This one goes out to the whole division. And already I can hear a chorus of voices, one of them distinctly Scottish (you know who you are!) and the other Scouse (three guesses who), piping up with a combination of happiness and dread. "Here we go boys! Throbson's latest offering has been deposited on the table of the Artful Gods for a fresh dose of mockery! Beers out and let the games begin!" Too bloody right ladies and gents. This post is going to be emotional; its going to be a roller coaster...or not. Really it depends on how my mood changes whilst I'm writing it; which could be at the drop of a hat.
I'd like to make a departure from the seemingly endless recurring theme of "lesson's learnt", which seems to have been going on for months now, and the whole "different person walking through the gates from the one who arrived mentality". Yes I am regretting that latter one because it kept a certain person entertained no end for the best part of a fortnight, seriously it was like giving a kid something to colour in! Endless amusement for a low cost, I mean if I didn't know better I'd say...but I'm getting distracted. If I may move away from my aborted rant I shall return to the meat of this article; the importance of Gallows Humour.
I really have come to understand just how hugely important such humour is. It doesn't matter how many times someone asks you if you've filled out that ASDA application form in the weeks following MARL, you'll laugh at it every time. Likewise you'll laugh at being told that you're in "the wrong brief. This is for people going on IFT." You'll say exactly the same things to your mates, tells them not to worry, that Conqueror is an awesome package and you'll send them a postcard from Bulwark. You'll do this right up until the day the results get published, and then the night before you won't sleep.
Also if you're me, you'll find yourself trying to sing yourself to sleep by endlessly singing "One day more" from Les Miz in your cabin. What do you mean you haven't tried it yourself and that its just me? Seriously?! Damn! Well in that case forget I said anything. But back on track. Unfortunately the dark humour can only take you so far. It when you're stood around with your dick in your hands at 8am still waiting for the results with an increadibly squeaky ring piece that you realise that everyone else is just as nervous as you are. Don't believe it? Watch just how quickly 25 people can get up to an office when they're told that the results are ready to go. Obviously I didn't see them, I was at the front despite being declared obese! (I'm just big boned OK?!)
Ultimately though, despite all the nerves and the jibes, you all stand outside the office together, receive your results together, congratulate and console one another as a team. FACT. And afterwards all the nerves and fear you felt is all gone, whatever the result may have been.
"Fear is Temporary. Regret is Permanent."
Monday, 4 February 2013
Saturday, 12 January 2013
"To arms!"
The day after tomorrow I step on board a BRNC Picket Boat and commence Exercise MARL. For three nights and four days I'll be out there on the river Dart, sleep deprived, cold and wet for the second time. There's no way of putting it delicately, funnily enough if you know me you'll have guessed that; I absolutely have to pass this exercise. Failure to do so will Compulsory Withdrawal From Training and an ignominious return to civvie street...not ideal.
Its no secret that my performance on this exercise last time around was nothing short of shocking. Hardly something that could be put down to a bad day at the office either, as I could see the whole thing sliding out of my control right before my very eyes yet still could do NOTHING to prevent it. Now, over the past few posts I've said time and again how this was as a result of the pressure I put myself under in an environment where I really didn't need to. This time around you'd be right to think that there is reason to be feeling the same pressure that brought me down last time; "This is it Robson, time to deliver, fail and its back to cutting the hedge in your parent's back garden!"
Strangely though, that pressure isn't there this time. Am I worried that I may be soon heading home a civilian? Obviously its on my mind, but not to the extent that's its going to break me. I know I can do what is set before me, I have seen myself do it and I now know that I can do it again. The truth is I realise this time around, and what I failed to appreciate before, is that even though there is an officer sat a foot away from me assessing my performance it is not they who decide whether I pass or fail, but me. I am my own examiner, and last time I examined myself too harshly.
The point I guess I'm trying to drive at, in that usual long-winded "Jim get to the bloody point!" way of mine is that whatever examination conditions you are in, passing it always comes down to the same things.
Firstly, its a question of self-confidence: There is no room for modesty or facade here, you have to absolutely know and believe that you have the ability to pass, if you don't then you will be chewed up and spat out.
