Not sure what to say

Many of you are my friends on Facebook, twitter, and in real life, so my blogging absence probably hasn't been too noticeable. I have been going through such a trying time since November, I practically swore off this thing forever. I hurt my knee so badly, I suffered such a setback, and I sank into a terrible depression for about 3 months. My feelings are somewhat ongoing, and I am overwhelmed with a lack of being able to control my mood swings or my eating habits once I give in to a "cheat meal." It's like I think I'm eating the last cookies in existence, so I have to enjoy them. All I end up doing is making myself feel worse because unhealthy food does terrible things to my body. Case in point, right now I have swollen ankles, intestinal problems, and puffy face, all from a binge this weekend. I go through periods of dedication and motivation, and I am very strong with making good choices, then I get burned out on salad and fish, and I "eat whatever I want," because I can. I am usually dedicated to going to the gym or walking for weeks at a time, then my knee hurts or I am so exhausted from school, that I do what I have ALWAYS done- I try to ease the pain of being me by eating. I haven't been able to go to the gym like I used to because I work full time, and am taking 9 credit hours. Just walking has been agony until as of late. I am finally starting to walk 3 miles in an hour. It's depressing to me how much I used to run and how conditioned I was getting to be. I am very annoyed with the few trouble spots on my body, namely the "lumpy" sides of my outer thighs and my abdomen. I think about HOW I got to this size, weight, and body type, while I remember that I was 200 lbs just 2 years ago, so fluctuating between 155-160 is OK. I wish I could go back to the 140 lb me in 1999 and say, "HEY... do some exercise, lift weights, and eat better, because in 10 years, your body isn't gonna bounce back as easily."

The last few weeks have been especially hard, but nothing tops last Thursday when I blew my transmission. Unfortunately, my first reaction and action was to drown my sorrows in food and retail therapy. I still need to work on my coping skills. It's very hard to open up and be real about this, but if I lie in a blog, I am just lying to myself.
I am writing this as a bag of M&Ms sit on my desk. I am suffering from PMS and probably should just step away from the computer, but it is difficult, as writing has always been my outlet.

Komen Race for the Cure

10/10/10 was a monumental day in my fitness progression. I ran 3.2 miles in 00:29:43. That, my friends, is a miracle in itself. In 1996, I graduated Army Basic Training and Advanced Individual Training, despite having Class II and III stress fractures in both legs, knees, and hips, and a knee that I had dislocated 3 times during training. I permanently injured my left knee 14 years ago, and never thought I'd run again. Consecutive years later, I was given an alternate PT test for Army Reserves. Instead of the 2 mile run 00:18:48, I had to do the 2.5 mile walk in 00:30:00. Fast forward to 2010; my fitness ability has reached levels greater than it's ever been, even while in the Army. Despite my love for the Army, I never LOVED doing PT or working out. It was a pain, literally, and a punishment. I decided in September 2010 that I was going to run the Komen Race instead of walk. I started increasing my training and every day ran further and further without stopping.

Race day was exciting. I was nervous, but I tried to focus. I stretched my legs for an hour before we hit the trail. I meditated and prayed. I relaxed, and mentally prepared myself. We started off slow and steady, with Jerry and his dad running behind me. I never faltered. I never even thought of quitting. I was thrilled that my body (especially my knees) didn't give out on me, or cause me pain. As I ran, I thought of my friend Rae who died of breast cancer. I thought of my friend Beth, who texted me right before the race, "DO IT FOR THE FAT GIRLS!" I thought of my dad, the former runner, who gave me so much strength when I was in Army Basic Training, and I thought of my husband who has been so supportive throughout my transformation. The comaradere was amazing. Seeing the Survivors Parade before the race made me cry, and I choked back sobs as they walked through the pink balloon archway. I can't wait to run again next year!!!

