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25 Miles Of Hell...


ArmyofOne

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So yesterday afternoon, I arrived at my company (I am a soldier for those that do not know) and prepped for one of the most difficult events of my career: a 25 mile, kick-you-in-the-!Removed!, "Road" march. I say "road" march because...well...you will see shortly.

We packed our gear, got some food, and stepped off at 1900hrs (7pm). I am in my custom-made Desert Tan Combat Boots (Specifically tailored to my feet, I had to come out of pocket $250 for this, but it was worth it), ACU's (Army Combat Uniform), Full Body Armor, an M-4 Carbine, 210 rounds of ammunition and a 50 lb. Pack on my back (roughly 150 lbs of gear total).

The first 3 miles went great. We were on pavement moving at a good pace (roughly 5 miles per hour). Keep in mind though as you continue reading...I am not a lightweight person. All 230lbs of my body weight slammed onto the soles of my feet with every step. At about 3.5 miles, we went from Hardball (pavement) to gravel...This is where the "fun" begins.

We hit the 5 mile mark, and we stopped to rest for about 10 mins. Take a bathroom break, eat an apple or granola bar (energy). By this time, my feet had some hotspots, but other than that I was ok. I didnt take off any my gear, cause I knew if i did I wouldnt want to put it back on. Anyways, I was comfortable, so I just left my gear on.

We stepped off again, moving at a very brisk pace this time. I started feel an extreme burning sensation in my boots. I knew this feeling...Blisters were beginning to form on the soles of my feet at about mile 10. I tried not to think about it. Then at mile 11, we stopped again for a water refill, and a short rest. When we stepped off again, I felt it. It started getting bad. I slowed down a bit, and fell back about 50 yards. Then suddenly, I found myself surrounded by my platoon again. Finally...The turn around point, Mile 12.5. at mile 14, Every single agonizing step felt like I was stepping on a bed of nails. In point of fact, I would rather have been stepping on a bed of nails. Every step I took, I could feel each individual piece of gravel under my feet. I kept going, at my own pace, no longer with the formation. Still moving at about 4 mph, I could see the rest of the Platoon about 100 yards into the distance by mile 16. Step, By agonizing, painful, tearful step, I kept putting one foot in front of the other, knowing each step was one closer to the place where I could sit down and relax. I hit a pothole at mile 18 and rolled my ankle. I heard it crunch, but continued walking. I felt little pain at that point, except for the soles of my feet. Then suddenly, i felt a slight pop on the bottom of my foot. Blister #1 had popped.

Mile 19 was bad, but the road was getting better. I felt a digging in the heel of my foot, right on my achilles tendon. It was my boots. They had creased to the point of irritation, clearly not designed for this kind of heavy duty use. I slowed down even more. Now only making about 3 mph, the platoon was slowing too, so they were still within sight. Having slowed down, I had a chance to feel my feet. This was getting bad. My socks were soggy. Really soggy, to the point where I was worried. It was mile 23. I stopped for a quick second, and I could feel my feet throbbing with every beat of my exhausted heart. I looked behind me, and I saw wet footprints. I didnt think anything of it, I must have walked through a puddle. I stepped off again, my feet were SOAKED...something wasnt right, this was not sweat. I looked down at the bottoms of my feet as they contacted the ground....Blood was coming out of the vent holes of my boots, and those foot prints were !Removed!. Well...the damage is done and I am almost home. So I pressed on. I went to turn the final corner by our company. The last 1/2 mile. Soggy feet...numb again, but soggy. I walked into my company parking lot, got to my car, opened the door and fell over into the car, dropped my bags, and my gear and laid on the ground. My Platoon Sergeant called for the medic. The medic asked if I could take off my boots, I couldnt, so he cut my laces and removed them. The socks that started out green, were now a dark red (soaked with blood) and dripping. I asked how bad it was, he said I would be fine but my feet looked like they went through a meet grinder. They set me in the back seat of my car, I called my wife and asked her to get a ride to come get me, as I wasnt about to drive home.

Now, sitting here...with my feet in bloddy bandages...I (and many of you) wonder why I put myself through this. And to be honest, I dont know. I guess it was just to say...I did it. This is the hardest test the army has...and I did it, in 7 hrs and 44 mins (typical time is 12 hrs, time limit is 14).

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Damn, Josh, that's absolutely brutal man! I say, full salute to you, sir! ;)

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