The test isn’t difficult, you just feel ragged at the end if it. There are three events: push ups, sit ups and a 2 mile run. You have two minutes to max out the repetitions in the first two events and then of course you just run as fast as you can for 2 miles. Each event has a max score of 100 and it’s weighted by age. On a side note, I’ve always found it odd that my age range, 27 to 31, has the highest repetitions and shortest time to max out the test.

To make a long story epically longer, I slacked off after getting out of training back in July so I wasn’t quite the same physical specimen. I was most worried about the run and how much time I would add since my best of 13:24 back in AIT. Apparently, the worrying worked because I only added 20 seconds and that ain’t too shabby for carrying an additional 15 pounds!

The down side? My calves have filed for divorce, citing irreconcilable differences. They each feel like a rubber band stretched as far as possible with a nail dragging itself lengthwise across the band with each step I take. I look like Frankenstein’s monster every time I get up and try to walk until my calves relent enough for me to at least look like a low grade looney walking down the hall. And wincing through my head with each step, “and you’re going to run a marathon in February?”

I went for a 5 mile run today and stretched the calves back out. They’re a bit tight still, but better I think. It always amazes me how any aches and pains I have at the start of a run go away within the first quarter mile. I guess tomorrow morning’s crawl out of bed will be the presiding judge in this corporeal suit.

Arrive at the airport around 1500 and wait for a 1730 flight. Eat a little and reminisce about the bygone days of passing through Norfolk airport while working for the airlines. Then a smirk appears as I realize I’m wearing yet another set of wings as I walk past the gates. I guess some things will never change.

The smirk evolves into a grimace as I notice we’re delayed until 1800. Time to pull out the phone and pass time. The time gets pushed to 1930, then 1950, then back down to 1940. I feel like I’m watching the Dow index.

I realize I’m going to miss my connection into Orange County, which is also the last flight there for the day. I ask the gate agent about changing flights to the last LAX flight out of Chicago, but he won’t do it because it’s full. I’m glad to see my luck hasn’t left me in these six months of exile.

We takeoff around 2000 and I completely zonk out. I’m talking so deep a sleep, the next thing I know we’re touching down in Chicago. Now where was this skill when I was commuting?!!

At O’hare, I once again smile at nostalgia but realize I have no time for that. I hit the customer service desk in a lump of fatigue only to find that I must use a kiosk to change the flight myself. I do so, only to have the tickets print out as Mark Shoup. Someone want to figure out the odds on a Mark Shoup and a Mike Shoup riding on the same flight to LAX?

I ask the agent about the rarity. She just smiles and tells me to head to the gate and have them fix it there. Wow, there aren’t any agents at the gate and the flight leaves in a half hour. Oh, scratch that, it just got pushed back 45 minutes. Time to eat something.

My luck seems to change and I get on the flight, but I fear it being a long and painful flight. Murphy seems to have gone home for the day. I zonk out and awake again to the touchdown slamdown of the wheels at 0100 (Pacific Time). Wow, in both respects.

Finally greeted by some familiar but groggy faces, Kara and her mother meet me at baggage claim only to wait for everyone’s baggage but mine. I expected it but I guess Murphy got up early just for me.

I crawled into bed, MY BED, at 0230 and collapsed. In usual Murphy fashion I then proceeded to wake completely up at 0600. Aargh.

Many thanks to Kara and her mother for patiently waiting until the wee hours of the morning to drive me home. I greatly appreciate it.

I’m home…

So now I’ll sit around until my actual flight leaves at 1730 and not get back home until 2230. Guess I’ll spend some quality time at the airport. Gee, I wonder what that’s like!?

Regardless, I’ve given you all fair warning. Here I come.

Anderson says hi. Strohmeyer says he’s looking for a girl. The rest of us are pulling the Army standard of hurry up and wait for graduation on Tuesday. That is all we have left to do. It can’t come soon enough.

There are only two days left on this horrific vampire schedule and they cannot end fast enough. I am so happy I opted not to fly cargo for the sole reason of flying on the backside of the clock. I don’t know how those people do it.

