This is a post about Thursday night. It started out with many apprehensive glances toward the sky, as a storm was supposed to hit that evening. However, with CAP and grocery shopping looming over our heads, my mom,
After opening formation and preliminary stretches, I took my band of cadets downstairs (where it was warmer) to do sit-ups, push-ups, and sit and reach. We ran all the cadets through the sit and reach, which measures how far past their toes the cadets can reach. Or, how close to their toes the cadets can reach, as the case may be. Then we buddied up and did sit-ups. You know what's really interesting? It's when you and another sergeant are both doing sit-ups, and you're doing it last because everyone else already went, and the rest of the cadets are just standing around, staring at you in silence as you perform your sit-ups. It's very motivational and you tend to make sure your elbows hit your legs every time, if you have several airmen staring at you... Then we lined up and did our push-ups.
At this point, we perambulated back up the stairs and into the gym. The other half of cadets were done with their run, so we were ready to go. One mile is twelve times around -- you go around the gym, out a gym side door, and through a hallway into the gym door on the other side. That's one lap. I had failed the mile run the month before, so I really wanted to pass it this time. It was about 57 degrees in the gym, but the hallway was warmer. The temperature played havoc on our gasping lungs. It was cold in the armory, and my toes were slightly numb. It's a weird feeling, running, warm all over, except for your numb toes. I passed the mile, but barely.
After all the cadets had finished the run, the other group was done downstairs, and we congregated in the gym to play matball. It's just like kickball, only you use mats instead of bases and you go around the bases twice instead of once. We shivered inside our jackets. My team had about 8 people on it. The pitcher from the other team would roll a ball toward the player, who would then -- with great speed and dexterity -- lunge forward, jerk his leg out and in the direction of the ball, so as to kick the ball in the opposite direction of where the player was heading. Well, you would think. Some times the player kicked the ball back to the pitcher. Those were not good moves. But, in the event that the player had rerouted the ball over to the left hand side of the room, he would then dash to the nearest mat/base. At which point, if he were lucky enough to avoid tagging, and if the danger of said tagging was imminent, he would hurtle himself at the mat with great force. Or, if the other team was fumbling/dropping/falling/sanding and looking clueless, the player could stroll casually to the mat while whistling a snotty tune.
At any rate, there were only two cases of head ball, which is where the opposing team tries to tag a player out by throwing the ball at him, but it hits the player's head. So it's good that there were only two, but it's not good that I was one of them. Thankfully, the ball hit the wall and then bounced back into my face, and my glasses didn't even get bent, though I was surprised.
Okay, this is where the plot starts to thicken. I was on the far side of the gym with my team, waiting for my turn to kick the ball. I heard my squadron commander calling me over, so I jogged to the other side to see what she needed. On my way over, however, a second catastrophic collision occurred. Dominic was attempting to throw the ball (which was a basketball) to someone. This in itself is a perfectly rational thing to do, given the activity. However, the problem was that the person he was throwing the ball to was directly on the other side of me. Dominic wound up, and threw the ball. It came speeding toward me at roughly 345 miles per hour. I'm glad I had my hand up, because that would have really hurt my face. My hand was red for a couple hours. And here I thought Dominic was my friend!
But that wasn’t the plot thickening part. What I was referring to was the phone call which I had gotten called over for. Normally, your little sister doesn’t call you via your squadron commander’s cell phone just to tell you what she had for supper, you know. She told me that the weather conditions atop our hill were really bad. They were so bad, in fact, that the people that Jessica was getting a ride home with had ran into a woodpile because they could not see. After a several-minute-long conversation, I figured out that the weather was bad, Annetta didn’t want us to try to drive home, but everyone was okay.
I went back to the thrilling game of matball. This time, they had rearranged the teams, so I attached myself to Dominic’s team. “I feel it’s safer on your team,” I told him, rubbing my smashed hand.
Well, after closing formation, the brave band of travelers mounted their van and set out. At first, the weather was clear. But, as we advanced into the storm, it grew worse. (Logical progression, don’t you think?) After several cell-phone consultations wit h the home front, it was decided that the safest plan of action would involve stopping at Uncle Steve’s house and waiting for Daddy to arrive home from work. Then, we would know if we should try to come home. He got home around 2220, and after discussing with him the pros and cons of going home, we set out. Uncle Steve and Andrew (my second cousin) went first in their truck. We followed slowly behind. The snow was coming down, and occasionally the wind would blow and you couldn’t see a thing. Uncle Steve had to drive carefully to stay on the road, because everything was covered with snow. Thankfully, snowplows had gone through, so he could follow drifts along the edge of the road.
We live at the top of a hill. The hill is steep and curvy. Our neighbor, who has four-wheel drive, drove to the bottom of the hill, and then we followed him home. I was so thankful that we were able to follow them home!
Anyhow…really random, long post! How are you all doing?
