Physical Training

Its no longer for my health. Its my job.


Working out used to be a routine habit: A simple run to work a small sweat was a common occurrence in the mornings at college. The weight room in the afternoon for 45 minutes was always a great stress reliever. Every once in a while, I would get some pull ups in from the pull up bar in my dorm room. But now, the level of physical fitness required for a Marine officer has thrown my expectation for physical training out the window. What once was a extra curricular activity is now apart of my job description.


As you are aware, the Marines have very high standards of what "Physical Fitness" actually means.



I could not believe how tired I was already after just a mile. But that would make sense. Running with a 25 pound bullet proof vest on, boots and a camel-back ad's quiet a bit of weight. It seemed that even the sweat which already soaked my camo pants through added 5 pounds. The gravel crunched beneath my feet as I pressed up the road. The tall trees trapped in the humidity on the long empty road. I looked over the crest of the hill as I jogged up. I could see strait ahead to the 3 mile mark. I exhaled and tried to lift my feet and not drag them across the gravel.


I was shaking. We all were. My arms could barely hold my body weight up in the modified push up position. But we had to. Other officers crawled beneath us as we made a long "house", in which our rear ends were up in the air, making a tunnel for people to pass. I closed my eyes and tried to accept the pain building steadily in my shoulders, hoping that we would make it to the end. A new type of pain registered in my brain. The one which you know the pain is getting worse, and there is no end in sight. I expected that end to be 3 minutes ago, but as officers gave out and went to a knee, the instructors added more people to cross through the tunnel. It had been 10 minutes... with another 10 people to cross under... 11... 12.... now 13.


All I thought about was how much I could injure myself every time I jumped down from a log, or grabbed onto the steel parallel bars to climb over. The obstacle course required agility, speed, and above all endurance. But with every jump over a wooden wall, or pull up the climbing rope, injury taunted us all. I gave everything I could to finally climb up the rope and touch the top.
"1 minute 15 seconds." said the Capt. at the bottom. "Make sure you run back to the beginning."
Its hard to believe that they require you to run that entire course twice in around 3 minutes. But who can think when you can hear your heart beat thumping in your ears.


All it was made of was sand. The olive drab green bags looked simple and felt light when I first picked them up. Adding them to lunges, should rolls, curls, and other exercises certainly give's a work out a new twist. The point of doing these exercises was to demonstrate how a bag and simple soil of a surrounding region could produce a multipurpose weight for working out in all areas of the world. It was also incredible how such a multipurpose weight was a giant pain in the ass.
I threw the bags away from me and let them flop onto the grass. I dropped down and took a seat in exhaustion. The sun had just set over the dorm rooms, but still grazed the top of the pull up bar. My arms throbbed and burned in pain. My stomach muscles clenched in and out with every rapid breath I took. Sweat streamed down my half bald head and down my shirt, dripping to the hard ground. I stared blankly at the grass, just breathing.

Even when we do not have scheduled Physical Training, we are required to work out on our own. After 12 hour work days and sitting in class rooms, it's tough to get out and work for a mere 45 minutes.


I've never worked this hard physically in my life. But having a life in the Marines means to be physical. It is implied. It is expected.


It is my job.