Who wants flowers when you're dead? Nobody.
Sixty-seventh Entry. Failure is no longer an option.
26 AUG 03 | 9:04 a.m.

PT Assessment push-ups, 17 sit-ups, and a one-mile run in under 8:30 or less. Sounds easy enough. Not exactly. Alpha, the female company, had a number of their members fail-sadly their PT Assessment was 3 push-ups, 17 sit-ups, and a one-mile run in under 10:30. Bravo, my company and the best company, had a number of failures. No one failed the push-ups or the sit-ups. It was the one-mile run that everyone thought that they could do. It was the victor over many soldiers. I was not one of those soldiers.

It took more than I was willing to give, but not more than I had. The pacer-who was to come across the finish line at exactly 8 minutes and 30 seconds-passed me two or three times. I stopped to walk numerous times. I decided that I was going to fail, that I was going to make everything harder on myself. For some reason, though, I could not allow it and I gave it my all to catch up to the pacer and pass him. I cam in at 8:20 with a sensation I hadn't had in years. Pride. Not some stagnant pride that is had and exercised only in moral situations, but powerful emotion of a job well done; of conquering the enemies of self-doubt and self-destruction. It was a long time ago since I felt so alive.

I have been on a lifelong quest to make my life as difficult as possible, to make living a challenge almost too hard to surmount. I have chosen to fail easy things numerous times, or chosen to fail harder things, because of the same reason. I know now, though, that it is harder to succeed. It's harder to always succeed. It is harder to be a hero than a coward, and I resolve that I will never allow myself to fail again. I will be strong. I will be steadfast. I will be resolute. The only time I will fail is when I have given my all and everything else and it's still not enough. From here, nothing will ever be easy again and I absolutely love that.

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