The Foxhole

I was a squad leader in Basic Training at Fort Jackson, South Carolina in the summer of 1995.  It was a hot, miserable summer- too hot to be running around in the woods fully clothed carrying an M-16, but alas, that's where I was.  My squad had been assigned a portion of the perimeter, and each soldier had to ready their position with appropriate cover, which also had to meet the impossibly-high standards of the drill sergeants.  Private Ballard stepped up to the plate and volunteered to dig the foxhole for our squad.  (The exact dimensions it needed to be escape me, now, but it had to be several feet deep and wide.)  I made my rounds checking on everyone and ended with Ballard.  He was having a little trouble, but no worries, Carter, it would be done. Big smile. 
A little bit later, I went back to check on him.  The dirt had turned to a mix of sand a few feet down, and the more he dug, the more the walls started to crumble.  We had time to relocate the foxhole, but he felt he could make it work right were it was. 
Mid-afternoon, a huge lightning storm rolled in, which resulted in us having to tri-pod our weapons, leave the forest, balance ourselves on our toes while crouching down in the middle of the road.  When I called the squad up to the road, Ballard came stomping through yelling, "I'm through!  I'm through!  I ain't doing it no more!  I'm through."  His foxhole had caved, yet, again.  Only now, it was filling with more than sand and dirt- it was filling with rain water.  And what did I do, as the ever-supportive squad leader?  Yep...I laughed my ass off. 

See, I admired Ballard for his willingness to step up and take on the hardest job for the squad.  I appreciated his determination to see it through even when every strike of the shovel sent another load barreling down the wall.  Lastly, I enjoyed his humor-filled tantrum which resulted in both of us nearly collapsing with laughter at his frustration and making a miserable day tolerable for a few minutes. 

With all of the changes going on in my daily routine, it's not surprising to me that this memory keeps resurfacing.  Weight loss can be a lot like that foxhole.  One shovel in the right direction can cause an avalanche in three different ones. 

• Taking time for myself at the gym leaves less time for my household duties or takes time away from my family, and that makes me feel guilty.  No one has complained, mind you, and the kids like to go with me, but I still have that twinge of guilt.  And, the vacuum and laundry don't seem to mind, either.
• One week of good eating choices followed by a weekend of fast-food and/or movie popcorn... boom....avalanche.(Keep in mind that many fast-food meals can have an entire daily caloric intake in one meal.)  

It is a constant struggle to keep up with the hard work that weight loss requires.  But, the pay off is well worth the effort in the end.  As for the foxhole?  Ballard returned to the site, worked his butt off, and had a fully-functioning foxhole that passed the drill sergeants inspection. It wasn't easy or perfect; it took many tries, but he got the job done.