New Insight

I am an "avid tweeter," as my bio states. I tweet A LOT with my fellow NKOTB fan friends and we discuss everything and anything, and not always related to NKOTB. Among those friends, I have developed a following of sorts with my daily food and exercise tweets. Lots of people started telling me that I inspire them with my informative tweets and that they look forward to reading them. So I decided, why not create a twitter account JUST about my weight loss journey, and hopefully my friends on my NKOTB account will follow me on that new one? So, I did it. @myinnerstrength was born. I have about 100 followers, and 90% of them are my friends from my @donniedollgirl account. The rest are *dieticians*, *trainers*, and *fellow healthy living-weight loss enthusiasts*!! I tapped into a fountain of endless knowledge when I started following as many fitness accounts as I could find! While this journey towards wellness within is just beginning, I know that I am NOT an expert, and I am learning as I go. I truly realize, I have always loved teaching and instructing people. I don't want to let anyone down and I like being accountable to people other than myself. Having this outlet makes me feel a greater responsibility about what I am doing, and how I am doing it. With that said, I always accept advice and information from others. I am open to learn as much as I possibly can, and share what I know.

On another note, this past Sunday, I decided to go on a bike ride in the Albuquerque bosque. I rode an EPIC 20 miles in 1:45!!!! A personal best for me. My last best mileage was 13 miles in 1:30 (on a trail that has many hills). Completing 20 miles (on a straight away) was incredibly exhilarating. My next goal is 24 miles.

Change Does the Body Good

I have been a member of my gym for over a year now. It is the type of place that borders on resort type amenities. We have the racquetball privileges, for when my hubby feels like playing, there's of course the pool, and all the usual gym equipment. I have begun to realize, what my money is actually going towards every month ($97, mind you!), is the "healthy happy hour" every week, the "family day" BBQs, the luaus, the big screen TV in the weight room, the shampoo/conditioner and folded towels in the locker room, and the "let's all get together and watch a movie at the pool," evenings. Um. A whole lot of crap I have never taken part in. And a waste of money. As much as I am wishing to train for a triathlon, I know I WILL not swim in the fall or winter. My muscles do not respond well being submerged in icy cold water, surrounded by cold air. The only reason I have been keeping our membership at the current gym is because of my supposed desire to have the use of a pool at my disposal.

Last week, hubby informed me he saw a sign for Planet Fitness: "$10 down, $10 a month." Sounds too good to be true, right? NOPE!! I went inside the brand new location (right down the street from our house), and was happily surprised by the beautiful new equipment, the relaxed, low-key environment, and the "NO JUDGEMENT ZONE," signs everywhere. First thing I noticed was the FIFTY treadmills in the facility!! Wow. I was greeted by down to earth employees, who didn't act like their only job is to play the "numbers game," - aka, quota, like I experienced at my old gym, and at the physical therapist's a few years ago. Planet Fitness has several different machines I have never used before, and there's a personal trainer who is available to help ANYONE who asks. My old gym had trainers who would ONLY speak to or help their OWN clients. PF also is against the "meat market" and the "lunks" at other gyms. They are all about you fitting in and feeling comfortable with your workout.

Since last Friday, I started a new routine at a new gym, and I feel great. I am now doing mixed HIIT, with flat surface running, uphill sprinting, as well as uphill walking (15% incline) up to 2 miles, for 30 minutes, and an hour of weight lifting in one session. I LOVE the new (to me) machines for obliques, abs, and glutes. I am proud to say I have been doing assisted pull ups and using proper technique (keeping my back straight) during the row exercise. I mention this because I saw a guy using improper technique and who was probably gonna throw his back out at any moment. I wanted to say something, but I hesitate to sound like a goody two shoes. I minded my own business and continued to remember the old saying about weight lifting: "quality not quantity," and made sure to keep proper form, and fully extend my arms or legs in the exercise, and get all of what I can out of it.

Today was my day to have ONE cheat, moreover, metabolism re boost meal. I ate at Bob's Burgers, and had a Dairy Queen Blizzard afterwards. As much as I thought I was looking forward to it, I felt AWFUL after eating it. Not mentally, as in guilt, but physically. My body reacts to "bad food" so differently now, and it just doesn't have the same appeal once I actually do eat it. Think about it like this: I only had ONE meal off of my "regular" food list this week, and I couldn't wait to get back to my pure, wholesome food. I know, though, eating off my diet once a week is as important as sticking to it the rest of the week, and changing up my exercise regimen often. I have learned that as easy as it is to get comfortable with the same routine or foods, it's just as important to "shock the system," with a meal that's totally off the diet, or with exercise that's completely different from what I've been doing. Especially with as long as I have been doing this; I have to deviate from the "norm" about every month.

Here's to looking forward to more great PF experiences and continued improvement in my health and fitness!!

