I learned some things about myself, too: what I’m good at, what I’m not so good at, how I react under pressure, and how I manage stress. But there are a bunch of other positive habits instilled by general military discipline that we come to take for granted. Here are just a few.
When I lived in Japan, I didn’t own a car. I had a bike, but it got stolen on base (naturally), and with less than a year left before returning to the US, I started walking instead.
A walking commute is really easy in a place like Japan, where public transportation is robust and accessible. I had my walk to work down to a science:
1. Leave the house for a twelve-minute walk to the train station;
2. Five minutes on the train;
3. A ten-minute walk from the train station to the base gate;
4. Ten minutes from the gate to the gym’s locker room, where I stashed my uniforms;
5. A quick costume change, then, depending on where it was parked, a five- or ten-minute walk to the ship.
After a few weeks, I could predict to the minute what time I would cross the brow in the morning, and I was always on time.
The combination of walking to work and running around the ship often resulted in jubilant vibration on my wrist sometime before lunch: “Congrats!” my fitness watch would say. “You met your step goal of 10,000 steps!”
I took for granted how easy it was to be active when it was organically built in to the day. Coming back to the US was a rude awakening.
Days deployed: 58 (thank me for my service)
Hours sat in window: 80
Air medals earned: 0
Times carrying the pisser: 3
Times spilled pisser on self: 0 (an improvement)
Fake fires: innumerable
Emails from Mom: 20
Emails from Dad: 1
Longest uninterrupted study session on single subject because I’m too polite/awkward to say “alright, I get it”: 3 hours
Gym sessions: 45
Deadlift working weight: +50lbs
Body weight: +5 lbs
Times mediated interpersonal drama: 4
Times I thought everyone was trolling me but they weren’t and I got sad for no reason: 3
Books read: 12
Overdue travel videos completed: 2
Seasons of Letterkenny watched: 2
Times said “ferda” or “dirty fucking dangles, boys” or “crush some sandos” or “dust on praccy”: sorry
Celeste C-Sides completed: 5
Times listened to Cuz I Love You by Lizzo: 58 (daily)
Average hours of sleep: 6
Ambien intake: ???
Times sleep interrupted by whoosh of crows alighting from roof: any night not on the Ambo
D&D sessions: 7
Times teased by pilots for playing D&D: every opportunity
Crew diss tracks written by rider: 8
Actual qualifications competed: 0
Meaningful contributions to the mission: 0
Days until command closes for good: 340
Days until I get out of the Navy: 340
Our deployments are frequent but short: eight weeks, a few times a year. Two months is the perfect amount of time to experiment with something new, especially if it can lead to a positive habit.
Last time, I was out for twice as long, and I didn’t shave the entire time. It was a psychological struggle from start to finish, and I was relieved to finally get rid of my body hair when I got home. I’m not proud of it, but it’s true. I tried it. It wasn’t for me.
This time: intermittent fasting. It was a lot easier. (???)
I got the idea from the people I work with. “Metabolic window!” one of them shrieks about halfway through the day, like a ring of a bell to bring pigs to the trough. They all swear by it, though, saying that it helped them stay lean but also maintain muscle mass.
These were not my goals. My issue – my perpetual torment – is that I feel completely ruled by cravings. Being hungry makes me miserable, and, for some reason, I am always hungry, always thinking about the next meal. I don’t know why I’m like this, but I am, and I don’t want to be. My hope was that regular, daily fasting would help calibrate or at least manage my appetite such that it didn’t consume so much of my brainspace.
Anyway, the idea behind IF is simple: you fast for longer than you feed. Different people use different techniques, but most common seems to be 16 hours of fasting and 8 hours of feeding – which, in practical terms, amounts to skipping breakfast or dinner. No caloric intake at all while in the fasting phase.
It is particularly interesting how we seem to be moving beyond the “six small meals a day” trend that was so pervasive only a decade ago, at least in terms of popular nutrition. Intermittent fasting is almost exactly the opposite.
I didn’t execute this perfectly, especially at first. I didn’t want to give up my coffee-with-sweetener at the start of the day. Then I had a bottle of Black Blood of the Earth shipped to the deployment site, which provided my morning go-go potion and kept me in the fasting phase for an extra few hours. (Black coffee allegedly does not break the metabolic window.)
