I’m sitting in an empty barracks building in north Germany. People must forget that their (in)actions have a direct effect on others and their lives. I’m stuck here and missed the long weekend, but I recognize things could be so much worse. Everything can always be worse. Anything can be better. There’s a subtle comfort in knowing we’re never quite satisfied. Happy in the moment, maybe. But unprepared to realize how every part of this world will wax and wain against another.
I miss the feeling of working towards something tangible. Having a goal dangled in front of me feels like such a luxury. Everything back in Oklahoma felt as though I was on the cusp of succeeding. One more call to this guy and maybe he’ll like me again. One more run, one more gym session, one more swim, keep studying, more pushups. It’s close! Even with all my lack of confidence or bouts of self doubt and anxiety I specifically remember looking in my district 610 mirror and thinking ‘shit. at least I look good’. Now it’s a simple mixture of self-loathing and avoiding mirrors. I can easily recognize the weight I’ve attached to an arbitrary army school is unhealthy, but if I shift my focus, or commit to a different goal, or acknowledge I may not get an opportunity to go back until after CCC (which then is daunting in itself because I don’t know if I want to stay past CCC) it feels like I’m settling.
It feels like I’m settling when I’m eating a pizza for dinner. I’m settling when I forgo 7 hours of sleep for 4. I’m settling when I let the idea of skipping my push-ups for the day, I’m settling when I fail to maintain a weight goal or go home instead of the gym after work. When I sleep in on a weekend. When I sleep in until 0500 instead of my 0400 alarm to get an extra run, stretch, or lift in. I know it’s about perspective. There are ways to flip all of these ideas into positive spins. But I am scared of letting go. In my head, I have to work 10x the average athletic person, just to get my body and mind to an acceptable state of fitness. So that’s why I cling to this so called “disciplined” mindset. It could be better- it needs to be, but at least I’m hitting minimum requirements of effort in certain categories.
I’ve been using food or lack there of as punishment more often. And again. I know that’s wrong. I know if I make a mistake in the morning- restricting my eating for the remainder of the day isn’t going to make up for anything. But there’s something about the fact that I enjoy (good) food, that if I mess up, I know I can hold myself accountable through a different system. I would never “punish” myself through an extra workout, I see that align with a reward if I have more time in my day to get it done. Instead I use snacking and meals to identify the ways I have to be better in. Taking away meals won’t make me more successful, but I still tie it to discipline.
Nothing makes me fume like when I see someone eat at a time when all their subordinates have not. It goes right back to someone’s individual character. It’s uncomplicated. It’s caring about others.
It makes me want to throw my plate down when I realize some “leaders” don’t make sure they’ve gotten 100% of their people through the chow line. As cheesy and cliche the line “leaders eat last” is, I couldn’t stress it’s importance enough after this past week. Watching grown men scarf down food while their guys are still cleaning up from the day makes me want to never eat again. Dramatic? Of course. But food is one of those malleable variables that can demonstrate your care for others past a typical check in.
I am happy in a lot of ways, but wistful for my past self in more. The past two years I’ve felt nostalgic for the places I was before, so I’m wondering if it keeps going downhill? I’m doing my best to remember grass is green where it’s watered, so I know I have a lot of work to do where I am now :)
always
go off