How Did I Get Here?

Friday

Today we had a Shamrock run on the base and because I’m the Company Commander, about the last thing on my mind was actually running it.

Oh, don’t get me wrong, I did run it but leading up to it, it was me running around like said chicken with said head cut completely off.

You see, the Battalion was supposed to be registered for the event en masse but this fell through so at the last minute, everyone was trying to sign up to get their shirts and it was a mess. This was particularly irritating seeing how the Turkey Trot was screwed up ten ways to Sunday and I vowed I would allow a repeat performance.

Yeah, that’s what I vowed. And a vow I broke (actually, “got broken for me” but now we’re splitting hairs…)

By the time the actually race came around, I was content to just hang in the back and jog along with friends. After all, it was a Friday (a non-running day for me) and I had a big run tomorrow. And, it was a 5K so how hyped could I possibly get about this?

I jogged along, perfectly content to just shuffle and then, of course, I completely lost my marbles and started passing people like I was running through a forest of mannequins.

I’m such a schmuck!

I was going almost full speed but I had not started timing myself so I have no idea exactly how fast I ran the race. It wouldn’t have been all that spectacular because I started out so slow anyway but by the end, I was huffing, puffing, sweating, and wondering what exactly is wrong with me.

After the race, I hung out and talked to people. I had ONE beer (it was St Patty’s Day, after all). I saw the Red Bull car drive up right as the race was started and I specifically told the Red Bull chick, “I’ll be right back,” meaning after the race. Why they were just showing up as the race BEGAN, I don’t know but by the time I got back as I said I would, the girl just looked at me with a crinkle in her forehead and that fake frown…

“Sorry, we’re out.”

“What? I said I‘d be right back!”

I was in no mood to bicker with her. Red Bull was dead to me this day. I know, it won’t last but ever since I’ve been pounding Monsters, Red Bull has taken a backseat anyway.

(That all sounded terribly crude, I know…)

So I hung out, talked to people, and listened to them giving away stuff based on a ticket they gave you. I knew if I won anything valuable I would just give it to one of my Marines but it was fun to partake in the anticipation.

I didn’t win shit.

I was actually getting a bit cold with the breeze and the sweat from the run. The sun was shining but the breeze made it so you didn’t feel it.

I left from there to go to a BBQ at the boathouse where they were farewelling a First Sergeant from Service Company who will be hanging up the Cloth of our Nation after 25 years of faithful service. By this time I had met up with Paola so she drove me over there and we got there just in time to see the gift-giving and the speeches.

What do you say after 25 years of service? There is no way you can sum up everything and I thought it was a pretty tall order to ask someone to sum it up in one speech. There is just no way.

We stayed for a bit but I wanted to try to get home before the traffic hit too bad. Friday afternoons are historically the worst and, hello, Friday. So I went back to the office, changed over, packed up a ton of stuff that had gathered during the week, and made a dash home.

“Boy, you got fried!” said Carrie when I walked through the door.

“Whaaa?” was my intelligent response.

“No, I was only in the sun during the race, a little afterwards, and at the BBQ. Anyway, I couldn’t have gotten…. Holy shit.”

It was at that moment that I looked in the mirror to see that my head looked like one huge, angry zit.

It seems that the breeze was hiding the fact that the sun was out in full force and since I was in PT uniform (no hat authorized), I exposed my whitened head to the raw sun for longer than I thought. I run at lunch in the sun but I never go out without a hat so the skin normally covered by my hat (and cover when in uniform) was virginal.

Now it’s Friday night and I’m facing the prospect of having a seriously lobstered head. My forehead is a tight, pink collection of raw nerves and my neck feels like I had a branding iron roll across it a few dozen times.

Tomorrow, I have to put on my Blues.

Son of a bitch.

Well, the lemonade is that it’s Friday.

(ouch, lemon on tender burnt skin… ow, ow, ow, ow…..)

Oh yeah, happy St Patty’s Day!

Free Advice for Today: “Remember the deal’s not done until the check has cleared the bank.”