05-20-2009, 01:33 PM #1
LB2CAT 2009 Training Sessions (ongoing)
Oh I was there. Rising on the drive of my throttle, loading hard, swift, fast with precision. No mistakes countered. Yeah I was there, and this wasn’t the first time. I’m often leading a charge and enjoying the adrenaline flush. Gender has no specifics when talent drives with no other option save the moment of glory. That being taking the hits , repeatedly and lessoning the impact. Smooth and fast.
I was running the dream on a spun reality, 1500 horses underneath me. Dancing on the battlefield of fluid dreams, I dislike nothing about this display. My spin was a 15-F, flying low in the air and in step with this sailing sea.
A fast liquid atmosphere returns on a fading sun. It wasn’t a shooting star I was riding, but it felt like a meteor spinning, I was on the ride of a lifetime. Vacations of soulful talk aren’t limited to fantasy novels. Permission granted will create and eventually demonstrate the truest conviction to ‘living life well’.
The bliss of leadership lies in following. I am following a sea at right angles. My hull feasts on the side loads, because my body is complimentary. Joy has an eternal sound that echoes to the pivotal moment. I am heroic in my episode of association with the Pacific Ocean this early evening. I am not alone. Say it why don’t you? I exclaim loudly in a cheering outburst to my riding partner who flanks my port side running smooth.
Heading north tracking the Camp Pendleton landscape from our watery main, Mike Alpha strikes away on a lone point he’s guiding. I program my LCD console to allow me to release the safe mode function. Mike is running a principal spear on a far lead. He is picking up his pace and passing the barriers of body memory. His retention of experience compliments a dedicated passion that runs rampant in career Marines. It’s almost a feral curse of movement.
Our strata has turned to motion, the chariots we drive are modern in scope, and cheer chases our wake. A lone male dolphin celebrates the draw of our wash. I adjust my speed on a slower transit as he follows in suit. It is a complimentary match, one that elicits a broad smile. Hadn’t the Minnesota connection asked for that prior to launch? ‘Inlander, remember what you ask for, the ocean will obey’. I am receiving the benefits of a natural interlude. Prophetic confidence with Mike on a safety check and we resume our forward pursuit into the rocking texture surrounding us. Redundancy is not acceptable for failure points, check and double check, no warning goes unheeded.
I watch Mike take the steep and close knit swell peaks. Training yields the answers needed for trial. I give my best descriptions and stand down. It is his turn to lead, and I follow, starboard side I study his permeable language. A few minor corrections and he’s located a new strength or two. This is the reward of sacrifice. Taking the hits on the endurance level will push the comfort zone into another possibility. That is why we are here today.
We weave our dance card on the peaks and triangulations. We cross check the hull for port and starboard hot loads. The landings are the most important, and stand corrected, the endings. Everything has an ending. I am running with a tactical specialists of dubious concerns, Mike has forethought to all action. Our bodies have loaded on hard hits for decades, one primary concern is impact. We are training to reduce impact and increase smooth transit speeds. They actually oppose one another, so where is the edge of disaster? It’s one movement away in any unnecessary decision that comes too late.
Our course was altered due to Marines training from shore to sea. This is their platform and we alter course. At one conjecture far offshore, my first notice was a mylar ‘Happy Birthday’ balloon I promptly recovered and stowed with its trailing ribbon. I had been singing ‘Mad World’ when we launched from the harbor ‘The only dreams in which I’m dying are the best of which I’ve had’. Pain is all gain at a focused price; we will not give more than we can surrender in victory today. Another correction adjustment to Mike on a cursory stop and I notice water movement that is unusual, heavy in fact. I drive over and it’s a large ammo metal box floundering in a gasp for flotation. I recover the familiar green can. Mike drives and says it’s an ammo box for.40.
He points to shore at the tracs are running from land to sea, I grab the handle on my left side and throttle one handed to shore and run the box up on the beach and place it near their fuel cans and give a hand signal to the 2 Marines. Mike and I muscle our Jet Skis off the surf beach and our training ground.
Running on a focal drive to master hull, trim, environment and compliment those picks with helm and throttle control massaged with forward movement is a combination of opposing actions that we are unifying. This interdiction of potential opposites is pulled in tighter and tighter with a riding formation that is minutely technical.
This accomplishment is earned, it cannot be taught, guided perhaps but it’s not gifted. I make a few clear observations about body language and boat behavior. Mike completes his adjustments in a fast explosion. Training with him is steady, just the way I like to run. When we increase speed, we increase potent for disaster, so each decisive move at speed matters. Statistics are measured for the consistent drop zone of problematic encounters. We cannot afford a mistake.
His training goal is 1 hour 25 minutes with no fatigue disruptions. He’s at the 45 minute peak run time, so he’s on target and within his personal best. This will be broken daily. Tomorrow we run again, with others. The gauge comes from contributions to quality, it is not a measure of random peaks, it must level on consistency. My goal as his instructor is to push the level of acceptable safety combined with an unequal edge of uncertainty.
When the uncertain becomes familiar, we hit another peak. This will be measured in minutes underway, staying in step, centered and the dubious mastering of helm and throttle control. This will only arrive at trim options. So we are cross training on different boats to build confidence. A superior effort of domination not well placed when a person becomes comfortable. Staying edgy and diversified in confidential boosts of multi tasking random equipment offers a superior level of expertise. We shall see this from him, it not he’s gonna take a beating, I’m sure of it.
I am happy. I ride on edge, at speed taking high sling turns with jabbed landings and no heavy impact through my skeletal structure. These swell peaks have high points. They eclipse a dangerous tip if not tracked properly. Sometimes speed is the only way to hit them, but the landing is the critical mass. It’s not one landing as you imagine, its about 5,000 of them during our fuel burn ratio and patterned runs, a continual ‘step’ of forces of action.
We bleed fervor. It is the drive to excel that matches the spirit of challenge. I know I will not back down. I also know that by running with a person who has tenacious abilities others benefit in subtle gestures. I share the wave eagerly. Kelp patches are stringing across the ocean surface, I avoid those. There is little boating activity save the military operations and we have a full reign on the watery terrain. I employ the crossed up water to solicit my pump engagement at every fluid point I can follow. Easing into throttle control I load my boat sweet into the right spots for traction. We have an understanding of one another, perfectly matched we skit hard on the surface.
When you are the competition, you gift the chase with presence and illicit the health of a challenge. It is almost required to participate in return. We run our course and begin the transit return to the launch and I put Mike through a few paces to see how connected he is to his balance points. He’s a big man on a little boat, size does matter when it comes to power points and the complimentary balance points.
At our first arrival Brad’s readying his platoon for night training, I drop off his snack and the OTB Boots custom delivery, while Mike and I load to go, so does Brad but in opposing directions. Everyone is special, but when it’s one of your own, the intention is heightened. Reverse osmosis and we are moving in the same direction we delivered. Hugs and kisses; laughter and bravado, not necessarily in that order. Soon the sun sets, home looms and tomorrows duties manifest in a ‘make it happen’ list.
I retreat with Mike and we discuss the day’s transitions. Tomorrow we meet Ryan Levinson. He’ll join our training transit as he also finds his steadfast limits. Exposed we drive another like a machine. We’re stepping up, 56 days and counting to the ultimate run. That’s when we’ll know what the payout is. This is nothing, a whisper, a dream, but not the battle, this merely prepares us for the unknown. Hopefully the ocean will deliver.
WAR! We All Race
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