm older than him, to boot; and he's picking up a rocker next month. If the roles were reversed, what would I do? Relenquish command? No, that would be unbecoming. However, I wouldn't micromanage; that shows a lack of leadership. I would guess that the best course of action would be to call upon my more experienced Marines for guidance. And not complain when they have something hard for the others to do; that would pretty much make me a weak bitch.
Those that outrank me have called me a "good Marine". I can't just be "good". I have to become the "best". There's no other way. So despite whatever pain or quit I might feel, I have to press on. And keep pressing.

Perhaps I should apply for this MECEP package early.
HET or MECEP...dunno what to do.

Part 5.

After two more hell-like weeks, I succeeded where others have failed. I have pressed on, while hungry, tired, and in pain. I kept going. And here I stand, a certified USMC Martial Arts Instructor. I found that within myself, as I tell myself to keep going, I will, do, and I've done.

While going through the "Gladiator" and "Immortal Braveheart" martial arts field exercises, and while going through the last cohesion room, I have seen myself press on through the pain, not giving up. I made a bet with myself during this time; the only time I quit is when I fall. Not literally, but in a metaphoric sense; it's when I can't get up is when I quit. And I can always get back up.

"If you're not dead, you just quit," is a statement in big black lettering at Camp Horno's pool...which is something I'm trying to live by. That statement pretty much got me through everything, not to mention the backing from my squad, instructors, and classmates.

My point being is that you can always press on. You can always keep going. You can always accomplish more, as long as you set your mind to it, and not let it fail you. Through hunger, fatigue, pain...all that means is that as long as you press on through it, your mind becomes stronger and you can't fail unless you die or pass out. (it helps if you drink a lot of water)

Part 4.

So, training day 6, 7, and 8 passed.
We did something off the wall for physical training today.
Run with the bone to the Obstacle Course, do the O course 3 times, then did a long, long, LONG session of different exercises from station to station (in which there were many of them). Despite my weakness, we pulled through. At the end of it, we had to run up the big hill again, shout our squad, class number and run back down the hill. All this physical training for about 4 and a half hours. Technically 5, including our warmup. In a flak jacket. We (my squad), WON. 1st time winning a squad competition to which we could give the bone away. The other squad had trouble with it. We didn't. Working together as a team is one of the hardest, most painful, and rewarding experiences in doing these exercises. We kicked ass.
I'm in the process of unwinding and caring for my injuries at the moment (which is something I'm fighting through), and I'm ok.

What's to take from here?
Adversity makes a person view their true selves. Make it your best self.

Part 3.

Ok, I'm back from training day 5. We (the class) had done an event known as the "cohesion room," in which we felt all sorts of pain. But we came together as a squad and finished it out. I was screaming at the top of my lungs. SCREAMING. I had puddles of sweat underneath where I exercised. I was tired, the fear left me, and highly motivated so that I could do one more round (it was two "rounds" lasting about an hour and 15 minutes each of non-stop exercises with 14 or so stations). At the end, I started counting off reps, utilizing my "Marine Corps command voice," sounding completely motarded but it helped. The men around me counted with me. It was glorious.
And at the end of it all, I could keep going. WE could keep going.

More to post later.

Part 2.

Today was leg day. Meaning sprint up an extremely steep hill, come back down, run backwards up said hill, come back down, and then fireman's carry someone on your back while sprinting up said hill. It was tough. After the 2nd set, we all sprinted up again, but at the bottom, we had to have a race between the two squads. My squad brought the log up to the trail, so we were kinda already worn out by the time the "hill drills" started, but after the two sets, we were all worn out and sweaty, yet ready to complete the final two remaining sets. And so, we raced. One big carry/hill race all the way up, with one guy at the end to sprint. I carried a guy about my weight up the first part of the hill, and we changed over at the cones. I worked. I sprinted. The only thing running through my mind was "FIGHT!!!!". Which is the way it should have been. I put out. I felt strong. I felt motivated. There's no better feeling in the world than putting forth your best effort into something and finishing strong. My squad lost the race, so we kept the "bone" (log). Now...we have pride in that damn thing. It's almost as if we don't want to get rid of it (though we try with all our might). So we ran back with it, up over many hills and streets, stopping middle of the way to exercise with it. When we were about to pick it up to run over a large hill that my team didn't climb, another team wanted to do it. I refused. My team had it. And so we did.