Don't Cheat your Body

"DON'T CHEAT YOUR BODY!" was something the Drill Sergeants loved to scream at me. I especially loved how DS Diaz-de-Leon ordered me to immediately go into the push up position whenever she stepped foot in the room, or into our formation. This was, of course, for my own good. I found it difficult to comprehend what I now know about health and fitness, as I was going through Drill Sergeant forced and induced agony and pain, and in the beginning, I was OUT OF SHAPE. At the time, I was struggling. But by not ALWAYS giving it my all, I was cheating my body. By "just wanting it to end," by not embracing the exercise for what it was, and by not pushing myself over the threshold, I was punishing my body. In the midst of it all, I couldn't see the difference. However, it is very easy to want to do the bare minumum when you have Drill Sergeants constantly on your case, you are practically dying of heat stroke, and you are beyond exhausted. As time went on, and I built up stamina, strength, and skills, I began to understand; if you don't push yourself, you never improve. If you don't do more than you did the last time, you don't make progress. If you don't test yourself mentally, you will never learn discipline.

Have you ever had a (temporary) slacker attitude during your workout and give it less than your all? While lifting weights, have you ever decided to skip the last set because you are bored, tired, hot, "not feeling it?"? How about when you are running and you decide to walk the rest of the way because you "just don't wanna?"? I'll admit I have had episodes like these. In those times of weakness, I remember what my Drill Sergeants used to say, and I quickly change my attitude. My most recent "don't cheat your body" moment came today when I had already ridden 10 miles and thought, "I'm going to take the shortcut home." I tried to justify it because I HAD already ridden 10 miles. For a split second, I thought "I'm done." But I only had a 1/8 of a mile left to go to finish the trail before I would turn around anyway for the home stretch. The "I'm hot, tired, hungry, and sore" part of me wanted to quit. Luckily THAT part of me isn't the dominant part!! I remembered, "DON'T CHEAT YOUR BODY, CHAVEZ!" and I pushed on. I beat my all time record and rode 12.82 miles in 1:25, and burned 702 calories.

Caloric Intake- Need to Step it UP

I recently came across the caloric intake formula used by the Insanity program. My friend Yvette sent it to me, and I did the algebra to figure out what I should be consuming. I HAD been working out 6x a week, up until last week, since my year long gym contract ended, and money's been tight with the new house, I haven't renewed it. I have been doing 10 mile bike rides instead, though; I am building up my cardio stamina on the bike in preparation for the triathlon next year. I am going to renew my gym membership in September so I can continue to swim and lift weights, and ride my bike at home.

Calorie Formula
Energy required to maintain your current weight:
655 + (4.35 x weight in pounds) + (4.7 x height in inches) - (4.7 x age in yrs)=
Basal Energy Expenditure
Now multiply that # by 1.55 for 3-5 days of exercise or 1.77 for 6-7 days a week
Finally, deduct 500 calories a day for weight loss

Here's the formula with my numbers plugged in:
655 + (4.35 x153) + (4.7 x 64) - (4.7 x 32) = 1470.95 Basal Energy Expenditure (the amount of calories I need to sustain life and current weight, without factoring in exercise)

1470 x 1.77= 2603.5815 - 500 = 2103 (The amount of calories I need to sustain life and lose weight at the current rate I am exercising)

What??? This is news to me. I have been eating between 1400-1600 calories. This definitely explains why I have plateaued. I have been losing inches, gaining muscle, and getting smaller in physical size, but the weight on the scale definitely has been stagnant. My body thinks I am starving. It is not going to allow me to lose any more weight unless I feed it more!

The increase of calories doesn't mean I get to "eat whatever I want," or down a bunch of junk food. The concept is simple: increase the amount of complex carbohydrates and wholesome foods I already do eat: sweet potatoes, cauliflower, broccoli, asparagus, cabbage, whole grain breads, pasta, rice, and oats.