We can’t drink while deployed, and I try not to eat any of the vast abundance of delicious desserts on prominent display at the galley (again: my eternal misery). So no alcohol or sweets. Besides that, though, I didn’t really change anything. In fact, I ate like trash. People assume that because I don’t eat meat, I’m very healthy, all the time. Not so, I promise you. My deployment diet was 90% potato with the previous food-service contractor, and when they changed over, it became 90% bread in the convenient form of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. So, yeah, not a particularly balanced diet.
“Please,” my body wailed. “Feed me a vegetable. Just one, once, please.”
And that’s the wild thing: despite that, it sort of worked.
Dealing with the hunger pains was extremely challenging at first, especially during the last hour or two of the fast when I knew feasting was imminent. In time, though, it became surprisingly easy to tolerate, an annoying but manageable ache. Let’s take a moment here to appreciate how incredibly, horribly privileged this sounds: while I was whining from being hungry, I always had food nearby, ready to eat as soon as I was within my window. I knew, at all times, that the hunger was self-imposed and could be terminated at any time. There are so, so many people who are hungry in the world, and not because they choose to be for the sake of a strange body experiment. And that sucks. I think that made this exercise worthwhile possibly even in a moral sense.
After a time, then, being hungry didn’t feel like the worst possible suffering anymore. I could walk by the donut counter and not feel actual agony over not being able to eat any of them. IF significantly reduced my biggest weaknesses: my appetite and my cravings for sweets. That alone is a (Borat voice) great success.
A downside, though: after six weeks of uninterrupted, fairly reliable intermittent fasting, I started noticing a significant decline in energy and difficulty sleeping. This could have been attributed to any number of other things going on in a deployment setting, but in case anyone else experiences similar symptoms, it might be a good idea to take a break for a while. And also to talk to a doctor before starting any new diet!
Overall, I’m glad I gave this a try. It’s the sort of thing I could stick to for some time, possibly even longer than eight weeks. Will I, though? Probably not. But I know that intermittent fasting is something that works for me if I need to stop being such a baby about being hungry and wanting donuts all the time.
The Nike running app – now called Nike+ Run Club – has gone through several transformations since I started using it, but its core remains more or less the same: it uses GPS to track your run, keep pace, and provide statistics. Achievements came and went and came back again. Social networking features were added. But NRC’s best feature – why I stay committed to this one app – is its coaching programs.
My running ability comes in ebbs and flows. For example, after finishing a particularly grueling training last month, I arrived in Hawaii physically depleted and unadjusted to the climate. I come back to NRC’s running programs time and time again because I know it will get me back to where I want to be with running. This time, specifically, I made a six-week program with the intention of preparing for the PRT. (Spoiler: I got a 12:30 – not my best time, but one that I am deeply proud of, given the circumstances.)
There’s nothing special about me. NRC spits out a program and I do it to the best of my ability. It always, always pays off.
Here is how to make a running program on NRC, and what you might expect from it.
On New Years Eve 2014, my friends and I went tubing in the snow, and on the way back, the car got a flat tire. We spent hours in the cold waiting for AAA, talking and teasing each other and reminiscing about the year that was quickly coming to a close. 2014 tried to stick it to us for the last time, but we made it home just before the big countdown. After that, everyone agreed that we wanted an easy year for 2015. “Please, please just be chill.”
For me, things turned out very well. Welcome to a really long post about a really great year!
When I came home for holiday leave, I kept hearing about how skinny I had gotten. This is very confusing to me because I’m the heaviest I’ve been since 2012. (It’s also a little baffling how easily people offer commentary on my body, but that’s probably for another post.) My focus on running this year has changed my physique a little. It’s not better or worse, I think, just different.
I ran up “the hill” in Busan and around the harbor in Sydney. I set new race records (26:40 for 5k, 53:40 for 10k) and ran a half-marathon for the first time. I started training for a marathon but recently lost motivation for the longer runs. It is really hard to want to spend more than an hour on the treadmill after the workday. Plus, that kind of training demands a sacrifice from strength work. Going forward, I think I’m going to try a more balanced approach. I’m getting a little blasé about fitness because I’m sort of on autopilot now, and other hobbies have been dominating my time and attention. (Read: Fallout 4 came out.)
I haven’t seen my counselor since the week before the court-martial (more on this another time). Not professionally, at least. I bought her a little glass kangaroo in Sydney to put on her desk, and we chatted for a while when I dropped in to give it to her. She reminded me of how far I’ve come in 18 months. She also told me what I didn’t need to be in a crisis to come see her.
