The Most Difficult Day Of My Life

A gritty sand-sweat mixture clung to the creases of Bettina Baca’s hands as she crawled using only her upper body through a sand volleyball field by Lake Claire. Three army drill sergeants screamed at her to keep moving.

I soon snapped out of this state, hastily trying to stretch my muscles, which were cramping because I was so anxious. I heard the announcer yell “Ready, Set, Go!” followed by the pop of the starting pistol. Startled I took off running as fast as I could momentary forgetting to pace myself. I knew I would run out of energy if I didn’t do something to correct myself, so I slowed down and matched my breath to my steps. This way I could get an adequate amount of air into my lungs for aerobic respiration. By doing this I cruised through the first mile of the

Cresting the hill, I struggled with my ragged breathing and the pain in my hips. I focused on my rhythm I in order to keep going. My running shoes slapped the pavement as onlookers expressed their encouragement with cowbells and cheers. I wondered again why I put myself into the situation by choice. As I passed mile 13 I remembered. I felt my eyes water and my legs shake as the finish line approached. Marines in uniform stood ready with medals and smiles as they encouraged us in our own hardships to rise above the pain and finish. The announcer spoke my name but I hardly heard him as a medal slipped over my head and I marveled at the weight, not of the medal, but the accomplishment which seemed impossible for the past three hours. I finished in 3 hours, 7 minutes. It was not an Olympic record and I detested running at mile two, but I did it.

I ran back up the hill to our camp, trying to move quickly without wasting too much energy, took my inhaler, and rushed back down the hill. Soon, it was time for the race to start. The officials gave an overview of information about the race and how it would start. The official behind us blew a long whistle. We stood, motionless, just waiting for that starting gunshot. Pow! The race was off. I sprinted out of the pack. I tried to find a good pace and settle in. We ran up a few hills, and then we made it to the first entrance to the creek. Unintelligently, I didn’t slow down very much going into the creek. Because I didn’t slow down, I splashed into the creek with a belly flop, almost submerging my whole body underwater. I got up quickly, then began to climb up the mud wall. I clawed at that wall like it was my enemy. I avoided the rope, even though it actually wasn’t that busy at the moment. I was too focused to switch strategies. We continued to run on, passing many fans, their cheers a chaotic blur. We passed through the second part of the creek, which was not nearly as deep. It was only about mid-shin to knee level, so I made my way through just fine. We ran all over the vineyard. I wasn’t feeling too awful. I was just caught up in the thrill of the race! We made it to the cornfields, and there were lots of small hills. I ran through them staring at the ground, and I kept seeing the same pair of shoes. For some strange reason, I kept staring at those shoes. People do crazy things when they run, you could say! Anyways, I passed the person wearing those shoes. We ran away from the corn fields and under a bridge. I was coming closer and closer to the finish. I was struggling to continue, but I would not quit! I pushed through the pain, but by the end of the race, I was just done. I saw the final hill in front of me. It was one of the biggest hills on the course, if not the biggest, and it was definitely the most difficult after

A jagged pain arcs across my chest as I take in a breath. My legs grind up one after the other, barely moving but still pushing me forward. The runners ahead of me continue to press on, legs becoming a blur as they widen the gap. Eyes glancing up for a split-second, I find a primitive strength rising up within me, something that says No. You are not done yet. Throwing my arms higher and feeling my body ache even more, I set my gaze on a tree that lines the top of the hill, and I gradually increase the length of my strides, slowly but surely catching up with the group that was about to leave me behind. As we pound around the corner and begin to coast downhill, I release a small sigh of relief, despite my exhausted lungs. I may have won a battle, but the war continues, and we continue to

Hello Marines you boys have been selected for the L.A.V training, but first you have to show you can do it. The first couple week weren't bad we were shooting some big boy guns with some big boy vehicles. The vehicles we are training to us go on land and on water. First to go in last to come out.

During Phase 2 the physical training becomes more intense as do the qualifying times for the timed runs and the swims and obstacle courses become more demanding. The only similarity between these two phases is the four-mile ocean swim and the twelve-mile timed run. The next big hurdle in Phase 2 is the "Pool Comp". In Pool Comp you will be in full dive gear with a double hose regulator on the dive tanks and swim along the deep end of the Combat Training Tank. Soon, as swift as a shark attack, you are tossed around lie a rag doll and will have all of your gear and tanks torn from your body. The underwater aggressor ties the regulator hoses in knots. You are in an unstable position and could easily panic and swim for the surface. However, if that occurs, you will fail the test and be set back for a week.