I finally bought steel cut oats and quinoa from the health food store last week. They are both protein-filled hot grain cereals and are delicious. I will NEVER again be able to eat rolled oats, or "instant oatmeal" again. It's unbelievable the difference whole grains make when you get used to them. I have been being extremely conscious of including and increasing the complex carbs in my meals, and have been doing well, except for these last few days. I seem to get out of my routine on Fridays when I am off work, and on the weekends, where I either don't eat enough, or I eat too many simple carbs or high sugar foods. When I do that, I notice immediate water weight gain. However, I have kept the 50 lbs off for over a year now. Monday - Thursday I do very well because I am at work, I pack my lunch, and I make a point to eat every 2 hours. Here's a sample of what I have been eating:

8 am: Steel cut oats and strawberries & blueberries w/Truvia
10 am: Oikos Greek yogurt and raspberries w/Truvia
12 pm: a plum or 1/2 c cherries
1 pm: spring greens, carrots, snow peas, broccoli slaw salad w/tuna, sunflower seeds and ranch dressing. Sweet potato w/olive oil based butter, Truvia and cinnamon.
3 pm: 24 raw almonds, whole wheat toast w/almond or sun butter
5 pm: work out and protein shake w/almond milk
7 pm Dinner: varies chicken, fish, 97% lean ground beef w/cauliflower, asparagus or brussels sprouts, & 1/2 c brown rice

Notably, this weekend, (during the meals I didn't fall off the wagon), I have been eating 4 or 5 egg white omelettes w/cheese, bell pepper, onion and turkey bacon, w/ a bowl of steel cut oats w/strawberries and blueberries, and Oikos greek yogurt for breakfast, tuna w/hardboiled egg on whole wheat and flax bread for lunch w/ a side of carrots and cherries, and steak w/sweet potato for dinner.

Today, I am going to the baseball game and will likely eat a hot dog. Tomorrow is my niece's 1st birthday, and I will probably eat some cake. But it's ok. I am not a yo-yo dieter. I changed my LIFE and habits. It's ok to indulge a little from time to time.

On a side note: the blood work results from my physical came in on Friday. All tests came back NORMAL. This is a blessing. In May '08 when I had my physical, I was borderline high blood pressure, borderline high cholestrol, and pre-diabetic!! In '09, all my results came back normal, as well, due to 20 lb weight loss at the time.

In the Beginning, I was a Soldier

I joined the Army Reserves when I was 17. I grew up seeing my grandpa in the Army National Guard, and I always wanted to serve. I have always been a patriot. The Army was going to give me what I never had in my life: regimen. I never had problems with authority and I was a fairly self-disciplined person, so I figured I would have no problems in Basic Training. I love America beyond belief. It was a dream come true to serve. When I was sworn in, I knew that I was willing to die for our country.


HELL ON EARTH





No one can prepare you, no matter if they have been there or not, for what happens in Army Basic Training. The mind cannot wrap around what is done to you physically and mentally, unless you are there, and there's no way out. Having the right mindset is key. If you are there for the wrong reasons, you are going to fail. If you don't really want to be there, but you are being forced to because it's either that or go to jail, you will most likely go through training several times. If you think you are going to see the world and get free college, you may not make it. Success in the Army is determined by how strong you are in your mind and heart. Home of the Brave, indeed.



RECEPTION








[I remember seeing this sign from the highway as we were being bussed from St. Louis airport to FLW. I cannot describe the fear I felt at this moment.]



Usually that word implies "feeling welcome, wanted, or taken care of," hahahahaha, in the Army's case, Reception is the place where you are herded and shuffled around in a scary, sterile-looking place, and are subjected to a lot of mass confusion and you learn the Army's motto first hand: HURRY UP AND WAIT. In Reception, you get your shots, your uniforms, your dental and medical exams, and spend a lot of time being scared to death. Lack of sleep after a few days at Reception start off the 9 weeks of exhaustion that are ahead of you.

SHAKEDOWN

I will never look at cattle trucks the same. As soon as we were in-processed and divided up into our platoons, our Drill Sergeants came to Reception to pick us up. They had cattle trucks waiting for us, and we all packed in there like sardines. Of course, we didn't see HER til it was too late. A crazy looking female Drill Sergeant was hiding in the corner of the cattle truck, and she started screaming and cussing worse than any man I had ever heard. Our arrival wasn't received very well. We were told how horrible we were, what low-life pieces of crap we were, how we were civilian scum and didn't deserve to be in her presence. Of course, this is how they do things. The psychology behind military training is: They break you down in order to build you up. We were dropped off at a gym and all around us were Drill Sergeants screaming orders that were foreign to my ears, and descending upon us like a swarm of angry bees. Shakedown is a term where you have to be accountable for everything in your possession, to include your duffel bag, etc., and this occasion usually happens when you are first entering training. You literally have to dump out all of your worldly possessions, and EVERYTHING gets inspected, while the pack of rabid Drill Sergeants stomp around, scream and make you completely confused.