My counselor is one of the best things to happen to me in a long time. If you have ever considered going to counseling but have some reservations holding you back, please give it a try! I know it can be scary, but there is nothing wrong with talking to another person to make sense of things. We do it with each other all the time! But a professional gives you a sympathetic but unbiased perspective, which is invaluable.
With the exception of a few difficult times, I’ve been consistently happy. I’m learning to manage my anxiety in a constructive way. I’m really lucky to have the Navy and my family and friends as support systems. I couldn’t have done it without them. Thank you all for being there for me, especially when it wasn’t easy and I was difficult to love.
My goal was to read two books a month this year, one physical and one audio. I ended up reading 41! I’m proud of this. A 45-minute walk to and from work made this pretty easy. Here are my top five faves from what I read this year:
- Cryptonomicon by Neal Stephenson
- Jurassic Park by Michael Crichton
- Come As You Are by Emily Nagoski
- Bag of Bones by Stephen King
- Career of Evil by Robert Galbraith (JK Rowling)
I did two online classes on edx as well and both were challenging and fun! If you want to learn about something new but don’t want to spend money or, really, deal with rigorous academic demands, I highly recommend this website.
Still going to church, still trying to be a good Catholic. I got the chance to visit cathedrals in Nagasaki and Sydney and Zhangjiang, and while the differences were fascinating, it was the similarities that resonated most strongly with me.
I went to Christmas midnight Mass at home in an area that was mostly wealthy and white. The church and the choir were incredible, but I couldn’t help but notice how miserable the other parishioners looked. Maybe they were tired because it was so late. But, despite the beauty of the place and the joy of the celebration, the people around me made it feel like a funeral. It made me grateful for the joy and kindness that I see at the chapel on base. I’m going to miss it when I leave.
I made pretty poor decisions in terms of romantic partners this year. Fortunately, I can look back at them with only mild embarrassment instead of hurt or despair. It warrants serious reflection, though. Why do I find myself attracted to vacant, trifling people? Why do I give so much to people who give so little in return?
I don’t have the answers yet. Until I do, I think I need to be a little more choosy about in whom I invest any emotional energy.
We had a number of big certifications this year, including one for the system for which I’m responsible (which also involved a coworker and I desperately troubleshooting at the eleventh hour): TMI/MCI, 3M, ATFP, DC. We got the Battle E! I went to a few great schools, including the SAPR VA school, which was one of the most positive and useful experiences I’ve had in the Navy to date. I began my Reign of Terror as workcenter supervisor. We went to China, Singapore, Korea, Australia, Hong Kong, and Guam. I got my second warfare pin and got recognized as JSOQ, which, for some reason, doesn’t seem to happen often for my department. A big thank you to my chain of command for advocating for me!
There have been a lot of changes to my own division this year and most of them have been very positive. We got a bunch of motivated, hard-working, cheerful booters, and I adore each one of them. Our upper chain of command have been almost entirely replaced, and I’m learning a lot from our new leadership. I don’t dread going to work as much as I used to. I’m happy and grateful to be a part of my division. I don’t think I could have said that last year. (Actually, I know I wouldn’t have – I went TAD to engineering to get away from them.)
After coming home from one of our underways, I picked up the ukulele that had been sitting, neglected, in my closet. The challenges that frustrated me to the point of quitting seemed to fall away. I’m not good at it, but I love singing and making music, and it makes me happy even when it sounds like trash. No one has to listen to it but me! (And maybe my neighbors.)
I got a PS4 and have played The Last of Us, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Destiny, and Fallout 4, and if you’ve interacted with me for more than 30 seconds you know which of those takes the cake.
I didn’t see many movies this year, but of those that I did see, Mad Max: Fury Road was the best, and probably one of my favorite movies of all time. Honorable mentions to Jurassic World, The Martian, Spectre, and Star Wars: The Force Awakens.
I started writing a novel but was quickly reminded how much I struggle with writing fiction. I quit soon after. Oh well. I tried. Shout out to my friends who are still writing their stories! I see you!
