A Single Pushup

When you first get to Basic Training, you're thrown into huge, same-gendered groups and herded around from station to station to fill out paperwork, give DNA samples and to be tested for fun things like pregnancy (two girls in my herd were), HIV and Hepatitis, among others. I'll admit - I was sweating a little while waiting. I'd never been tested for such things, and let's be honest...when the boy you think is your boyfriend has you and several other girlfriends...you just never know. But despite the odds, I was in the clear. Big sigh of relief.

After they weed out the pregnant and diseased...and a random person who discovered he was allergic to grass, the drill sergeant 'escorts' scream at you the whole way to the next phase. To make it out of this particular test, you have to perform one simple task. For the girls - a single push up, for the boys - six. Seems easy, doesn't it?

I could tell you that I was intimidated by the scary drill sergeants who were spraying spit all over the room as they yelled. I could tell you that I was still traumatized by the communal shower I had to take earlier that day with a dozen other girls. But the truth is, I had just never lifted a single weight and doing a push up had never occurred to me. When my recruiter told me I should start exercising before leaving for Basic, I bought some cute sneakers and a track suit and walked to Dunkin' Donuts in the morning for a large iced coffee...but that was it. So naturally I failed.

Dejected, I was directed to the group of the plump, of the frail, of...the couch potatos. While the strong went on their way to get fitted for uniforms and boots, those of us who failed were shuffled go our new barracks in...the 'fitness platoon.' For the next three weeks we were tortured with exercise for 10 hours a day. They didn't care if we cried or threw up or if our arms were shaking to the point of muscle failure. They ran us, aerobicized us, marched us and forced us to do thousands upon thousands of pushups.

It was humiliating watching the other groups of soldiers marching smartly in their uniforms while we filed around in ugly grey sweat shorts. My track suit was WAY cuter. I lost 20 pounds in those three weeks, and by the time I got out of there, I could do six push ups. All that work for six measly push ups. Hardly seemed worth it. But I did eventually get out and make it to Basic Training...where another round of torture started.

More in a few days!