HOME SWEET HOME





Ft. Leonard Wood, Missouri. Soon to be known as "Ft. Lost in the Woods" and "Ft. Misery," was now my new home. After arriving at our company's barracks, we were subjected to insane rituals of running up and down 10 flights of stairs carrying about 80 lbs on our backs, then getting "smoked" outside in extreme heat, and back into the torture chamber inside. [ARMY TERMINOLOGY: Being SMOKED is when you forced into extreme exercise, physical torture of all varieties; mostly in outrageous, uncomfortable, and impossible situations. This would include doing push-ups, flutter kicks, "front, back, go," on pavement, in dirt, and in the rocks, for horribly long lengths of time, usually with someone screaming in your face, as your muscles fail.] Upon returning to our barracks, we thought all was well when the DS sat us down and talked like normal human beings, to give us a sort of "for housekeeping purposes" introduction to Basic Combat Training. We thought, "oh, whew, maybe it's going to be ok." That thought was short lived, and we knew hell had begun when the Drill Sergeant purposely closed all the windows in the classroom and began smoking us again. Mind you it was summer of '96 in Missouri. Does the term "slipping around on tile floor in your own (and others seemingly) sweat" mean anything to you? All of what was happening to us was painful. Tiring. Excruciating. I knew there was a purpose; however, it didn't make "exercise" or "working out" enjoyable or fun the way it is for me now. I had the OMG-a-crazy-man-is-screaming-inches-from-my-face, so I better do it motivation. All I could do was think about when the hell was I going to get out of there and get back home??? After hours of torture, the Drill Sergeants let up. I settled into my bunk as best I could, and prayed for the best. The next 9 weeks would make or break me.




STRIPPED





[this is not my exact bunk, nor is it my photo- I do not take credit for it- but it's very similar to how I lived, and I do believe it was taken at FLW]



In a matter of days, I had lost my identity and freedom. I was dressed just like everyone else in a uniform, and I wasn't allowed to wear makeup or earrings. I had lost my first name, and I was merely a number. I was a no one. Immediately, I realized what I had to do in order to survive. Shut my mouth. Do what I was told. Ask permission for EVERYTHING. Make no move without being told to do so. Implicitly follow instructions. Work as a team member- not an individual. Remain vigilant for the unexpected, and be flexible enough to deal with fast-paced changes. Stay motivated despite exhaustion, pain, weariness, and fear. Eventually having the self-discipline to stand at attention for hours on end, despite wanting to wipe the sweat out of my eyes, because it was my DUTY to do so- THAT came easily.

I had no life or existence beyond what they allowed me to have. I had to earn the right to have respect from the Drill Sergeants. I had nothing other than that which they provided me. I was a civilian learning how to soldier. Drill Sergeants are expert soldiers. They know all. That is the nature of Drill Sergeants. They must be experts in order to teach civilians the ways of soldiering, and in turn, potentially save lives in combat. The respect that they command is beautifully fierce. If you have never met a Drill Sergeant, or been graced by their presence, you are missing out. They are truly outer worldly. Yes, they are still human beings, and have lives outside of our training and barracks, but when you are the one getting trained by them, it's very hard to imagine them at home with the kids! I feared Sgt. Rogers and Sgt. Diaz-de-Leon. I respected them and I hated them. In the end, I came to love them. It took a long time and a whole lot of push-ups later for me to feel that way!! Many people in training were like stubborn and wild horses that had to be broken. Luckily, it didn't take much to break me of my nasty civilian habits and mindset! The trouble with the breaking is, some people can't take it, and it pushes them over the edge. I just found a nice place in the recesses of my mind to retreat to when it got bad. I put on the figurative protective coating on, and kept going.


COMFORTABLY NUMB





[this picture was taken about 30 minutes after we experienced the gas chambers!! I am on the right side, 2nd row up, 3rd person from the right.]





