Training sessions...

Well, this is going to be VERY different from the typical fare you will get here... :) I had to write a creative/descriptive nonfiction piece for my English class. I never write like this otherwise, but, it is sort of an update on life here... I guess. :)

It is about training sessions. Let me know if you feel bad for me afterwards. If so, Mission accomplished. ;)

I lined up shoulder to shoulder with my classmates in the long hallway, waiting for the training session to begin. It was Monday, and my Training Officer had told me there would be a training session that afternoon. As I stood there with my back against the wall, waiting for the inevitable, I contemplated why I had come back to the hallway. Perhaps I did not want to leave my classmates to their fates alone, or perhaps it was also a little fear of reprisal. At any rate, I had decided to return to the squadron and take whatever was coming my way. I waited in silence for five minutes, but it seemed an eternity. Suddenly, the cadre came running from an adjacent hallway, seemingly appearing from out of nowhere right in front of me. Controlled chaos ensued as I and my classmates were broken up into small groups and hustled off to different parts of the long hallway.

As soon as I and my little group were alone, the cadre barked out a command to hit the ground in the front leaning rest. As I did pushups to his monotonous cadence, my back straight as a board, sweat began to bead on my forehead. Soon, there was a puddle right in front of me, formed as it dripped off my face. I could tell where I had been the minute before by merely looking for the splatter of sweat on the floor. The tile flooring felt cool, and as I continued to do pushups, it became ever more inviting. The temptation to collapse, to rest against the cool tiles, to take a break from the incessant physical exercise, was great. It seemed like a magnet, drawing me ever closer as my lower body began to sag towards it from exhaustion.

The cadre then decided to switch exercises to give my overworked upper body muscles a brief respite. He said that I could take a break and sit down in a chair. The seat was invisible, and its back was the wall. After a minute of “rest,” the muscles in my upper thighs began to protest, and as lactic acid was released, began to quiver and burn. However, I continued to sit there, legs involuntarily shaking, until instructed to stand up.

I was not done with the hallway yet though. I sprinted through the hallways, futilely chasing the cadre who constantly egged me to run faster. Up one, down another. The once familiar hallway seemed to have become an endless maze with no way out. Not until the training session was over did I see it again for what it really was, a mere corridor leading to wherever I needed to go.