Other adventures: I tried pole-dancing for the first time in Tokyo. The Patriots won the Super Bowl, and I cried about it at work. I went to Japan’s bizarre fertility festival. One of my friends made all of my favorite foods for my birthday, including a cheesecake. I bought a living room set! I went to the hot springs in Hakone. I also went to Kyoto via bullet train, where we got to dress up like ninja and samurai! I shot a bunch of guns for work (including M-16 full auto and a laser gun) and for fun (bird shoot while home on leave). I was reunited with a dear friend in Guam. I spent a day with Aboriginal people in Australia. I developed a taste for whiskey. I dressed up as Yuffie from FFVII for Halloween and spent the night in Tokyo. I hit $10k in savings. I cried at the airport on holiday leave when my friends showed up to greet me. Lots of crying this year, but, as opposed to 2014, most of it was happy tears!
GOALS FOR 2016
All in all, the best parts of this year came from my family and friends, old and new. It’s not just the big stuff, either. It’s the little moments that matter, and they most easily come to mind when I slide into one of those dark places. You guys make my world better just by being a part of it. Thank you for sharing your kindness, joy, humor, and passions with me. Thank you for being exactly who you are. And thank you for reading my blog!
Here are some things I’d like to do in the coming year:
- Climb Mt. Fuji! The ship will finally be around during climbing season. No excuses!
- Stay single. This will be challenging because I love to love. But I’ve been a serial monogamist since 2008, and it’s time for a break.
- Read 48 books, or more! (I may have a problem.)
- PCS. I guess this is inevitable but I’m still excited about it! I love Japan but I’m ready to start the next chapter of my Navy life.
- Be more diligent about journaling. Day-to-day events seem boring and unremarkable until time passes and you realize those things were actually very special!
I’ll finish with a story:
When I was home for the holidays, my dad and I were arguing about my Life Choices. We both agreed that the Navy is not a long-term situation for me. His perspective is economical: for each year that I spend in the Navy, I’m losing money that I would make at a better-salaried job. I argued that I was living comfortably and had opportunities from the Navy that I wouldn’t get any place else, and that I was going to enjoy it until it no longer served me. Things got a little tense.
After he left the room, I complained to my brother about the argument. “What if I look back on this fight in 30 years and realize that he was right?” I worried. My dad’s girlfriend, with whom I don’t have much of a relationship, told me, very seriously, “Don’t listen to him. Follow your heart.”
She didn’t have to support me. She didn’t have to weigh in at all. She had no dog in the fight; if anything, it was in her best interest to agree, at least outwardly, with my dad. But that simple vote of confidence reminded me that it’s okay to trust my instincts, that I have the support of good people, and most of all, that things in my life are going pretty well. I’m a very lucky lady.
The idea of getting “too big” is probably pretty hilarious to most male gym rats. Growth is the goal, always the goal, sometimes defined in inches or pounds but always striving toward bigger. Strength is an accessory to the fact. Cutting fat, an addendum, often remembered last minute before spring break after months of eating in excess. Most men, at least, recognize that putting on mass takes a tremendous amount of effort and focus. Very rarely does it happen by accident. Imagine: the skinniest dude you know goes to the gym a few times and wakes up one morning to find himself suddenly, inexplicably massive. “I didn’t want to get huge,” he’d lament, reaching a veined, bulging forearm into the microwave to retrieve his taquitos. “But my buddy made me do leg day once and now none of my pants fit my thighs.” A tragedy.
The opposite is true for women. It took two decades of myth deconstruction, especially after the heroin-chic look of the 90s, to get a casual female gym-goer to approach the weight room. Why did it take us so long to figure out that showing muscle tone requires muscle mass? (Probably because of folks like Tracy Anderson espousing that women should lift no more than 3-pound weights.*) Now, in 2015, a lean, athletic appearance is in vogue. Women throwing around some serious weight at the gym – once an oddity, later a “cool girl, one-of-the-guys” quality – is, wonderfully, from my experience, a regularity. Lady lifters tend to enjoy better health and self-esteem. Guys be like, dat squat booty. Everyone’s happy.
So what happens when you do get big enough?
When I started exercising, I didn’t have a particular aesthetic goal in mind. I figured I might like myself better if I cut back on mac and cheese and World of Warcraft and made myself sweat a few times per week, I guess? So discovering and actually enjoying weight lifting was a happy accident. I was extremely uncomfortable at first, especially sharing the weight room with, you know, the real athletes at my school, but time and research made things feel more and more natural. Soon I was strutting in there with my head held high. I wasn’t strong or fast but I was committed, and if gym rats respect anything, it’s persistence. Hitting a new PR made me feel invincible, unstoppable. “I never thought I could lift that,” I’d think, “but I did it. So what else have I been telling myself that I can’t do?” And, in time, I also bought in to the indefinite-growth, gains-for-gains’-sake mentality; with hard work, I would keep getting stronger, to infinity and beyond. Appearance and body weight were irrelevant, as long as my lifts were going up.
