Athletic Supporter

SHAPING UP. — I re-accomplished my Air Force Physical Training test this week. This is a comparison of my score from just a month ago with last Wednesday’s test results:

In 60 Seconds:
Pushups: 31 / 26 (I didn’t want to fatigue my core for the sit-ups a minute later)
Sit-ups: 31 / 44

1.5 Mile Run: 12’30” / 12’10”
Waist: 28″ / 28″
Weight (lbs): 146/136 (height: 5’9″)

With these statistics, I scored a 92.6%. Just to further drive home how flawed the Air Force fitness tests are, you can still “fail” the test by not meeting the set minimums (even with my score of 86.2% from a month ago). Also, you start the 1.5 mile run from a dead stop. Super healthy…

And speaking of super healthy, I attended the fatbody’s “people who failed their PT test class”, which is mandatory, to learn about how to eat right, exercise and goal-setting (sigh). When going around the room, with the question posed of “What things have you heard about healthy eating?”, I replied curtly “Don’t eat food with labels.”

It took everyone a minute

LEAVE JOBS. — Lots of changes at work lately. After a year as the squadron executive officer, I have moved to working in Standards and Evaluations. I help organize all the folder that contain check rides and tests for air crew. Honestly, it’s a step down in a way. Usually you get hooked up, as a former executive officer, with a more “unique” job, but I have a feeling I was just stuck in a dark corner to get rid of me until I (supposedly) move this fall/winter. I also didn’t get the opportunity to deploy overseas with my squadron; with no real reason why. The new job is super easy, and way less stressful than the exec job. I likened the new office to a library; it’s super quiet, and there’s fake, dusty trees in the office. Luckily, I have my iPod.

I put all my effort into my former job. It seems so strange to me they’d put me in a box and shove me upstairs, away from the rest of the squadron, when I love people and helping people so much. Nobody ever comes upstairs (especially now that the whole squadron is deployed). People need help with all sorts of things and they come ask me. Makes you feel purposeful; now, not so much. But hopefully it’ll only be six months or so before I move South… and get shoved into a dark, dusty corner again.

In good news at work, I took my flight to become considered experienced as a Radar Navigator in the B-52. This means I get to call all the shots downstairs in the offensive (weapons) compartment. People look to me on the crew to be the authority on all the combat systems management and weapons. When shit happens, I’m supposed to know how to fix it. Next stop is instructor. Woof. Wonder how much I’ll have to pay someone off for that certification… ha!

It did make me feel pretty swell to hear the big squadron bosses talking hush-hush about who should be an alternate for deployment (it’s a long haul out to the deployment location), and I just got signed off as experienced on Friday. One major said “I evaluated her and she can definitely take charge and run things accordingly.” Well, shit. I was asked to be an alternate. Doesn’t mean I get to go along with my squadron overseas, but finally, a glimmer of an “attaboy”. Those are extremely rare and far-between in this line of work, and rightfully so. No blowing smoke up your butt… at least I wouldn’t want it that way.

SO LONG. — Here is a photo of one of the last times I’ll see ol’ Devin and Amie for a while. & last night, I took Amie out for dinner on me. Lots of ladies take out their best gal pal for dinner or coffee. But it’s not because you won’t see them for half a year or so. I suppose this is one of the reasons I joined the military — for all the experiences. Civilians can’t always understand saying farewell to your spouse for a year or more. Wondering if you can get time away to see your family this year due to the MAJCOM schedule, and feeling guilty taking the time off because you don’t want to let your squadron down during inspections or exercises. Continuous credit and background checks, monitored personal e-mails. And let me tell ya: nail art is totally out.

Here is a summer look I just invested in. Yes, it’s still 23°F here in Minot, North Dakota, but I feel like if I lighten my hair, stock up on shorts and self-tanner, the six feet of snow piled on my front lawn might dissipate more quickly. Sure thing.

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