It's a GO!

Well, I passed!  That is the absolute best thing that has happened to me in a really long time. Here's how it went down:

Push ups - I had no fear of failing this part. I said I was going to do 25 and then stop, to save energy for the sit ups. Well, I did 25 no problem, but still had a minute left. I couldn't stop with a minute to go! So I did a few more. Then a few more... and wound up pushing out a total of 40 in the 2 minutes. I ALWAYS do that. Say I'm going to do x amount, then stop. Then I wind up pushing the whole 2 minutes. Oh well.

Sit ups - This one was a bit harder. I had been practicing, so I stuck to my routine. 3 sets of 10, alternating between middle, left, and right sides. Slower than I had planned, but the first 30 were no problem. Then I started on the 3 sets of 5, middle, left, right.  These went much slower than I had hoped, but I still had time left when I was done, and by then I had already passed. I did 3 more for a total of 48. Wahoo!

Run - After realizing that I had passed the sit up portion, I knew I really had to push on the run. When I had failed sit ups in the past, I felt no need to really try my hardest on the run due to the fact that one must pass all 3 portions for a "GO." Fail sit ups, the whole test is a fail, so why kill yourself, right? Anyway, after passing sit ups, I did my best to psych  myself up for the 2 miles ahead of me.

Like always, most everyone else pulled out ahead of me after they said "ready, GO!"  I was not surprised, but I wasn't worried like I usually am. I felt confident. I kept up my pace and didn't do any significant stretch of walking. The end of the first mile even came quicker than anticipated. I guess all my practicing did do some good! When he yelled out the time, 9:46, I was elated! Under 10 minutes was a milestone for me and I knew I could do it.

After passing the grouping of spray-painted markers on the ground saying 1/4 miles, I saw Sgt. Oglio running out I guessed to offer support to those just coming in to finish. When she reached me she said "18:34!" Holy shit, I thought, I'm almost there and I have 2 minutes left! At that moment I knew I had nothing to worry about. I did slow down and walk a bit, I said, "When I reach that lamp post where the road makes that last bend, I'm gonna go for it." And I did. The lamp post came up, and I hauled ass. As I came up over the crest for the last stretch, I heard Sgt. Gonzalez (and probably everyone else standing there) yelling at me. I sprinted over the line at 20:14! My PT test, for the first time in 11 years, was a legitimate "GO!"

Yay me!!

PT Test

For those who don't know (you know, those imaginary people that I imagine read this blog, or even know about it), I have been in the Army Reserves for almost 11 years now (actually, one month from Sunday will be 11 years), and have passed the physical training test a total of... 2 times. Ok, maybe 3.

The first time was at the end of Basic Training where you HAVE to pass to graduate. I may have passed about 3 years after that (again, it was so long ago, I'm not really sure if I ever did). And the third (possibly only second) time I passed was a few years ago (2007? Maybe?) and even then, I didn't REALLY pass... I missed the run time by about 20-30 seconds, so they gave me the extra seconds so I'd have a "GO" on my record.

Now, the nice thing about getting older in the Army is that one's standards gets less rigorous. Not by much, I'll grant you that, but it is awfully exciting to be able to say that you're in the next age bracket when it comes to how much you have to do. When I started, being in the age group 17-21, I had to run 2 miles in 18:54, do 19 push ups in 2 minutes, and 53 sit ups in 2 minutes. Now that I'm in the 27-31 age bracket, I get a whopping 20:30 to run 2 miles, have to do 17 push ups and only 45 sit ups.

That may not seem like it makes a huge difference, but trust me, it does. At least mentally.

Now that my unit is under a new command, they have been buckling down on our paperwork (hah), and our personnel files. Which means they have uploaded all the important stuff to the "system." Which means they (the people in charge) actually SEE who has been passing or failing PT tests. If you fail, your record gets "flagged." That's bad. Once you are flagged, you have a certain amount of time in which to retake the PT test, and pass. Or else.