Ship life changed that. Maintaining a serious gym schedule underway can be a challenge. Slowly, over the course of a year, lifting sank lower and lower on my list of priorities. Gym time itself often felt like a luxury; I was happy just to jump on whatever equipment was immediately available and get out in less than an hour. I gained a few pounds – nothing too noticeable, nothing to feel bad about – and also a bit of complacency, which was worse than the extra body fat.
And then I started running.
Running, for the record, is the worst. Every step is pain, each mile an exploration into new and exciting dimensions of torture. Thighs slapping together, chafing. Gasping, lungs aching – am I voluntarily trying to suffocate myself? My glasses slide down my face and sweat rolls into my eyes, my mouth, and my shirt lands with a wet plop on the floor before I hobble into the shower. So I’m not a fan. Or, at least, I wasn’t. I ran underway more or less out of necessity, since, with limited resources, it’s the simplest and most accessible form of exercise. At some point this year, though, something changed. I was running more often than I was lifting. I stopped dreading cardio. Sometimes, I even looked forward to a run, particularly those on the main deck in view of the setting sun. For a once-devout disciple of the iron, this was a terrifying development. So much of my identity, I thought, had centered around my strength and my gainz. Lifting, at one time, had made me different, made people respect me, admire me, my PRs, my ass, and – wait, who was I doing this for again?
Maybe scaling back on the weights wouldn’t be the end of the world. Maybe running – becoming one of “those people” – wouldn’t prompt an identity crisis. Maybe athleticism falls across a broad spectrum and isn’t limited to brute strength – shocking, I know. These were new perspectives, ones I had only considered theoretically, detached from myself and my goals. I remember trying on new swimsuits recently – strapless bandeau tops, perfect for correcting those crew-neck tan-lines – and observing my body as though for the first time. My lats and chest and shoulders exploded out of the top of the suit. I looked ridiculous, somehow big and small at the same time. But I was also bursting with pride. This mass is me, all me, all mine. I made this. This is physical, visual evidence of years of hard work and commitment, of trying and failing, of stepping outside of my comfort zone and pushing myself past my limits. I am, in fact, “big enough” – strong enough, fast enough, good enough.
You’ll see me by the pool in those swimsuits. You’ll still see me in the gym, too, and running around base. It’s okay to let your priorities change. Sometimes you have to sacrifice one goal for the sake of another. “Good enough” is not an appeal for mediocrity or complacence. It’s not a rallying cry to abandon your goals. But it’s not quitting or failure, either. It’s a realistic assessment of your accomplishments and recognition of your achievements. It’s about self-acceptance and pride in self-creation. Most of all, it’s about allowing yourself to experience the peace that comes from completion. And it’s nice to move on.
* In a spectacular demonstration of thoughtlessness, Gwenyth says in this very same video that the arm she uses to carry her 30-pound son is less flabby than the other.
I bought the FITBIT CHARGE HR about a month ago based on a very positive review from a shipmate. (Actually, I bought the device ages ago, and it took more than a month to arrive. I guess these things are in-demand and back-ordered.) This is my first experience with a fitness tracker. Here are my most and least favorite aspects.
This device tracks a whole lot of stuff. Steps, miles, elevation, heart rate, calories burned, sleep, and activity – all monitored without any user input. As something worn on the wrist, it is very unobtrusive. Best of all, its default display is the time and date! If I was going to be wearing something on my wrist all the time, it had better double as a watch. Many fitness trackers that I researched lack this simple, essential feature. The data it gathers seems to be mostly accurate; sometimes I’ll watch it count the steps as I’m walking, or I’ll review the mileage after a run. Because of its placement on the wrist, however, it probably counts some non-walking movements as steps, but this number is probably negligible.