Secondly, preparation: If you find yourself in a situation before an examination where you find yourself changing and tinkering with your notes and plans because you have nothing else to do, or asking yourself "What more can I do?" and being genuinely unable to think of an answer then the chances are you've done enough.
Thirdly, support: Vital if on the occasion that you falter, even if it is only for a second, you have someone to tell you that you're essentially being an idiot and that you'll be fine. I was very lucky to have 10 people immediately on hand in the College to tell me this, as well as many more merely a phone call away. Your own self-confidence will increase tenfold if you have people behind you backing it up.
Whatever the outcome of next week may be, one thing is not in doubt; that the man who either returns to the civilian world or goes to sea is not the same man who walked in through the gates. It was actually my friend's girlfriend who perhaps summed things up best for me, when she said to my date at the Christmas Ball, "He wanted it too much". She was right.
That is not to say there here, now, today, I don't want to march up the steps with a sword in my hand any less than on the day I got here, but I'm not going to let that desire dictate my actions or my behaviour anymore. And with that in mind, its time to go and kick the arse out of MARL!
Its no secret that my performance on this exercise last time around was nothing short of shocking. Hardly something that could be put down to a bad day at the office either, as I could see the whole thing sliding out of my control right before my very eyes yet still could do NOTHING to prevent it. Now, over the past few posts I've said time and again how this was as a result of the pressure I put myself under in an environment where I really didn't need to. This time around you'd be right to think that there is reason to be feeling the same pressure that brought me down last time; "This is it Robson, time to deliver, fail and its back to cutting the hedge in your parent's back garden!"
Strangely though, that pressure isn't there this time. Am I worried that I may be soon heading home a civilian? Obviously its on my mind, but not to the extent that's its going to break me. I know I can do what is set before me, I have seen myself do it and I now know that I can do it again. The truth is I realise this time around, and what I failed to appreciate before, is that even though there is an officer sat a foot away from me assessing my performance it is not they who decide whether I pass or fail, but me. I am my own examiner, and last time I examined myself too harshly.
The point I guess I'm trying to drive at, in that usual long-winded "Jim get to the bloody point!" way of mine is that whatever examination conditions you are in, passing it always comes down to the same things.
Firstly, its a question of self-confidence: There is no room for modesty or facade here, you have to absolutely know and believe that you have the ability to pass, if you don't then you will be chewed up and spat out.
Secondly, preparation: If you find yourself in a situation before an examination where you find yourself changing and tinkering with your notes and plans because you have nothing else to do, or asking yourself "What more can I do?" and being genuinely unable to think of an answer then the chances are you've done enough.
Thirdly, support: Vital if on the occasion that you falter, even if it is only for a second, you have someone to tell you that you're essentially being an idiot and that you'll be fine. I was very lucky to have 10 people immediately on hand in the College to tell me this, as well as many more merely a phone call away. Your own self-confidence will increase tenfold if you have people behind you backing it up.
Whatever the outcome of next week may be, one thing is not in doubt; that the man who either returns to the civilian world or goes to sea is not the same man who walked in through the gates. It was actually my friend's girlfriend who perhaps summed things up best for me, when she said to my date at the Christmas Ball, "He wanted it too much". She was right.
That is not to say there here, now, today, I don't want to march up the steps with a sword in my hand any less than on the day I got here, but I'm not going to let that desire dictate my actions or my behaviour anymore. And with that in mind, its time to go and kick the arse out of MARL!
Thursday, 20 December 2012
Some things never change...Others have to
Recently I had one or two thoughtful moments. Yes, now I know I don't have these very often and the amount I seem to have been having lately really do seem to be out of character but hey there we go, we all live and learn. A chain of events which are completely unrelated all came together to remind me that some things do not change, nor do they need to, and also that in some cases change is no bad thing. Sometimes it can really be to the good.
Firstly, last weekend I went back to my old uni stomping ground to bif farewell to an old team mate. Now, those of you who went to uni with me will already be holding your heads in your hands and groaning. "Oh God." I hear you sigh. "Jim went back to Fal and went out with the Tang Soo Do lot. That means drinking, bad dancing and general embarassing behaviour." And you'd be right to be fearful. Whenever I went out with the team at uni I always returned home steaming, woke up hungover the next morning and was completely useless to man and beast the next day. Not least my employers. Well guess what? That's exactly what happened!