Or else what, you ask? Well, for one, you can be kicked out of the army for not upholding the physical standards. That doesn't seem so bad for me, seeing as how this isn't really a career choice. BUT, they can also take back any awarded bonuses. By signing the contract, one is 'promising' to abide by all USAR standards, PT being one of them. Fail PT, and you may have to pay back that awesome re-enlistment bonus you got 3 years ago (and by "you" I really mean "me").  I have been working hard. I do NOT want to have to pay back $15,000 to the military, of which I only saw about $11K after it got taxed. That money is gone, as are my old student loans that it paid off.

For the past 2 days (today included) I have run the 2-mile within a passing time. Today just barely, but it was still passing! I have also been regularly knocking out 45 sit ups in a 2 minute time frame with no problems. Push ups I've never had a problem with, though I did practice those as well.

This is getting a little long, so I'll try to wrap this up.  The PT test is tomorrow, Saturday the 24th. I consider myself "on track" for passing. The only problem is having to get up at the ass-crack of dawn to go take it. I've been running about 4 hours after I wake up, after I've had breakfast, finished my coffee, worked a bit, etc. and THEN gone out. This cannot happen tomorrow morning unless I wake up at midnight and pretend that 5AM is really noon. SO, we shall see what happens.

I am confident, for once, about the sit up portion. I really do think I can pass that. The run, though I did run it under 20:30 the past 2 days, is another story. I am really going to have to push myself and ignore the fact that my legs will be tired. And the fact that I have a legion of blisters on my left heel.

Blogging, and Exercise

I have just entered a Sprint Premier contest. I had to write, in at least 150 words, what I'm really fast at. It is judged off originality, creativity, and humor. My entry was pretty lame, I won't even mention it here. BUT, it's always nice to think about actually being chose as a semi-finalist, which there will be 10 of. Each semi-finalist wins an HTC EVO and a year of free service. I can't remember if ALL semi-finalists have to do it (should have read the official rules better?) but then they have to blog about using the HTC Evo, and 4 semi-finalists will be chosen as Finalists, each will get to spend a long weekend vacation in a nice place (Vegas, Maui, can't remember the other two places), and blog about their vacation. People/readers vote on the "best" blog, and that finalist wins an extra $4,000. Sounds pretty sweet to me.

Not that I'm going to win, but hey, I definitely WON'T win if I don't enter. So I entered.

On a happy note, I have been "training" for the upcoming PT (physical training) test that is happening this Saturday the 24th. Today, for the first time in [years], I have managed to run a passing time on the 2-mile! I have ALSO been able to do a passing amount of sit ups (under 2 minutes) for the past week now.

Dare I say that I will finish with a GO this weekend? Oh yes, I dare!  I will run once more tomorrow. Every successive run I have done, I have been able to shave time off, so I'm looking at tomorrow being no different.  Even if I do only as good as I did today, I should still be golden for Saturday. What MAY trip me up is taking the test at a god-awful early hour, but I don't see that being too big of a problem if I can get a good night's sleep beforehand.

So here is what I will be doing for the next few days: Drink water. Eat dinner. Wake up, eat breakfast, drink water, take Caelyn to daycare, RUN. Drink more water. Eat lunch. Eat dinner. Go to sleep early[er]. Wake up, drink water. Eat breakfast. Drive to Ft. Totten. Take PT test. PASS PT test. Celebrate!

Filet Patterns reprise

I decided to try a simple looking filet pattern anyway. One of an elephant. I either used yarn that was too heavy (it was normal sport), or my double crochets need to be tighter, OR my chains need to be looser. It came out way elongated, and was twice as wide as it should have been (ok that's an exaggeration, but it was much wider than it should have been). Maybe I have just learned that I need to do 1-dc blocks instead of 2-dc blocks for a filet [when working with sport yarn]. My mom is doing a shawl, but in the right weight cotton thread and it seems to be coming out fine.

I haven't given up on the filet yet, but I may try to make up smaller charts to practice with rather than trying a 60x30 right off the bat. I was really unprepared for how big it worked up. It was a good learning experience and thankfully did not go wrong enough to scare me away from the filet.