I think the strongest (and weakest; see below) advantage of a FITBIT tracker is the accompanying app. It is very intuitive and easy to use, and it does much more than displaying data. The user can track food and water intake. The app can scan bar codes and allows manual inputs for calorie counting. If the user has a weight-loss goal, the app will make suggestions based on difficulty and amount of time to reach a certain weight (ie, a difficult goal of 5lbs in a month as opposed to a leisurely goal of 5lbs in three months). The most fun aspect of the app is its social feature. Users can challenge others to have the highest step counts throughout the workweek or weekend. I’m not ordinarily a competitive person but I was surprised by how eager I was to be just as active as everyone else. For better or worse, comparing oneself to others is easily the most motivating feature of the app.
For folks with consistent and reliable access to the internet – and I think we’re beginning to take this sort of thing for granted – this won’t be an issue. When I finally got the CHARGE HR in the mail, my ship had just gotten underway. I expected I would be able to use the device on its own until I could download the app. Not so. Setting up the device requires internet, bluetooth, the app, and, for me and for many who neglect this stuff, the latest version of the iOS software. The device was completely unusable until we returned home – even setting up the time and date had to be configured via the app, use of which also requires an internet connection. Because of the app’s dependence on internet access, much of the tracker’s functionality and features are inaccessible to me once I go underway: I can’t modify the time or date (annoying when we cross time zones), sync my data from the device to the app (including being able to view heart rate and sleep patterns), set vibration alarms, etc. Many of these things should be accessible solely via bluetooth. During the ship’s operational cycle, this is going to be a huge inconvenience. I will say this in the tracker’s defense, however: it did store three or four weeks of data and synced it to the app without issue when we returned home. Nothing ended up getting lost, so I’m willing to forgive this deficiency.
This is truly baffling. How is a fitness device intended to be worn on the body not waterproof? It is advertised as “sweatproof” and “splashproof” but is not recommended to be used while swimming or showering. What happens when swimming or another water-based sport is the user’s primary fitness activity? I can buy a $10 watch that is water resistant to at least 30m. Why couldn’t this $150 device have been engineered to do the same?
Overall, I’m really enthusiastic about the FITBIT CHARGE HR. It encourages me to be more active in a very simple “I should get off my butt and walk around” sort of way. I need this especially underway when I’m more sedentary than usual. The heart rate monitor and sleep tracker help me better understand the quality of my workouts and sleep. The longest I’ve gotten out of the battery is almost four days, but I tend to charge it whenever I remove it to shower. Best of all, the black version goes with anything that I wear.
I don’t think anyone, regardless of their goals, needs a fitness tracker. But, if you’re interested in incorporating into your life a subtle reminder about your activity level, the CHARGE HR is a fun and fascinating luxury.
UPDATE, 20MAY2015: The pedometer/mileage function is a little inaccurate while running. It seems to be a half-mile short for each run of 3-4 miles, and nearly a mile short for a 10k. I used this page and a bit of trial and error for calibration.
UPDATE, 09AUG2015: Somewhere between Australia and Japan, the button on the side of the device fell off. I have no idea what caused it – all I do is run on the treadmill. It is surprisingly hard to use the device without the button. I emailed FitBit to request a new one, but I am still pretty disappointed in the fragility and poor craftsmanship of the thing.
Briefly, for the uninitiated: the Navy has semi-annual fitness assessments (PRT). Every six months, we weigh in and do a fitness test consisting of sit-ups, push-ups, and cardio. Those who fail either the body composition (BCA) or physical aptitude (PFA) assessments are assigned to a remedial fitness program (FEP) until the next PRT. If a member fails the PRT three times within four years, he or she gets separated from the Navy. Command fitness leaders (CFL) oversee PRTs twice a year and FEP in between. When the start of the next PRT cycle is ten weeks away, the command issues a 10-week notice which is essentially a schedule of events. 10 weeks is usually when people start caring about the PRT again (trying to cut weight, practicing push-ups, etc).
Guess what? If we start the next cycle in April, we’re as close as 20 weeks away from the next PRT. If you’re in FEP, or if you barely squeezed by this year and want to stay out of FEP next year, the time to start caring about the PRT is now! Right now!
Make a few small changes, stay consistent, and you won’t have to worry about stomach wraps, hours in the sauna, and starvation in 10 weeks. You won’t injure yourself trying to do too much physical activity in too little time in preparation for the PFA.
So let’s get started today! Here are some lifestyle changes that, if you begin now, will make your life much easier in the spring. It’s time to get our minds right and commit to the challenge ahead of us.