I woke up in the morning with a mild case of amnesia and a MAJOR headache, but was it really a bad thing? Hardly. I hadn't seen any of these guys for eighteen months. Think about that, that's a year and half, and in that time I hadn't kept in touch with a great many of them except the occassional message to and from my Black Belt. So to be invited to an old team mate's leaving party out of the blue was quite touching that I had been thought of. What was even better though was that when we all got together again it was as if nothing had changed. Conversation pretty much took off from where we had all left it when we parted ways at Heathrow. Its the mark of strong friendship when you can spend long periods apart and come back together like nothing's changed. My point here is that you need some constants in your life, so some things staying exactly as they are probably isn't such a bad thing.
On the flip side of things, today I watched the guys I joined up with pass out without me. I wasn't the only back-phaser watching them, and I'd be lying if I said that there wasn't a little bit of jealousy deep down in my guts at seeing the guys march up the steps with their swords. "And there goes Jim off a bitter rant. Get the popcorn out guys this one is gonna be a winner!" Sorry guys, normal service will be resumed ASAP I promise, but there is no rant forthcoming.
The thing is that I stood out on the parade ground, watching my oppo's pass out (did I mention that?!), with my new division. If you ever need it hammering home to you that things in your fledgling naval career have most DEFINITELY changed then let me tell you, this is absolutely the best way for it to be done. The man who stood on the parade ground today was not the same man who stood there thirty weeks ago. Let me tell you now that this is a good thing, because thirty weeks ago I did not deserve to pass out, and it took failure to make that clear. As such, I changed. And that's the thing about change, it doesn't always feel good, or right, but it is always for the better.
Firstly, last weekend I went back to my old uni stomping ground to bif farewell to an old team mate. Now, those of you who went to uni with me will already be holding your heads in your hands and groaning. "Oh God." I hear you sigh. "Jim went back to Fal and went out with the Tang Soo Do lot. That means drinking, bad dancing and general embarassing behaviour." And you'd be right to be fearful. Whenever I went out with the team at uni I always returned home steaming, woke up hungover the next morning and was completely useless to man and beast the next day. Not least my employers. Well guess what? That's exactly what happened!
I woke up in the morning with a mild case of amnesia and a MAJOR headache, but was it really a bad thing? Hardly. I hadn't seen any of these guys for eighteen months. Think about that, that's a year and half, and in that time I hadn't kept in touch with a great many of them except the occassional message to and from my Black Belt. So to be invited to an old team mate's leaving party out of the blue was quite touching that I had been thought of. What was even better though was that when we all got together again it was as if nothing had changed. Conversation pretty much took off from where we had all left it when we parted ways at Heathrow. Its the mark of strong friendship when you can spend long periods apart and come back together like nothing's changed. My point here is that you need some constants in your life, so some things staying exactly as they are probably isn't such a bad thing.
On the flip side of things, today I watched the guys I joined up with pass out without me. I wasn't the only back-phaser watching them, and I'd be lying if I said that there wasn't a little bit of jealousy deep down in my guts at seeing the guys march up the steps with their swords. "And there goes Jim off a bitter rant. Get the popcorn out guys this one is gonna be a winner!" Sorry guys, normal service will be resumed ASAP I promise, but there is no rant forthcoming.
The thing is that I stood out on the parade ground, watching my oppo's pass out (did I mention that?!), with my new division. If you ever need it hammering home to you that things in your fledgling naval career have most DEFINITELY changed then let me tell you, this is absolutely the best way for it to be done. The man who stood on the parade ground today was not the same man who stood there thirty weeks ago. Let me tell you now that this is a good thing, because thirty weeks ago I did not deserve to pass out, and it took failure to make that clear. As such, I changed. And that's the thing about change, it doesn't always feel good, or right, but it is always for the better.
Sunday, 2 December 2012
"Where the bloody hell have you been?!"