As the days and weeks went on, I truly began to love the regimen, the discipline, the structure, and the consistency of Army living. I became used to being yelled at.[No matter what one did, the DS yelled. Even if you give the right answer to the wrong question, you are WRONG! It's all part of their mind game; their psyche breaking routine.] I became robotic and numb. I found a way to cope with the fear and pain by blocking it out and emotionally detaching, while still taking it all in and thriving. The daily grind became routine. Predictability was not something I was used to in my life. I grew up with chaos and disorganization. Despite the seemingly chaotic manner in which the Drill Sergeants herded us around and used confusion tactics to keep us on our toes, there really was a method to their madness. Waking us up at 2am with a fake fire drill just to make sure we were all following bedtime uniform protocol... a pain in the ass at the moment, yes, but worthwhile to make us realize had we been in a combat situation, we would need to be ready to jump into action at a moment's notice. Getting GIGGED [ARMY TERMINOLOGY: Gigged means getting busted or in trouble for a seemingly tiny or mundane detail] for dust bunnies under our beds or a tiny piece of lint on our uniform seemed to be crazy and asinine. But it served a purpose: PAY ATTENTION TO DETAIL. Finally all the madness made sense. I began to really fit into a rhythm, I knew what was expected of me, and the training was so methodical, I was able to do it in my sleep.




INTESTINAL FORTITUDE

Laying in my bunk at night, I often pondered life, and came to realize all that I took for granted in my "previous life." It was amazing how many walks of life we all came from, how different we all were, and how in the Army your former status and life back home didn't matter there. You could've been a great athlete, a brilliant map reader, or a championship marksman- all great skills that are helpful in the Army, but if you don't have HEART you won't make it in Basic Training. Period. I saw so many people flounder in various aspects of BCT because it just wasn't in their heart to be there, nor were they able to dig deep within themselves to find the strength to carry on. The #1 purpose of BCT is to train and prepare soldiers for combat. You are there for that reason alone. If you were deployed into combat, you must be able to handle the stressful environment in which complete discipline is required. People's lives are dependant on the strength and capabilities of the unit. If you are running through a battle field and suddenly stop because you "can't do it," people could DIE because of you. You have to find the strength- mental and physical- the intestinal fortitude, within yourself to keep going. You must "suck it up," "drive on," and be "good to go," at all times. It "behooves you" to do what you are told without question. If someone decides to be a BLUE FALCON [ARMY TERMINOLOGY: a blue falcon is someone who goes off and does their own thing- an "individual,"] so many lives could be at stake. The Drill Sergeants had an amazing way of talking to us and making us think a whole lot deeper than we ever had before. They had funny terminology and words that came from another planet. Nothing that came out of the DS's mouths were by accident or without purpose. They were always using their authority and position to teach us a lesson. Our lives depended on how well they taught us to survive.

