Well, here I am. Still standing. Or rather still lying down... I'm walking around like I just got ass fucked. Which is not glamorous at all... Survived the 28km march, though I've heard my commander say that it was actually 34km. I can't believe that they would mind fuck us so much!
Really tempted to give up at the 8km mark, because we marched 8km straight, even though we were supposed to have a rest after every 4km... Still, I managed to pull through. Thinking of you, you gave me strength. That plus the thought of having to redo the whole damn thing if I fell out was a very strong motivator. The last stretch was definitely the toughest, and definitely the most rewarding. Especially when your surroundings starts to become familiar, you ignore the pain. Block out the fatigue, and just press on. Suddenly everyone's spirit was lifted with loud singing. Singing songs of encouragement, and of pride. Foxtrot warriors were marching in to camp. Shouting out to announce it to the whole camp! Ultimately, those who made it for sure felt a sense of pride. Of achievement. This is not something that everyone can accomplish so easily.
Well, I'm just damn proud to say that I made it through it all.
I've survived when others started falling out.
I am strong within.
I hope you're proud of me. Because I did this for you.
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