This is a post dedicated to the advantages of taking the time out to think a situation through, or to gain some perspective, or just to recharge your batteries. Those of you who know me will already be worried because, as you well know, those are things which in my entire live I have NEVER done. It is an established and well known fact; Jim Robson, 100mph all the time, lots of noise and gesticulation, doesn't really think before acting/speaking/doing anything....doesn't get much actually done. Well recently I was forced to take an extended break, and it has given me the chance to both gain some perspective and recharge my batteries after running myself ragged with worry and pressure for no real reason since I joined BRNC.
I've been out of the regular training pipeline for nearly nine weeks. Over two months! Its not like its been an inactive or wasted two months, but its certainly been a long time. However, as Bond said in Skyfall "You should try it sometime, get away from it all it really lends perspective." I can already see my you shaking your heads in despair. "Oh God! Jim's comparing himself to Bond...again!" Well no not on this occassion, despite the obvious similarities and the fact that I will change my surname to Bond if I ever make to Commander, I'm merely pointing out that these are very profound words.
Two months out and no shortage of coaching has indeed lent some perspective to the way I approached the training since I arrived here. Putting myself under such pressure to do well, to impress, to get everything right first time, led to the inevitable choking which led to failure. A little break really has helped with that; i'm in a training environment, I'M NOT MEANT TO GET IT ALL RIGHT FIRST TIME! So lesson learned on that count, but it can be applied to any situation in life, if something really is giving you sleepless nights then just take a step outside the box. Are you going to lose your job over it? Probably not, so don't make the pressure on yourself any worse. Unless you are actually going to get fired, in which case you'd better get it bloody right!
Moving onto point two, recharging your batteries. For the first 3 of the last 9 weeks all I did was mooch around Germany, Wales and Devon going kayaking, caving and mountain biking. This ties in with the whole self induced pressure thing because what better way to take your mind of it all? And the fact that you haven't made the grade this time? Well trust me it goes right out the wind when your trying to avoid capsizing in rapids. My point is that gaining perspective is unavoidably linked with doing something to take your mind off of what's bugging you. It means that when you come back from your break, however long it may have been, you're fully refreshed with a fresh outlook on things, your confidence is high, you know you can achieve what you have to, and you're itching to get back into the fight.
So, when my mate asked me in the bar, "Where have you been lately?" I was able to reply:
"Enjoying failure. 007 reporting for duty." See, I told you there were obvious similarities!
I've been out of the regular training pipeline for nearly nine weeks. Over two months! Its not like its been an inactive or wasted two months, but its certainly been a long time. However, as Bond said in Skyfall "You should try it sometime, get away from it all it really lends perspective." I can already see my you shaking your heads in despair. "Oh God! Jim's comparing himself to Bond...again!" Well no not on this occassion, despite the obvious similarities and the fact that I will change my surname to Bond if I ever make to Commander, I'm merely pointing out that these are very profound words.
Two months out and no shortage of coaching has indeed lent some perspective to the way I approached the training since I arrived here. Putting myself under such pressure to do well, to impress, to get everything right first time, led to the inevitable choking which led to failure. A little break really has helped with that; i'm in a training environment, I'M NOT MEANT TO GET IT ALL RIGHT FIRST TIME! So lesson learned on that count, but it can be applied to any situation in life, if something really is giving you sleepless nights then just take a step outside the box. Are you going to lose your job over it? Probably not, so don't make the pressure on yourself any worse. Unless you are actually going to get fired, in which case you'd better get it bloody right!
Moving onto point two, recharging your batteries. For the first 3 of the last 9 weeks all I did was mooch around Germany, Wales and Devon going kayaking, caving and mountain biking. This ties in with the whole self induced pressure thing because what better way to take your mind of it all? And the fact that you haven't made the grade this time? Well trust me it goes right out the wind when your trying to avoid capsizing in rapids. My point is that gaining perspective is unavoidably linked with doing something to take your mind off of what's bugging you. It means that when you come back from your break, however long it may have been, you're fully refreshed with a fresh outlook on things, your confidence is high, you know you can achieve what you have to, and you're itching to get back into the fight.
