Road march

by chaotarroo

The 6km road march was hell. The moment I threw that 17kg load on the floor, it must have felt better than clearing the housing loans for the family. I confess I may have teared during then, but again, I wasn’t really sure with all that sweat dripping along every contour of my face. It’s quite a traumatic experience, especially for a scrawny wuss like me. But even feeling the bad sores on my shoulder which have yet to completely ebb, I am actually silently anticipating for the next and even further one. I may not be physically fit enough to handle that right now but I know that I will when I am expected to. No one ever said limit pushing is fun, it’s only satisfying. But be glad that most satisfaction works on one substantial level, it feeds the soul with good food for further milestones, although pointless, that’s a strong enough reason for me to push on.

Apart from the good food brought by satisfaction, it’s soothing on the ego to see the pack decrease as those that are either physically, or the way I like to see it, mentally impaired fall out when the march drags almost incessantly. Their moanings, the adjusting of velcro vest and the soft thud made by the dropping of bag pack works like a symphony to my ears. Dramatizing my experience, those that fall behind are my involuntarily percussionist and to do the same I will only be musical mockery to those that leads the pack, I will never see myself the same way if I did that. Simply put it, the candies to my shoulder seemed much less attractive when it’s at the expense of bludgeoning my ego, that was the idea that echoed again and again whenever I felt like throwing the load and that condescending morbidity worked. They say that NS is about working together as a team, doesn’t work that way for me, fuck unity, I like to feel better.

Speaking of road marches, field camp will start as soon as my next book in, which is a day more to go. As I am typing this comfortably while hugging a bolster with my right arm, it’s hard to be imaginative on digging and sleeping in cold mud for 4nights straight. I just hope the novelty of sharing a bed with a colony of termites while staring at a horizon of stars can triumph over all discomfort. While most folks are eager to pull the trigger to the first live round of their lives, I am not your typical adrenaline junkie, guns are boring instruments of death and I have no intention of firing anything out from that rusting muzzle. I just hope everything can be through with ASAP.

That’s all. Bye.

Advertisements