Filet Patterns

So, during my many searches for "free animal crochet patterns" I frequently came across these square charts called "filet." I had no idea why they came up or what the heck to do with them until I read an article in a fine crochet book that was sent to me by a friend (Thanks, Amy!). I saw the title "Filet" and then saw the grid pattern and a huge light bulb came up over my head.

SO, without further ado, I searched and searched for simple animal outline filet patterns. To no avail. I have it in my head that it would be awesome to have a number of different animal outlines all of equal block-size, and then put them together as a blanket. I'm not sure how to go about procuring these outline charts and have no hope of making them myself (for being artistically challenged in the drawing department).

I also tried to explain to my brother what I THOUGHT might work after I found a picture of animal shadows... shrink them down to about 60x60 pixels, then zoom in so I can see the blocks (individual pixels) and make the pattern from that. Either he can't do it, or he doesn't quite understand what I'm going for.

In light of this new development, I may just have to try my hand at an icon maker and see what I can come up with. Anyone else have any ideas?

5-pg Assignment: The Dreamers

So I guess since I posted my other stories, I'll put this one up, too. The assignment was simply to write a 5-pg story (double spaced), so about 2 1/2 pgs single spaced. Enjoy, I guess. :)


The Gypsies had arrived. There was no mistaking the clanging and hammering as they parked their wagons and put together the stands and tents. Morgan pulled his blankets up over his head in vain to try and block out the shouting and singing. He hated Gypsy season. Sure, he could buy quality silks and teas for his mother. He could barter for exotic woods to use in his father's carpentry shop. He even let himself enjoy some of the nightly revelry that went on around their great bonfires.

What he did not like was their "Exhibition of the Unnatural." It disgusted him: The white horse with a carved ivory horn strapped to its forehead. The woman with a beard which he could bet was only a beaver pelt. The desert vultures that they insisted were Harpies. The strong men, the contortionists, the fortune tellers, and all the rest.

A sharp knock on the front door forced Morgan up out of bed. "One moment!" He pulled on his pants and grabbed a shirt as he crossed the width of his modest-sized house. He reached the front and opened the door, revealing his best friend, Mari.

"Morgan! You really should have built closer to town." Her blustery auburn hair tickled his nose as she walked in past him.

"You say that every time you come here," he countered. "What brings you here so early?"

"Oh come on, Morgan. Please tell me you haven't been hearing them set up?"

"I couldn't sleep half the night because of all the racket."

"Well, I suppose that's what you get for living so close to the clearing, now isn't it?"

Her playful tone forced a chuckle out of him. It always did, no matter what the situation. "Yes, it's my own fault knowing full well that that is where the Gypsies pitch camp every year."

Her laughter danced around him like wind chimes. "Come on, and maybe we can catch a peek of the new beasts they brought with them."

Morgan groaned. "New? What more could they possibly pass off? You know I don't go in for that stuff."

"I know, but please? For me?" Her feet stepped ever so lightly across the room and she took his hand in hers. It was warm, despite the chill of the morning that had come in behind her when he had opened the door. Morgan could never refuse Mari.

"All right, Mari." Morgan tried to sound reluctant, but Mari's smile left him no room to argue. He got up, put on his boots, and followed her outside.

The two friends made their way through the trees, around the outside edge of the clearing. They could see all the Gypsy men, women, and children, in their brightly dyed clothing, helping to set things up before the townsfolk started arriving.

"This better be quick," he warned Mari, who was a few steps ahead of him.

"Just keep up," she answered. "They always keep the good stuff way in the back until nightfall, don't they? It's only a bit farther." True to her word, at the far side of the clearing were the covered wagons. Some were the homes of the actors, and others were covered cages that held the animals. Larger ones sat at the tree line, and smaller ones extended beyond into the forest. As they crept closer, they could hear whinnying, growling, and clawing from underneath the bright red and yellow canvases.