So, when my mate asked me in the bar, "Where have you been lately?" I was able to reply:
"Enjoying failure. 007 reporting for duty." See, I told you there were obvious similarities!
Monday, 8 October 2012
Going around The Buoy again
I was intending to put this post off until I had received a full debrief of my performance on the Maritime Leadership Exercise...but...its been a slow news week so the fact of the matter is that I've failed and subsequently been back-termed. This means I'll undertake the "Conqueror" package; a three week intensive leadership course designed to bring my leadership abilities up to scratch before rejoining a new division.
Now don't worry, this isn't going to a be few hundred word rant about how it sucks to be told that you're not good enough, that you'll have to leave your mates behind and won't be passing out with the same people you arrived with. No I'm not bitter about this, seriously, I'm just listing the amount of depressing things that I COULD be talking about in order to give you some perspective on what I am going to be talking about this week; the opportunities that failure unwittingly brings us.
Here's an irremovable fact of life; we all get told that we've failed at something at least once. However, it is not failing at something that defines who we are, but rather the way in which we deal with that failure which determines the kind of person we become. It is at times of failure that people's true characters come to the forefront. A defeatist will tell you that it is the end of everything, and that there is no point in continuing because they will never be good enough. An arrogant person will seek explanations as to how THEY of all people could POSSIBLY have failed, and then more than likely reject those reasons when they are told that it was something to do with them.
Personally, I like to look upon failure as an opportunity.
When I say this, I don't mean as an opportunity to just give up and start on something else in life with a clean slate, but rather an opportunity to find out what you did that led to failure and work to put that fault to rights to ensure that it does not happen again. Naturally, this approach to failure is helped by the fact that the Navy provides me with the opportunity to improve; quite simply if they didn't want me they would have simply asked me to leave rather than giving me a second chance with "Conqueror".
This is however, a game of two halves. "Conqueror" will only work if you approach it with an open mind knowing that there is something about you that you need to improve. If you approach it believing that you do not need it then the chances are that you've wasted your opportunity and can standby for a very unceremonious dumping on your arse. So I will take this opportunity happily, mostly because it opens with week's Adventurous Training in Germany...failure never tasted so sweet!
Now don't worry, this isn't going to a be few hundred word rant about how it sucks to be told that you're not good enough, that you'll have to leave your mates behind and won't be passing out with the same people you arrived with. No I'm not bitter about this, seriously, I'm just listing the amount of depressing things that I COULD be talking about in order to give you some perspective on what I am going to be talking about this week; the opportunities that failure unwittingly brings us.
Here's an irremovable fact of life; we all get told that we've failed at something at least once. However, it is not failing at something that defines who we are, but rather the way in which we deal with that failure which determines the kind of person we become. It is at times of failure that people's true characters come to the forefront. A defeatist will tell you that it is the end of everything, and that there is no point in continuing because they will never be good enough. An arrogant person will seek explanations as to how THEY of all people could POSSIBLY have failed, and then more than likely reject those reasons when they are told that it was something to do with them.
Personally, I like to look upon failure as an opportunity.
When I say this, I don't mean as an opportunity to just give up and start on something else in life with a clean slate, but rather an opportunity to find out what you did that led to failure and work to put that fault to rights to ensure that it does not happen again. Naturally, this approach to failure is helped by the fact that the Navy provides me with the opportunity to improve; quite simply if they didn't want me they would have simply asked me to leave rather than giving me a second chance with "Conqueror".
This is however, a game of two halves. "Conqueror" will only work if you approach it with an open mind knowing that there is something about you that you need to improve. If you approach it believing that you do not need it then the chances are that you've wasted your opportunity and can standby for a very unceremonious dumping on your arse. So I will take this opportunity happily, mostly because it opens with week's Adventurous Training in Germany...failure never tasted so sweet!
