Twice a year, the Navys hold a PRT, a physical readiness test. And our command had ours last week. After an angry-gram was emailed out by the Command Fitness Leader (CFL), about forty of us, all decked out in our official Navy PT gear, showed up at the prescribed time and place.
As soon as I got there, another LT took me aside and told me Hey, I gotta talk to you, (while flashing me bug eyes.) He clarified his statement with: I need to ask you a favor. (And he bugged out some more.)
A favor right before a PT exam usually meant one thing, as in: I am out of shape. And I am worried about failing.
I followed him to the corner of the room. Hey look man, he said cautiously. You know how I was 48 pounds overweight?
And you know I lost all that weight over the last month.
Well, starting yesterday after weigh-ins, I’ve been eating like an absolute slob.
I had five meals yesterday. Look, I ate a burrito in thirty seconds!
And if I have some eruptions when you are holding my feet for sit-ups, I want to say sorry in advance.
Yeah. Um, thanks.
I am being serious. (He burped into his hand.)
No, I know you are. Let’s go kill this thing.
I warned you.
Hey man, do your thing.