OVERCOME and DRIVE ON

In the end, I made it through hardships and pain. I succeeded. I was transformed from a sloppy civilian to a lean, mean killing machine! If I had to, or was deployed into combat, I knew how to defend myself and my fellow soldiers. I could protect myself from a nerve gas attack. I knew basic combat First Aid, hand-to-hand combat, and I could road march with the best of them. I had pride in my country like never before, and I was willing to die for my fellow man. I knew how to do Drill and Ceremony; I was no longer "back on the block," as they said, I was beginning to look like a soldier. I had completed terrifying obstacle courses, some of which could only be done as a team. I could fire an M-16, a grenade launcher, and a M-60. I knew military protocol, procedure, and chain of command. A serious knee injury in the 3rd week could have stopped me from continuing if I had been a weaker person, but it didn't. A mishap with Sgt. Rogers in the 5th week caused a major setback initially. However, it pushed me to prove to him and myself that I had the heart to be there. The incident I am referring to is very embarrassing, but I feel that in order for this blog to be complete, I must add it:
Picture the setting. It's a hot and dusty day at the shooting range. Sgt. Rogers had been on vacation for a few days and was back just in time to start torturing us at the range. I was in my foxhole and had my earplugs in. My battle buddy was in there with me. Sgt. Rogers was screaming orders at everyone and completely going berserk. (Meanwhile people have loaded weapons, and scarily enough, there were people in training who were *gasp* suicidal.) I turned to my BB and said about Sgt. Rogers, "he's being a dick," forgetting that my ear plugs were in, so I said it very loud, apparently. In about 1.2 seconds, Sgt. Rogers grabbed me by the collar and pulled me out of the foxhole. After a vicious tongue lashing, he decided to make me the butt of every joke within the CADRE [permanent party, people who are stationed at that location, non-trainees], and call me out as many times as possible. That night was the worst experience of my life. He decided to be on CQ [CHARGE OF QUARTERS, the person in charge overnight], so that he could teach me a lesson. He called a meeting and first thing he said was, "Someone lied to me today. Who was it?" Of all things I learned in the Army: DUTY, HONOR, COUNTRY, RESPECT, DISCIPLINE, AND INTEGRITY, I knew lying didn't bode well with anyone. Earlier in the day, after being pulled out of the foxhole, he had asked me what I said about him. I said, "I didn't say anything!" That right there was a lie. So I knew when he asked in that meeting about someone lying to him, he was referring to me. As painful as it was, and as easy as I would have liked to have died right on the spot, I stood up and said, "I did." He was surprised that I had the nerve to confess in front of everyone. He told all my fellow soldiers what I had said. And he proceeded to punish & smoke them while I had to watch. He then made me go to my room and pack all of my stuff, as he told me he was going to send me home dishonorably. I stood before him in shock, but in strong admission of guilt, and did not shed a tear. He asked me, "What do you have to say for yourself?" as my friends were crying and grunting in pain and fear. I had already learned you NEVER, EVER say sorry to a Drill Sergeant, and they don't care if you cry a million tears. You are never supposed to show weakness. They don't want your apology. You are NOTHING to them, remember? I said, "I know I made a mistake, but I want to be here." He was quiet for a minute then he said, "you know what Private? You've got guts. Most of these other Privates would be crying and begging by now, but you stood here and took it. I'm proud of you! Now get your stuff out of here and get out of my face!" Hahahhahahaha- wow. What a shocker and life changing moment that was. By that point in training, I was slacking, not feeling motivated, and dragging ass so to speak. He put the fear of God in me. Or the fear of Drill Sergeants, anyway. He made me realize what I could lose because of a terrible mistake. He gave me the motivation I needed to dig deep and harness the strength within.


"THIS IS MY NOW, AND I AM LIVING IN THE MOMENT" (Jordin Sparks)





Graduation day was the best day of my life up to that point. I had learned so much about myself. If I could complete all the tasks required of me for Army BCT, I could literally do ANYTHING in life. All along, every tiny accomplishment was a huge deal; an accumulation of seemigly impossible tasks, with even more impossible requirements to get them done. Imagine the Amazing Race Military Edition on steroids, where you are expected to fail. That's BCT. They set it up with impossible standards, so that you will always have to reach higher, worker harder, and give it your all.

The morning of graduation, my platoon presented Sgt. Rogers with a plaque that had the words to the "Ballad of the Green Berets" on it, and "Summer '96 Charlie Cougars, 1st Platoon." We all had learned the words to the Green Beret, and we sang it to him. He actually pinched a tear. Unbelievable. He told us we were "FUCKIN HOOAH" (basically we were badass!), and we finally deserved to see the picture he carried around in his front pocket. He had told us at the beginning of training that he carried around a picture of his 1st kill in Panama. He also had told us numerous times that he was so wicked and crazy he could kill us with a blade of grass or his pinky!!! In hindsight, seeing a picture of a dead person sounds crazy, but back then and there, it was perfectly normal, and we were stoked that we had earned the man's respect. He showed it to us. Eek. I can't say what I felt when I saw that picture, because at that point in time, I was pretty emotionally turned off. I was just glad he was treating us like human beings finally. My family drove all the way to Missouri to see me, and my late Grandpa, Ret. SGM Prospero Chavez got to see me graduate as well. Sgt. Rogers came up to me in the barracks and I introduced him to my dad. He turned and looked at me, shook my hand, and said, "Thank you Private." My hands were shaking and my heart was pounding. Finally I found the air in my lungs and I muttered, "Thank you Sergeant." I was so taken aback, I waited until after he walked away to burst into tears and hug my dad. After graduating from Army training, and experiencing the greatest pride of my life, I moved on, became less disciplined, and relaxed too much. I went through my share of problems, including depression, post-Army injuries, and of course, weight gain, which brings me to the beginning of this blog. In 2009, when I began the journey I am still on, I found that once I immersed myself, it was so easy to tap into the discipline I have had all along. I already had the skills to succeed. I learned everything I'll ever need to know in life while I was in the Army.