Saturday, 25 August 2012
Bright Lights, Big City, Bigger Picture
Last week, I went to Paris. Now, those of you who know me have probably either just fallen out of chair in shock, laughed into your drink, or something similar. "Jim Robson willingly in Paris?!" I hear you cry, "Perhaps this is the beginning of a whole new era in international relations in which even those countries with the most deep rooted of disputes can learn tolerance, perhaps even acceptance, and the world can begin taking its first small steps towards an everlasting peace. Or it could be one of the fore warnings of the end of the World..." To be honest I'm not sure which it is because I'm trying not to think of it, but I have at least come back with some observations not just on Paris, but cities in general. And now I hear you surprise turning to fear; "Jim Robson? Observations on the capitol of France? Sorry everyone, that new era of international relations is on hold!"
Well lets just see shall we.
Firstly, I wish to make it clear that Paris really is a beautiful city. Admittedly it helped that the weather whilst I was there really was perfect, but even without it anyone could have seen that the City of Lights really is a stunning place. Architecturally, and I mean this, it is unlike any other city I have seen with the modern touches kept to a discreet minimum and almost transporting you back in time. Almost. The truth is that you will never be able to relax enough to allow yourself to step back in time because if you do, you WILL be run over.
This brings me on rather neatly to my second observation; the traffic is mental. Not mental in the London sense of the word, which is stationary, I mean head bangingly, full straight jacket and foam padded cell level mental. No gap is too small to squeeze a car through, even if you're in moving traffic and there's a buss closing in and you're in a seven seater taxi, the cabbie WILL get through that gap even if it costs him his rear headlights. Similarly, no light is too close to changing from green to red, and the accepted speed limit is 50mph...in 2nd gear! London cabbies are often criticised for being surly, but on balance I'd rather have a surly driver than a homicidal one, especially when I've gone somewhere to relax and don't quite fancy playing Russian Roulette with my travel arrangements
My third and final observation is on the famous Parisian dining that everyone whoever goes to Paris always talks about, and its a brief observation. The food is indeed delicious, the beer is the same as I drink here in the UK, and the bill is astronomical.
And with all that in mind I now want you to think. If had not specified that I was in Paris throughout this post would you have been able to tell that I was describing it? Beautiful architecture? I could have been describing Rome. Mental traffic and insane cabbies? Well that could be anywhere on the Sub-Continent. Expensive eating? That could have been any city in Western Europe or America. Anybody who watched the Olympics could tell you that London is a beautiful city (in the right light), similarly the New York skyline at night really does make you wonder why they call Paris the City of Lights.
The point I'm trying to make is that, beneath the love and pride we feel for our native cities, underneath their different skins every city is essentially the same. Ultimately they all follow similar lines, and when you peel away their unique looks you will find the same things within them; endless activity, faces from all over the world, and a never ending supply of shops selling expensive and tacky tourist titbits.
So, all cities are the same. Apart from London obviously, London is unique....London's ours.
Well lets just see shall we.
Firstly, I wish to make it clear that Paris really is a beautiful city. Admittedly it helped that the weather whilst I was there really was perfect, but even without it anyone could have seen that the City of Lights really is a stunning place. Architecturally, and I mean this, it is unlike any other city I have seen with the modern touches kept to a discreet minimum and almost transporting you back in time. Almost. The truth is that you will never be able to relax enough to allow yourself to step back in time because if you do, you WILL be run over.
This brings me on rather neatly to my second observation; the traffic is mental. Not mental in the London sense of the word, which is stationary, I mean head bangingly, full straight jacket and foam padded cell level mental. No gap is too small to squeeze a car through, even if you're in moving traffic and there's a buss closing in and you're in a seven seater taxi, the cabbie WILL get through that gap even if it costs him his rear headlights. Similarly, no light is too close to changing from green to red, and the accepted speed limit is 50mph...in 2nd gear! London cabbies are often criticised for being surly, but on balance I'd rather have a surly driver than a homicidal one, especially when I've gone somewhere to relax and don't quite fancy playing Russian Roulette with my travel arrangements
My third and final observation is on the famous Parisian dining that everyone whoever goes to Paris always talks about, and its a brief observation. The food is indeed delicious, the beer is the same as I drink here in the UK, and the bill is astronomical.
