This is my first post from Cherry point, NC.
I checked in last night around 11:30. I hadn't eaten in 13 hours, slept in 20, and the gas that builds up inside me on plane flights, the most inopportune time to rip one, inexplicably would not go away. I was going to deal with the hunger and just rack out, but coming back from the empy vending machine the cute latino chick asked if I wanted to go to mcdonalds. It was past hours, we were basically sneaking out. something about it was rather exciting. Maybe that I was in a new state, time zone, base and room, just met this girl, and was sneaking out for...bigmacks and fries. Anyway she showed me around base for a bit and told me where the good things were. The point I'm getting at is that the base has hiking and camping trails, a pistol/rifle range, and an olympic size swimming pool(this being the relevant part) the pool provides the perfect cross training/recovery tool ever available to me. so I will be swimming laps like the old days 2 or 3 times a week hopefully. It may be the solution to many of my problems. HOORAY AQUA JOGGING!
ran 5 miles, felt bad, but the new base, cooler air and setting sun made it worthwhile.

Closing Time

This is the last post from Pensacola, FL. In roughly 5 hours I will break the surly bonds of gravity and take wing toward yet another temporary home. My tenure here has been a mix of emotions; happiness, sadness, absolute rage and everything in between. Some of it was magic, some of it was tragic, but I had a good time all the way. My running here has been anything but consistent, I didn't train for or run any marathons, much to my dismay. The best I could accomplish was to run to Alabama, which in my defense still wins me accolades from new Marines I have never met. I also have proven myself, time and again, to be the fastest man in AMS-1(roughly 800 Marines) and likely the fastest on base. Regardless, I did not run consistently, which has caused some minor injuries(for lack of a better word) I feel that I have only maintained my ability, barely. And I wanted to be a much stronger runner by this point. With 6 months and only a handful of good runs behind me, I have to wonder what I did wrong, what I did right, and how to better myself next time. I suppose the double edged sword that is the Marine Corps manifests itself in this instance as a fresh start everytime I go somewhere new. I won't lie, I'm nervous. It's like the first day of high school everytime. But Now I have a marathon lined up, I have better expectations for the weather, I have higher expectations for myself, and ultimately that is what drives me. Here's to beginnings...


"For what it's worth, it was worth all the while."

I gave in. I gave up, I gave out.

To a degree anyway. My running was stagnating, I began to hate running here, it's just too damn hot. I began to dread running, then I began to stop running. I even had that feeling of "ugh, not again" on monday mornings when i had to run that same 3 mile track to defend my PFT title. I've been running that course every monday for 6 months, not including the times I ran it on my own randomly. I figure I ran that track about 40 times. I needed something new. So I switched to the treadmill. At first I felt somewhat ashamed, I hate the mill. Why stare at a TV when the world is right outside waiting to be discovered? why? Maybe because the asphalt is hot enough to melt my soles.

I've had 3 good runs on it though. I have to set the incline at at a few degrees, and my hand punches the stop button frequently, but I managed some good miles, more than if I'd gone outside probably.

Compromise is the name of the game I guess.

Pain

I am currently suffering from a condition I long knew about, but never really gave much thought to.
Coach told us from the start that runners often succumb to the glitz, excitement and free goodies of the marathon expos to the point where they spend several hours on their feet, on hard concrete and end up having tired, sore legs for the race the next day. I listened to what he said because he had run marathons before and I hadn't, I deferred to his expert opinion and never really gave it a second thought. I never spent more than an hour at the expos. Get in, get out, get on with life. I knew what it would do to me, but I didn't understand what it would do.
Now I understand.
Last weekend I had duty section. I can't leave base, wear civilian clothes or drink(though I did so a bit of the latter) Duty section involves, primarily, standing in formation, on concrete, for at least an hour, followed by walking up and down the halls making sure everyone is working for no less than 30 minutes. We have 2 of these formations per day. (3 hours on my feet, not counting walking to the chow hall, the NEX, portside or standing around at the gym) On sunday after our first formation I went for a run, 12 miles. I try to run on grass whenever possible, but it's pretty difficult. That evenings formation was different. After the 1:30 of bullshit, we formed up again. The SDO didn't like the cleaning job we did. So we did it again. (45 minutes) then we formed up again. (30 minutes) then he released us. We thought we were done for the night. The we heard we had to form up again, apparently the Marines who cleaned the smoke pit were smoking while doing it. The SDO caught wind and got pissed off. So we formed up a third time, but since it was random and not everyone got the message guess who had to run around the barracks looking for people. Also, since we all just switched rooms, nobody knew where anybody was, so I ended up walking up and down the same halls 3 or 4 times. (1 hour later) everyone is outside, the SDO decideds to be the Drill Instructor he used to be, and we commence 'fuck fuck' games, a meaningless waste of time made to make us feel stupid.(1 hour) We form up again, he talks for 30 minutes. Then 3 Marines are found in civvies, coming from the mall, Marines in our duty section. So we get another lecture(30 minutes) and play more fuck fuck games (1 hour) By now it's around 2400, we all missed room checks, we've been standing for several hours, everyone is pissed off at the 3 Marines, and we all just want to hit the rack. Finally he lets us go. Monday morning PT is cancelled, Wednesday we have a PFT-I handily defeat all comers-Friday is a 5 mile run with the Navy. 5 miles is nothing, I shit 5 miles. But running with the navy means a very slow run, a jog really, I can walk this fast. So 5 miles which could have been done in 30 minutes gets dragged out to 50 minutes.
The point is, after the duty section fiasco, my legs hurt. My arches, my knees, everything. It hurts to stand. No joke. I am in pain. I'm still running and doing all right, but when I'm just walking or standing it hurts, my feet are constantly shifting, looking for those 30 mseconds of comfort before they shuffle again.
So take it from me, dont stand more than you have to, especially on hard surfaces. I put in the pain and frustration so you don't have to.