I thought about titling this blog “The Training Camp Blog,” but my love of poetics won out over my love of straightforwardness. This time.
Anyway. Hey guys! I’m back from training camp, and I SURVIVED!!! I’ve actually been back for almost two weeks now, but it’s taken me about that long to process, decompress, and wash the sparkly Georgia dirt out of all of my belongings. I’ve been asked a TON of questions about my training camp experience, so hopefully this new and exciting blog will address some of those for you, my people. I didn’t read up on training camp blogs much before I went, because frankly, I was too afraid. A small part of me wanted to be surprised. A bigger part of me thought if I knew, I might chicken out. So, I did what any responsible adult would have done: I went in semi-blind. Not a strategy I would recommend in everyday life, but I’m glad I did in this instance.
The question I’ve heard most frequently is the all-encompassing, “How was training camp?!?!?” (The excess punctuation is necessary. This is actually how people have been asking. They are yelling.) I usually respond in an equally excited fashion. It was awesome! (It was.) I love my squad/team/leaders/coaches/trainers SO MUCH! (I do.) I learned a ton (I did) and am so much more excited to launch in January now! (I am.) All of these answers are true, and they satisfy. However, my most vulnerable answer to this question would be this:
It was hard. And I wasn’t sure if I could do it. By the grace of God, I did.
Physically, it was hard. I’m not in great shape. I’m not in terrible shape either, but I don’t really work out, and I don’t run unless I’m being chased. We had a fitness test the second full day of camp which was pretty straightforward: hike two miles in under 35 minutes. With full gear. “Full gear” meaning all of my stuff in my backpack on my back. “Full gear” meaning 40 pounds. I wasn’t sure how hard or easy this would be for me, but I didn’t train for it. If you are a future racer, read my lips: TRAIN FOR THE FITNESS HIKE. Just do it. It was difficult. I felt discouraged. I knew that if I went just one second over 35 minutes, I’d have to do it again. I was getting ready to punk out with around ¾ of a mile remaining, when one of my trainers, Joshua, came alongside me and hit me with my favorite topic of conversation: “So, Erin, I hear you live in Iowa? I’m from Iowa!” I don’t know if it was his intention to distract me from the physical challenge at hand, but it worked. I was suddenly in a great mood (I love Iowa, okay guys? Ask anyone on my squad) and felt a second wind. With about a quarter of a mile left, Joshua looked at me and said, “Okay, we’re gonna run this last part.” Let’s just say it was a good thing he buttered me up with the whole Iowa thing before he asked me to run. Long story short, we finished the two miles together. Running. In 32:37, which I still can’t believe. It was tough. Some people didn’t make it. I didn’t like it, although it did help to set a good tone for the rest of the week, knowing that I had passed the fitness requirement.
Emotionally, it was hard. Having community thrust upon you, albeit terribly exciting, is D I F F I C U L T. I learned that I am quick to feel unspecial and quicker to have my feelings hurt. I also learned that encouraging others and praying over them makes my heart soar. Toward the beginning of camp, I would find myself daydreaming about alone time. By the end, I had no idea what I would do my first morning back home, when I woke up and didn’t have 35 people smiling and telling me good morning.
Spiritually, it was hard. I had to stare down some of my biggest insecurities during camp. Everyone was coming from a different place, different denomination, different relationship with the Lord. In my mind, I seemed a lot less “Christian” than some. I curse. I’ve never spoken in tongues. I didn’t dance when I worshiped(don’t worry- that one I learned quickly!) If this sounds ludicrous, it’s because it is. None of those things matter, and in hindsight I can see that comparison is not only the “thief of joy” (thanks Teddy Roosevelt), but it’s a tool used by the enemy to weaken the Kingdom of God. If we are all looking inwardly at our own iniquities, or sideways at each other to see how we “stack up,” our eyes are certainly not on the Lord. And that’s obviously where they should be.
“Keep your eyes on Jesus, who both began and finished this race we’re in. Study how he did it. Because he never lost sight of where he was headed – that exhilarating finish in and with God – he could put up with anything along the way: cross, shame, whatever. And now he’s there, in the place of honor, right alongside God.” -Hebrews 12:2(MSG)
Boom. Thanks, Hebrews. You always come through when I need an attitude adjustment.
As a self-proclaimed control freak, training camp was hard. This could be another reason why I didn’t do extensive research beforehand. I knew I would freak out. I really like knowing what’s going on at all times. I may not always respond, but I am a hyper-aware individual. I had to die to that preference. It was a slow, agonizing death. But not unexpected.
Here’s what I mean: basically every part of training camp is a scenario. THIS could happen, or THAT could go wrong, or you need to be prepared for A THING. I actually really appreciated this. Every morning, we woke up and packed up all of our stuff in the 40 degree dark, because we didn’t know what the day held. We never knew where we would be sleeping that night. We had a base camp, but one night, half my squad (myself included) “lost” their luggage, and had to rely on the kindness and provision of others. One night we were sleeping in a fake airport, complete with bright fluorescent lighting and a soundtrack of loud airport noises, not to mention the coldest concrete floor in the history of man. I’m pretty sure it was everyone’s least favorite sleeping scenario, and was ironically the only night we slept inside the whole time. We also went off-site and set up camp in a national park, and shared large 10 person tents another night. Basically, we never knew what we were doing. Ever. In my everyday life, this would give me fits, but we did a lot of praying for good attitudes and soft hearts, and PEOPLE, THE LORD PROVIDES!
One scenario that was exceptionally memorable to me involved me being blindfolded and led down a steep gravel road, where I then did calisthenics to pay for the medicine to cure my blindness (this actually resulted in a Facebook-famous photo of me doing a push up… woof!), led my team in a sprint to catch a train to the border of Haiti, and culminated in me carrying an unconscious teammate on my back up a steep gravel hill. Actually, it culminated in me falling with her on my back, but HEAR YOU ME I did not drop her. I absorbed the shock, and then gently rolled her off of me. She would tell you the same:)
While this all seems a little silly in retelling, it kind of wraps up how all of training camp felt for me. I never knew what was next. I learned to stop and look around at my new friends and meet the needs of the team, instead of just “powering through.” I grew to genuinely care for these people, and see them through new eyes. I got a taste of the kingdom of Heaven as I worshiped alongside them. I honestly can’t tell you if I’ve ever experienced love for a group of people like I’m experiencing it now. God, I praise you for that!
So, today. Today I am 61 days from leaving the U.S. for eleven months. Am I prepared? Kind of. I think something training camp taught me was that no one is ever really prepared. No one fully understands the weight of asking God to storm your comfort zone and flip all the tables until you actually have, and He actually does. And He will. That’s how I got here, remember? I now have faces and names and phone numbers and memories with the people I’m going on this journey with. And a world of thankfulness for them. I learned that I am capable of carrying people, both uphill on my back, and on my shoulders if that’s what they need instead. I learned that even though I thought it would be, using a porta potty for ten days isn’t the worst thing ever, but bucket showers aren’t fun. I got to cross “participate in a large, multi-part dance-off and/or flash mob” off of my bucket list once and for all 🙂
It was good times.
With good people.
And a good, good Father:)
SAY IT AGAIN!!!
Erin
