Monday Blues

I'm blue. Not so much because it's Monday or because I regretfully relinquished my daughter to her father this weekend - although those are both very good reasons to be blue. No, I'm blue because today I have to take a test. The dreaded Physical Readiness Test that is administered by the armed forces twice a year to ensure that we military members are in fit enough shape to kick enemy butt.

I always dread the PRT because it tests my physical ability - not my mental prowess. I would much rather someone ask me to take a 100 question multiple choice test on the the history Mesopotamian despots than perform any physical act for a grade.

The test consists of three parts: sit-ups (they call them curl-ups for some reason) push-ups and a 1.5 mile run/swim. The grading system goes from "Probationary" (meaning "barely getting by") to "Outstanding - High" (meaning super powers). I fall somewhere below the happy medium at "Good - High." I'm pretty ok with that at this point in my career. Could be better, could be worse.

When I was at OCS I was able to perform sit-ups and push-ups at Outstanding High. This was mostly due to my sadistic helpful Marine Corps Gunnery Sergeant. Anytime we messed up we had to do push-ups and this naturally lead to very strong arms. Now, the run was another story. I'm not a runner - never have been. Gunny would literally drag me by the back of the shirt whenever I fell behind. Which was often. Still, I managed to get my run time down to a little over 11 minutes.

Naturally my exercise regimen declined sharply after leaving OCS. Then there was the pregnancy. Women are allowed to skip the PRT while they are pregnant and for six months after delivery. Although I did work out when I was pregnant I could not find the motivation to do much after Muffin was born. Thankfully, an alternative to the run is to swim and I can do that! I'm a good swimmer - it's the reason I joined the Navy! I like water!

Still, even though I can perform all of the elements of the PRT I dread it. I dread being tested on my physical ability to do anything. I dread getting weighed and having everyone and their grandma know how much I weigh. I dread sit-ups and the subsequent worry that I might accidentally pass gas due to the effort. (Yikes!)

Most of all - I dread putting on a damn bathing suit in front of my co-workers. There are some things we just don't need to know about each other. They don't need to know about my flabby white thighs and I don't need to know about their hairy beer-guts. Eyes front, people!!

I looked through my old posts to see if I had mentioned this horrific event last spring but apparently I was too busy whining about other shit at the time. Hopefully, by the time the Spring PRT rolls around I'll be too worried about finding a new job and selling my house to dwell on the horrors of the PRT. One can only hope.