This is the fifth and
final
story of this series. I hope you all enjoyed them.
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As I stood in line at the Coliseum gym waiting for my turn to do pushups, I looked at my watch. It was 6:15 in the morning; way too early to be awake. A few days earlier, the ISAF HQ Sergeant Major had sent out an email to all U.S. personnel on ISAF offering to conduct a Physical Training test, or PT test, for any personnel who needed to take a record PT test for promotion or just "for fun" to gage their level of fitness. The same day, the email come out, Kristen and I had met up for dinner at the DFAC later that night. We talked about the email and she said she was probably going to take the PT test for fun since she was in good shape from practicing for the U.S. women's soccer team on ISAF. I told her I would probably pass because I hated waking up early, although I had no doubt, I could ace the PT test. She then suggested we make a friendly wager.
"Tell you what, what if we both take the PT test and whoever gets the lower score, has to do something for the other person."
I perked up a bit as I comprehended what she was saying.
"hmmmm,"I replied.
"What if the loser has to give the other person a massage? Or watch a movie the other person chooses?" she suggested.
"I've got a better idea," I said with a grin.
I leaned in and whispered.
"How about the loser has to go down on the other person?"
Kristen sat back in her chair and crossed her arms as she thought about that.
"You really can't let this go, can you?" she said with a laugh; referring to her admission to me weeks ago that she refused to go down on anyone she outranked.
I sensed some annoyance in her tone and was a bit taken back.
"I just figured it would raise the stakes if we each have some skin in the game. Pun fully intended," I said with a laugh trying to lighten the mood.
She wasn't amused and continued to sit there thinking it over for a bit.
"Ok, you're on," she said with a grin.
"Can we shake on that?" I joked.
She reached her hand out and we shook on it. Her grip was firm.
After that we resumed eating our dinner and talked about more casual topics, but I couldn't help but feel there was starting to be a certain power dynamic in our relationship.
For the next couple of days, I had butterflies in my stomach, but I couldn't figure out why. I had conducted raids in Iraq, been shot at, lead dozens of convoys outside the wire in Kabul and here I was getting anxious about getting a higher score than someone else on a PT test.
The night before the PT test, I ate a healthy dinner of pasta and meat sauce with some vegetables on the side. I also hydrated and made sure I got to bed around 10 o'clock.
When my alarm finally woke me at 5:30 the next morning, I felt confident it would be a good day. I got up, put my PT uniform on and headed over to the Coliseum gym, the main gym on ISAF HQ. Approximately 30 other soldiers had showed up to take the PT test as well. I saw Kristen, standing with some of the other officers from the public affairs office who were also taking the PT test. We briefly made eye contact, but didn't talk to each other. After about ten minutes, the ISAF HQ Sergeant Major showed up and began to read the rules of the Army physical fitness test. Everyone there had heard the rules before, but they were required to be read, so people used the time to stretch out and warm up.
After filling out a PT score card, I got on line and prepared to take the push-up portion of the test. Males were in one line and females in another line. I looked over at Kristen. She was gently stretching her arm across her chest and she looked like she was in a trance; eyes focused and determined.
When it was finally my turn, I walked up the grader and got on all fours. The grader, an Army First Sergeant, had a stop watch in his hand. I looked up at him.
"Get ready," he said as I assumed the push-up position.
"Go!" he said, as I began to do push-ups, making sure to keep my arms straight and bring my chest down far enough. By the time two minutes were up, I had done 66 push-ups. Because the females were on the other side of the gym, I couldn't really see Kristen.
After everyone had completed the push-ups, we re-formed another line for the sit-up portion of the test. After a soldier completed his sit-ups, he or she would then hold the legs of the soldier behind them in line. By the time it was my turn, I was ready to go. As soon as the First Sergeant said "go," I began to do sit-ups as fast I could. My abs burned but when time was up, I had knocked out 60 sit-ups.
Finally, after everyone had completed both portions of the test, the Sergeant Major moved us all outside. He then gave instructions on the path we would run around ISAF HQ to complete the two-mile run portion of the PT test. We were given a few minutes to stretch and drink water, before everyone lined up on the starting line. When the First Sergeant yelled "go," most people, including Kristen, took off in a sprint. I started at a moderate pace as I warmed myself up. After the first lap, the time keeper called out my run time as I passed. I picked up the pace slightly. It was times like these I wished the Army would allow soldiers to wear an iPod while taking the PT test. Nothing is more monotonous or boring than running in large circles for lengthy periods of time. After what seemed like an eternity, I was on my last lap. When I was about half way done, I broke out into a full sprint. I wanted to finish strong. As I crossed the finish line, the First Sergeant called out my time "15:30." I immediately slowed down and began walking in small circles to cool down.
I then walked over to the Sergeant Major who sat a table grading the PT score cards. I was still catching my breath as I approached him. Kristen, who had finished the run before me, was standing with some other officers from her unit and drinking a bottle of Gatorade.
I gave my name to the Sergeant Major and he quickly pulled out my score card.
"What was your run time, Sergeant?" he asked.
"15:30, Sergeant Major," I responded.
After writing my run time on my score card, he quickly he looked at the calculations chart and tallied my two-mile run percentage score. While I had been completing the run, he had already scored the percentages for my push-ups and sit-ups.
"235 points, Sergeant," he said as he handed me my PT Score card. The maximum score one could get was 300 points. I smiled and took the PT card. I was pretty confident I had beaten Kristen and would be able to collect my reward soon. I walked over to her as she stood with other members of the Public Affairs office. Because we were around other soldiers, I made sure to be extra formal.
"How'd you do, ma'am?" I asked her.
"262," she said with a big grin as she held out her score card.
Fuck