With every last Gypsy busy with other things, Morgan and Mari had no trouble approaching the closest wagon to them. Morgan hung back, but Mari lifted up the corner of the canvas to peer underneath. "Oh, the unicorn had a foal!" Mari exclaimed as quietly as she could. Morgan rolled his eyes, but bent down to look with her.

"They don't even have their horns on yet," he noticed.

"Well, they'll be unicorns tonight," Mari tried to defend them. "Don't be such a spoil sport."

"I'm not."

"You are. Let's see what's in the next one." Mari stood up and listened at the next wagon before trying to peek. A low grumble issued from inside. "I think this one is the tigers."

"You're not going to look at them?"

"No." Mari shook her head and shot Morgan a lopsided grin. "I don't like teasing animals that could eat me."

"Good point. What's in the next one? It looks kind of small." Although Morgan would never have gone there of his own accord, Mari's enthusiasm was catching. Mari was right behind him as he reached a hand out to pull the curtain aside. The canvas draping it, unlike the other bright colors on the other wagons, was pitch black. He hesitated. Mari gripped his arm.

"What's the matter? Are you scared?" It was that playful tone again. Morgan, in one fluid motion, threw the curtain aside and spun to face Mari, letting out his best monster-growl to give her a bit of a scare. It had the desired effect: Mari jumped back and gave a shriek before dissolving into giggles. She was about to throw a punch at his arm when her focus suddenly shifted to what was inside the cage.

Morgan followed her gaze and stood, as she was, staring in disbelief. A young woman was lying on the floor of the cage, her eyes closed, her arms curled up to cradle her head as she slept. Her skin was pale as ivory, and her scant clothing was a stark white. Her gold-spun hair flowed down over her shoulders and onto the floor. Her most striking features, though, were that her body seemed to be emitting a soft white light, and that sprouting from her back were two large feathered white wings.

"That can't be real," Morgan breathed out. He walked forward and gripped the bars of the cage as his eyes searched the dark corners of the enclosure. "Mari, she's not glowing. It's just some weird trick. And the wings… they can be made up to look like that. Dove feathers, I've seen them in festivals over at Dirkholme. It's all made up."

Mari stood beside him. "I don't know, Morgan. Look closely." Morgan glanced at the woman in the cage, then looked at the woman beside him. He saw Mari's blue eyes twinkling in the pale glow, and he saw her mouth parted open in a smile. Her whole face was awash in true wonder. "She's an angel, Morgan."

Morgan wanted to look back at the alleged angel, but he couldn't look away from Mari. He had always known that he loved her, even since they were kids together playing in the forest behind their parents' houses. He liked to think that she loved him, too, but she was a dreamer. And he was, well, not. She believed in the fantastic, in the unknown, while he was a realist. He didn't waste thoughts on what he couldn't see or touch for himself.

He felt the warmth of her body next to his, and saw in her expression that she would say she believed. She would speak of it as if it were real, just like she spoke of the unicorns as unicorns even without the horns strapped to their heads.

Morgan spoke gently, almost unwilling to break the silence. "Mari, let's go before someone finds us here." Mari looked up at him. Her expression had not changed, though her eyes were full of unfallen tears.

"Have you ever imagined something so beautiful?" she asked him.

"No," he replied simply. It was the truth. He didn't think of things that didn't affect his every day goings-on. She turned from him and began to walk back the way they had come. They went on in silence for a while until Mari stopped and turned to him.

"Do you believe in anything you can't see with your eyes?"

Morgan thought for a moment before he replied. "No, I don't think so. It wouldn't do me any good if I did, would it?"

Mari sighed and looked down. "I suppose it wouldn't."

Morgan could tell that he hadn't produced the answer she wanted, but he wasn't sure how to fix it. He reached out and took her hand in hers. "You've always told me about your fantastic dreams, ever since we were little. Do you dream of angels?"

"Yes," Mari answered without hesitation. "Do you?"

"No."

"Oh…"

"I don't need to dream of angels or other things because every night I dream of you."

They walked back in silence, hand in hand, a smile on each of their faces.