Doug: The Well

Dear Readers,

I'm currently sitting in the balcony section of the college restaurant below my dorm, watching the sun burst through the overcast as though it truly were the Greek god Helios, tearing through the clouds with awesome purpose and divine power. The time is now 0830 in the AM. I have been awake for approximately three and a half hours. A massive plate of breakfast fruit and bread lies before me, waiting to be sacrificed to the black hole that has replaced my civilian stomach. And I'm so motivated that I would eat NAILS if I could just get ahold of them.

Today was the first day of Bulldog, which is when all the Marines in the unit get together to punish their bodies into submission. Navy pukes are invited to join in, and a few motivated ones do, but it's mostly Marines. This not only builds team unity among the Marines in the unit (of which our number consists of a mere 21) but also helps us train up for our far more hardcore Physical Training test. Bulldog takes place twice a week, Mondays and Fridays, in addition to Battalion PT, which is Wendsday.

What, you Dear Reader may ask, do we do at Bulldog? Well, it's now my personal pleasure to tell you...

WE WRECK SHIT.

Starting out with a few simple exercises, like Jumping Jacks (Side Straddle Hops) and some simple stretching, we limber our bodies up, prepare for the task we are about to preform. We then proceed to fall into two lines, do a right face and RUN. Now, I hate running, but I've been getting better at it, so I hate it less. I'm beginning to think that many things I don't like doing I simply don't like because I'm not naturally good at it. So we ran in two lines, led by our Platoon Leader, Midshipman Anderson, who seems to be in love with the mere thought of punishing his body, and the actual action brings him to tears of joy. We were also led by Major Crowe, our Marine Instructor.

If it weren't for the grey hair appearing at his temples, it would be easy to mistake Major Crowe's age at about fifteen years younger than it actually is. He is a tall man, well muscled, but in the proportional way, not the bodybuilder way. Unlike Midshipman Anderson, he doesn't seem to be in love with punishing his body, and the actions for him seem less like someone in love with pain and more like a warrior cleaning his weapon.

Regardless of ether's motivation, both stepped it out (began running) at a pace that left me immediately running at at least 80 percent of capacity. I was three runners behind Anderson, and thus in the front for much of the time. I soon found myself breathless, but not just at the run.

We began at Condon hall, a depressing building we're temporarily based at while we wait for our far more impressive, (and Hogwartsish looking) building is remodeled. Condon is the the Hall where many of the law school classes are taught, my father spent much of his time there when he was getting his degree. We then proceeded on a southeast heading towards Lake Washington, down a trail, past a few stop lights and into a neighborhood. Through the neighborhood and down towards what I would guess to be an abandoned or mothballed Naval emplacement down by the water. A old artillery weapon stood in a gravel circle in front of a building. We passed by too quickly for me to read the sign by it.

We then ran headlong into Neverland not pausing for one second. On Lake Washington there is a series of small islands connected by wood bridges. These bridges and paths on the island for what must be, at some sane hour, a running trail for civilians. Trees closed in on us at certain points forming a dark green tunnel broken only by the dark shapes running pell mell in front of you. It was as though we were running in a dream, beauty personified. A primeval forest all around us, I watched carefully for glimpses of dinosaurs, or unseen creatures of the forest.

We paused momentarily in a grassy meadow, broken only by a gravel path that led to a view of the lake. Our taskmasters did not allow us to stop, instead we ran in circles while the slowest of us caught up. Then we proceeded to to some push-ups. Then, back to running.

We followed the same path out. At the abandoned artillery gun, we were ordered to shed our shoes and run back out to a point midway along the bridge over the water. We followed our leaders as they unhesitatingly jumped into the lake water. Lilly pads to the left and right of our jumping point rippled at the intrusion.

It was like jumping into liquid ice. The cold water up here is fed by the ocean and rivers, which are in turn fed by snow melt off the Cascade Mountains all around us. My lungs constricted and I found for the first time that I couldn't breathed, even with my head out of the water. Fear as well as the cold clenched me. The Lilly pads, beautiful when out of the water, now seemed like carnivorous plants, their stems wrapping around my feet, trying to suck me under. I had never been afraid in the water like this before. It was as if my own mother had betrayed me. My body flagged and I began to sink. To sink in a situation like this is to die.

I gritted my teeth and shoved the fear down into The Well. The Well is an abyss, a black hole inside my mind. In it lies fear, anger, loss, sorrow, and pure unadulterated rage. It is my darkness, a super weapon lying inside me, waiting for it's chance to be used. There, almost drowning in the water, I touched The Well.

A weight lifted off of me. I found I could breathe again. Strength flowed back into my arms and legs and I stroked confidently for the shore. Terrible power filled my veins, feeling so powerful, so strong, so good.

I was neither the fastest nor the first to the shore, but I was among them.

Then we ran some more. Upon our arrival back to condon we proceeded to do a pyramid set of pull ups, doing twelve push ups on our breaks. a pyramid set looks like this:

1Pullup
12Pushups
2Pullups
12Pushups
3Pullups
12Pushups
4Pullups
12Pushups
5Pullups
12Pushups
6Pullups
12Pushups
5Pullups
...

Then we stretched, and were done.

I'm told the run was four miles. It seems like less. In the past I've had trouble running three. I've just done one of the hardest workouts of my life, and I'm still so motivated that everyone I look at shies back, perhaps at the mad grin on my face, perhaps because they sense something is... wrong.

Walking back to my dorm from Condon I saw all these people who had just woken up, going to class, doing whatever. I am different from these people. I did more work in an hour than they're going to do all day. My roommate was still asleep when I got back. I changed quietly and headed down here to eat. I ate fruit, for breakfast. Those that know me know that this is almost unheard of. I rarely eat breakfast, much less fruit.

But I am different now. This place has changed me. For better or worse, as the saying goes. I am what I am now.

The Well still whispers at the edge of my mind.

-Doug

"NO! You'll never be alone!
When darkness comes I'll light the night with stars!
Hear these whispers in the dark!"
Skillet, "Whispers in the Dark"