I heard the announcer on his microphone call you for ages 14 to 15 reps in 45 minutes I went down to the water to see what I really got myself into and surprisingly it was not too cold but it definitely woke me up. 20 minutes I heard him call out but then people started grouting around the water 10 minutes he started the race in knee-deep water the countdown has begun 5958 57 my heart beaded faster and faster my knees were shaking people were cheering 10 98 I put my hate hands out ready to dive 4321 and I went went reaching my arms as far as they can get kicking my feet with power. When I turn my head to breathe you could hear people's cheering and screaming around that the Bewley I went falling behind a kid as I was reading the sand I pulled myself as hard as I could to the beach and ran to the transition station my body Felt like rapper I was so cold as it was changing my shoes as best as I could grab some water and I was off rating my bike out on the road my mom screaming is all I heard passing my family with

Striking out across the open water was a bit daunting. Getting beyond the sight of land was unsettling, but I’m confident in my Capt’s skills and he knows what he’s doing. Looking over the side, the water was so clear that, although we were in 10-15 feet of water, it looked shallow enough to walk to the land.

The announcer was counting down and all I could think to myself was, “Please don’t die.” Standing dead smack in the centre of a herd of men and women, all of which were whooping and hollering anticipating the starting pistol to go off. Yet, there I was, praying that my 3 months of training wasn’t going to let me down. 5 seconds to go; and there was no turning back, what laid ahead for all of us was 11 miles and 21 obstacles that were designed to test one’s mental and physical tenacity. It wasn’t a competition; it was a trial. “Here we go!” my best friend Aaron declares sportively with a nudge as the pistol goes off, and our Braveheart charge was underway.

As Mark Twain once explained, “A man who carries a cat by the tail learns something he can learn in no other way.” This sentiment was not one that I was not very familiar with before I went to boot camp. Like any young testosterone fueled eighteen year old male, I believed that, with some preparation, my, self perceived, athletic ability and wits would propel me to triumph over the challenges presented by boot camp .After all, I had never really experienced any kind of significant failure in my life: my football team won the league championship year after year, I passed all of my classes, I had lots of friends, and I had a happy home with two working parent’s life was good, it seemed everything was an immediate success. That is until I arrived at boot camp, where epic failure appeared to be the only means of success I was able to achieve. But, over time I learned my failures were not negative, they were, in fact, an invaluable step in the learning process that provided me with the necessary skills need to succeed.

Before I knew it the Starter pointed his gun high and fired. Across the starting line from both sides I felt runners storming off, as did I. I wanted to take a smart approach as I planned I would. The first mile quickly came up and I was advancing my place further to put myself into a positive position to finish. A mile and a half into the race overall I felt relaxed  and was still moving up passing runners. Next the second mile came up and I was starting to struggle as were some runners close by. Additionally hills were to come in the next mile and a half and I wasn’t looking forward to it, but I knew If I stopped then slowed down, I wouldn’t satisfy myself. Eventually I made it through the hills along with other struggling runners. The last part of the race came and as soon as I made it to where I had about 400m left, overall I gave it all I had in the moment so that I finished in excellent standing with myself. As I gave it all I could I passed a few runners in the process and as a few passed by as well. Finally, after several minutes of trying to catch my breath I finally

Rainsford hefted his shaking body out of the ocean, each limb weighing a thousand pounds. He collapsed onto the beach, the sharp rocks around him dug into the small of his back. One long shuddering breath was uttered before he stood slowly. Physical exhaustion couldn’t beat him, or the General would surely find him there, helpless and weak.

The next part of the training turned out to be the toughest. We were required to dive ten feet to the bottom of the pool and retrieve a ten pound weight. Once the weight was brought to the surface we were supposed to tread water for two minutes while keeping the weight above the water line. This appeared to be simple so I dived in, expecting an easy time. I had no trouble getting the weight to the surface and proceeded to tread water with a feeling of undoubtable success. But once again my anti-floating physical quality began to take effect. At one minute and thirty seconds I began to sink and within the next fifteen seconds my head was submerged and I was fighting for air. The water from the pool began flowing into my mouth with each desperate grasp for air; it felt as if an ocean were draining into my body. I remember hearing from under the water the instructor's muffled voice counting down the last ten seconds of the exercise. When it was all over I slowly made my way back to the pool's edge where I was informed by the two young girls that they had no difficulty

Throughout my life, there were many days that were significant; however there is only one day that stands from the rest. The most important day of my life is the day I graduated high school. Graduating high school was an emotional day because I felt prepared to exit one stage of my life and optimistic for the next step in my life.