After all this, we grappled today. I had fun. I went up against a kid smaller than me (so I didn't use a lot of strength, just technique...right after that I went up against a staff sergeant instructor whom I have a lot of respect for. He outweighed me by at least 30 lbs., though shorter, was stocky and had a low center of gravity. Even after they called time, I wanted to keep going. And so when I had my next guy directly after, same thing. Not a lot of strength, a lot of technique. All I remember with that match is that we kept going until the timer ran out.
After almost everyone had gone through, a Major was the last to do so. I liked this guy. Not only was he in my squad, but he sweated and had as much trouble as I did. But he kept going. I guess he had two of the legendary "strengths"; "Old man" and "Dad" strength. I refereed both of his first two bouts, and grappled with him on his last. What a really strong guy. Me and him went at it. Full force. He didn't quit, and I wasn't about to, either. I knew he was tired, and was trying some moves on me (which I got out of due to recent experience), but his strength didn't quit. When the timer guy called out "time", I seriously wanted to keep going.
We later trained together on a few moves. He later called me out, stating to me "If there's anyone here who can do this, it's you." Me, a supposed weak link...that felt pretty good.

Oh yeah, I quit smoking today. Smoking, mind you...I'm curbing my addiction with dip. And, it works. I don't want to smoke. All I'm working for will be for nothing if I start up again.

For humor...this is the man I've been training with for the past several months.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LhT2SnVdYZE
And he's the LAST guy you want to get in a fight with. Seriously, he's one of the baddest mofos on the planet.

Part 1.

Over the last week I've made a few extremely stupid mistakes. First, the highly unfair and selfish vent that I posted shouldn't have been said, nor should it have been available to the public eye.
My beautiful, strong, independent and caring wife has definitely opened my eyes, as well as give me a few things to think about.
The things that she asks for aren't a big of a deal as I made them out to be...what was really the problem was my own mental weakness. I've blamed my problems and shortcomings on a lot of things, and haven't really spent the time to look at myself as the source of the problems that I'm facing. It takes willpower to do work. It takes willpower to do homework. It takes willpower to get things accomplished, and accomplished right. The lack of willpower can just bring it down. It's not anyone else's fault but my own. And so, I'm taking steps to strengthen my mental and character disciplines.
Also, the recent experiences I've had through the MAIC (Martial Arts Instructor Course) gave me some eye openers as well...
I've become somewhat of a weak-link in my squad, due to pain, fear, inexperience and plain-old being out of shape. Through the HB (Heartbreaker) course, my body gassed out on me more than a couple times. I was the odd man out on several occasions, but I still made it. I could have given more. My only regret is that I didn't (as much). The losing squad (as there are two squads) has to carry around this huge log called "the bone". I could have sprinted at the end. I could have passed out at the finish line. What was pushing me along was someone else, the squad leader. I should not have been so damn weak, when everyone else is giving their all.

However, all that fear and discouragement went away with one thing:
It became clear to me about 2 hours ago in which all that fear went away with accomplishing one thing that I was nervous about: free-sparring with the Martial Arts Instructor Trainer (MAIT or IT for short). I was up against a sergeant who's obviously been boxing for a while, but I held my own, and through some pointers, upped my game quite a bit. Sure I got hit, and I got hit a lot; but I'm still standing. I'm not dead. Hell, after the sparring bout, I wanted to keep going. In all honesty, I wish I could have kept going, but it was someone else's turn. It kinda got me after I me and the guy were exchanging blow after blow. I didn't step out of the way; he hit, I hit, he hit, I hit; repeat process several times.

So now, I have a new resolve. Don't stop. I can't stop. There's no reason to stop. 12 more training days? I can hack it. Who says I can't? I'm not going to let that voice telling me to quit/rest/take a break to have it's way.

What am I going to do now?
Take a shower, wash my clothes, eat dinner, drink water, and clean a bathroom.

Lesson of the day: Don't let fear or mental weakness ruin your life. It almost did mine.