KNOW YOUR WEAKNESS
Food is my weakness. Each and every time I sit down to eat, or walk past the desserts, or get invited to go out, I have to recommit to my goals. Left to my own devices, I will gain weight in the blink of an eye from sugar, alcohol, and carbs.
If you’re a BCA failure, you have to dial in your diet. It’s not fun or glamorous but there is absolutely no way around it. No amount of exercise will redeem you if you’re not eating right.
If you’re a PFA failure, start small and slowly build up your physical capabilities. Here is a program for running. Here is a program for push-ups. Here is a program for sit-ups. Not a single one of them says, “Week 1: wake up and run five miles without breaking a sweat.” It takes time, and right now, you have time. Make the best of it.
STOP DRINKING CALORIES
Do you know how many calories are in a Starbucks coffee? The store here on base has a calorie chart right next to the cashier. When I saw that the small-sized coffee I ordered was almost 500 calories, I nearly threw it away. I could eat four apples for that many calories, and I’d probably have more energy from them, too.
The elimination of sugary drinks – energy drinks, dessert-coffees, sodas – from your diet could easily help you drop weight. In fact, if you’re trying to cut weight, there is no reason at all to be drinking your calories, especially not on a daily basis. Make that Starbucks coffee a special treat and drink regular coffee during the week instead. If you hit the chu-hi stand more than once a week, scale it back to a few times a month instead. Try getting a full night’s sleep instead of relying on energy drinks.
PLAN MEALS IN ADVANCE
Yeah, it sucks to eat a meal you brought from home when everyone else in your shop is eating stuffed-crust pizza, but it sucks to get kicked out of the Navy, too. McDonald’s and Subway are convenient and plausibly even delicious but planning meals out in advance removes the need for a quick, easy solution to hunger, one which brings you farther away from your body composition or fitness goals.
Have a plan beforehand and stick to it, so when the temptation arises to do what everyone else is doing, you’ll have something else to fall back on. Eat at the galley, which is both healthy and cheap. Bring a lunchbox of leftovers to work. Fill your fridge with leans meats, fruits, and veggies. Be uncool; own it. Get out of FEP. Have a killer body and zero regrets.
Find something you enjoy, or at least can tolerate, and do it as often as possible. This doesn’t mean super high intensity for hours and hours. 20 or 30 minutes of exercise – sweating, heavy breathing, accelerated heart rate – is all it takes. You might not realize it right away, but a little bit of effort every day pays off in the long run. Push yourself and be patient.
If you failed the run, you gotta run more. If you failed sit-ups or push-ups, you gotta practice those. If those are things you hate, you don’t have to do them every day – we’ll do a lot of that in FEP. But try to get away from the mindset that exercise is an unpleasant chore. Navy exercise is not all exercise. In your own time, do what works for you.
Sweat it out. Hydrate. Eat good food. Rest. In 20 weeks, FEP will be in your rearview. And, if you stick to good habits during the whole year, you won’t have to worry about the BCA or PFA ever again.
If you need more specific advice or someone to keep you accountable, I’m here for you. Message me, talk to me at work or at FEP, leave a comment. Whatever it is that you need to do, I want you to succeed!
Today, I weighed in at 147lbs, more than ten pounds under the maximum for my height. Out of curiosity (and to make a point), I asked to get taped as well. Here are my measurements:
Neck: 12 inches
Waist: 30 inches
Hips: 39 inches
Throw those numbers into the BCA Formula of Mysteries and I’m over 30% body fat.
I am, of course, not 30% body fat. I know what I look like at 30%+ body fat. Because of the female circumference measurement formula, however, if I don’t stay under my weight max – if I gain more than a single inch on my waist or hips – I will fail the BCA and go from a Command Fitness Leader to the Navy’s fitness remediation program.
(To note: if I use my neck measurement and the average between my waist and hips with the male formula, the result is much closer to what I actually am – around 25%.)
As an ACFL, it might be hypocritical of me to say so, but I think most of the Navy’s policies on health and fitness are heavy-handed and inconsistent. Body composition does not determine fitness and vice-versa. If the Navy was truly concerned for the health of its members, it would ban smoking on ships, provide healthier meal choices, and drastically alter regulation command fitness. Taping is one of many unreasonable Navy “solutions,” particularly the female BCA formula. I can’t depend on it to redeem me; even someone like me has to stay under her weight limit or she will be too fat for the Navy.