And with all that in mind I now want you to think. If had not specified that I was in Paris throughout this post would you have been able to tell that I was describing it? Beautiful architecture? I could have been describing Rome. Mental traffic and insane cabbies? Well that could be anywhere on the Sub-Continent. Expensive eating? That could have been any city in Western Europe or America. Anybody who watched the Olympics could tell you that London is a beautiful city (in the right light), similarly the New York skyline at night really does make you wonder why they call Paris the City of Lights.
The point I'm trying to make is that, beneath the love and pride we feel for our native cities, underneath their different skins every city is essentially the same. Ultimately they all follow similar lines, and when you peel away their unique looks you will find the same things within them; endless activity, faces from all over the world, and a never ending supply of shops selling expensive and tacky tourist titbits.
So, all cities are the same. Apart from London obviously, London is unique....London's ours.
Saturday, 2 June 2012
Grit your teeth and get on with it
Without wanting to go into too much detail, I've spent the last week living in a field sleeping with a rifle and receiving early morning beastings from bootneck Sergeant's who like nothing more than to see arrogant Officer Cadets suffering pain. Now don't worry, this isn't going to be a post about how hard life in the military is and how tough I've subsequently become. Partly because I haven't (you know full well I 'm already rock hard), but mainly because I'm just using this experience as an example to make a point.
Now, imagine the scenario. You've had what supposedly counts as a night's sleep in your bivvy (shelter people, keep up!), using your webbing as your pillow (which is actuyally comfier than it sounds), and now its 04:30 and you have an angry man shouting at you to get up or he's going to shove your head so far up your arse you could wear yourself as a hat. You then stand perfectly still in ranks with your rifle above your head for 10 minutes, before squating with it for a further 10, before power lifting full bergens and finally sprinting/leopard crawling the length of a football pitch for 40 minutes. And you're doing all this on 3 hours sleep with no breakfast.
You then have 30 mins to cook your breakfast and use the hot water left over to give yourself a full body wash and shave, before spending the next 8 hours marching around the college in full combat gear (webbing, rifles, and bergens) carrying a selection of staves and heavy ropes. Sounds like fun? That's the thing, it actually is, and you and your team are never late for a single task you have to perform, not matter how tired, or wet (because you've been a moron and fallen in the waterr tank) or hungry you are. The point I'm driving at hear is that, if you think you are operating at the very limit of your endurance/running on fumes, the chances are that you are actually still perfectly capable of performing to a high standard.
This is not just the case in the military, it is the case in life in general. Winston Churchil once said "If you are going through hell, keep going". It is absolutely true. You will be amazed at what you can actually achieve once you feel like you have nothing more to give. In an office job, chances are you will get those reports in on time no matter how many of them there are, the principle is the same. Power through, and you'll be just fine.
Now, imagine the scenario. You've had what supposedly counts as a night's sleep in your bivvy (shelter people, keep up!), using your webbing as your pillow (which is actuyally comfier than it sounds), and now its 04:30 and you have an angry man shouting at you to get up or he's going to shove your head so far up your arse you could wear yourself as a hat. You then stand perfectly still in ranks with your rifle above your head for 10 minutes, before squating with it for a further 10, before power lifting full bergens and finally sprinting/leopard crawling the length of a football pitch for 40 minutes. And you're doing all this on 3 hours sleep with no breakfast.
You then have 30 mins to cook your breakfast and use the hot water left over to give yourself a full body wash and shave, before spending the next 8 hours marching around the college in full combat gear (webbing, rifles, and bergens) carrying a selection of staves and heavy ropes. Sounds like fun? That's the thing, it actually is, and you and your team are never late for a single task you have to perform, not matter how tired, or wet (because you've been a moron and fallen in the waterr tank) or hungry you are. The point I'm driving at hear is that, if you think you are operating at the very limit of your endurance/running on fumes, the chances are that you are actually still perfectly capable of performing to a high standard.
This is not just the case in the military, it is the case in life in general. Winston Churchil once said "If you are going through hell, keep going". It is absolutely true. You will be amazed at what you can actually achieve once you feel like you have nothing more to give. In an office job, chances are you will get those reports in on time no matter how many of them there are, the principle is the same. Power through, and you'll be just fine.
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