I’ll sneak a movie review in here too since I can’t really think of anything worth saying. Superman Returns is not all that great a movie. Take all of this with the fact that I’m not that much of a Superman fan to begin with, I prefer Batman. I’m convinced the writers of this movie heard Five For Fighting’s song “Superman” and thought ‘hey, that’s a great premise for a new Superman movie!’ No, it really wasn’t.

They essentially picked up where Superman IV left off and trodded along in the same old fashion. Kevin Spacey had so much potential as Lex Luthor and they didn’t use it. The new guy playing Superman might as well change his name to Christopher Reeve, Jr. and I really didn’t like anyone else. Even the effects looked a little too computerish at times. I guess I was just expecting much more for such an iconic character.

There is a somewhat interesting twist that could take this whole storyline in a new direction, but I’m thinking it may fall flat on it’s face. Especially if the comic book side of the house doesn’t follow suit. Time will tell, I guess, if anyone really cares.

This movie is definitely only for the die hard Superman fans and I think even they will find it lacking.

Then I came to Ft. Eustis and thought I would finally get some wheat bread. I did, nearly four months later!?! Everything you can think of, bagels, english muffins, deli breads, sandwich breads, etc., are made from white bread. And yes I know it’s a “great source of calcium,” but doesn’t wheat bread have a hundred more vitamins and is just plain healthier for you?

I’m convinced this white bread company (named Mary Jane, I kid you not) has a lock on all grains sold to the U.S. Army because not only can you never find wheat bread, but the white bread just proliferates the DFACs. It is literally stacked in piles five feet high all over the kitchens! Either that, or they’re a new form of tribble taking over the world by infiltrating the military first!

Oh man! I know I’ve lost it now, I’m referencing Star Trek!!

Nothing seemed to really scream out as something I have direly missed for the last six months. There isn’t a special someone to greet me, a favorite haunt to pass the time away, although don’t get me wrong, I WILL be drinking my fair share of adult beverages, or a specific creature comfort that I’m dying for. I found this depressing and hoped something would surface before I got back.

Then it hit me last night while we were griping about the DFAC (dining facility) we eat at and how having the schedule we have, we really do get screwed. The variety is always nil and they usually run out of stuff before half the group has even made it through. But I digress. I want a tuna sandwich! Plain and simple. A lot of tuna, a bit of mayo and some lettuce and tomato on wheat, or better yet potato bread! That is something I have completely forgotten about and not seen since I left in January.

I’m telling you, it’s all about the simple things in life.

Shoup: Like an obsessive compulsive chick or a shrine building obsessive?

Strohmeyer: Definitely the shrine building type!

Shoup: Oh?

Strohmeyer: That way I don’t have to put any effort into a relationship. She’s just always there, waiting for me. I could do no wrong!

Shoup: The shrine and snips of hair everywhere wouldn’t bug you?

Strohmeyer: Sure, they’d take some getting used to, but they wouldn’t bother me. It’d be worth it just for the reason that if I wanted to go out with my buddies and have a beer I wouldn’t have to explain myself.

Shoup: You do realize this is the same type that would stalk you to the bar, have an argument with her split personality, because the shrine building types always have one or ten, realize she couldn’t stand sharing you with your friends and blow up everyone in the bar, right?

Strohmeyer: Damnit, Shoup!! You always have to ruin my ideas!! …hey, what were you saying about split personality chicks?

The best part is getting reacquainted with that awkward dance in bed, because you can never be more than an arm’s length from the rifle at all times. And I mean AT ALL TIMES!!!!

Next week should be fun as we ruck back out into the boonies and play war games. I’ll be curious to qualify with an M16 A1. Colt seems to know how to make them work good and last a long time. These are the relics left over from Vietnam! Plus I should finally have some good stories to put on here, if I get the chance. Not that anyone reads them of course…

From Fenway park to downtown roof top ‘qued steaks with a smattering of Halo duels thrown in for ol’ times sake, fun was had by all. But even that couldn’t eclipse the pure and simple joy of getting to sleep in and not shave for the first time in five months.

As always it ended too soon. Now I find myself with nose held to the grind as we jump into the Blackhawk powerplants for the next week. Only five weeks and some change left! It can’t come soon enough.