I didn’t think I had expectations going into training camp.
I was wrong.
So were my expectations.
Here are a few. (Some are more serious than others.)
Expectation #1: I won’t miss the folks back home.
As I loaded up the truck with all the sunflower seeds in Mississippi, an entire cow worth of beef jerky, a way-too-full backpack, and a couple pieces of pretty essential gear that I would accidentally leave in the passenger seat for the full ten days of training camp, Mom hugged my neck and told me she’d miss me. After the obligatory “yeah ma, I’ll miss you too,” I chose Willie Nelson to narrate my 7-hour drive to Gainesville, and our dog watched me from the front door window as I backed out of the driveway.
Then began the process of responding to the “I’ll miss you” texts.
Y’all. It’s ten days.
I’m not a very relationship-driven person. I can probably count on one hand the number of times in which I’ve actually experienced the sensation of missing a person. The idea of noticing a person’s absence and being sad about it is just crazy to me, especially in a society of smart phones in which we never really have to miss anyone.
That being said, I’ve come to understand two very important truths: missing people is a reality for most, and I have the emotional competence of a boot. So I played the part of a functional member of society and text everybody back, but I was so ready to escape to the great outdoors, away from the burden cell phone service.
I arrived and set up camp, then happily turned off my phone and dropped it into the bottom of my day pack.
Reality: These relationships mean way more to me than I ever realized.
It’s embarrassing to admit, but the first few days of being cut off from my relationships back home were surprisingly difficult. I started getting really nervous about the entire trip, and when our squad mentor asked us to leave our smart phones at home when we left for the race, I was ready to throw up.
I now realize that the Lord was leading me through some of these feelings in order to draw me into a deeper intimacy with Him, but the experience has also led me to value and invest more deeply in my relationships with people.
I pray that He continues to teach me how to love like He does.
Expectation #2: The physical challenges of training will be a breeze.
I like to think I’m pretty fit. I work out nearly every day, and my nutrition is generally on point. I was not concerned with the four mile fitness hike or the two-day hike through 18 miles of the Appalachian Trail.
Reality: Training does not play.
Running on way fewer calories than we’re accustomed to, nearly every day began with group exercise, several nights presented less than ideal sleeping situations, my squad was full of fit guys who pushed each other to be better, and the altitude had me sucking for air 90% of the time.
It was rough, but it was rewarding.
Just kidding it kicked my butt.
It sure was beautiful though.
Expectation #3: I’m gonna hate my squad.
In my flesh, I get tired of people really quickly. So the idea of spending 11 months with just a few other people terrified me. I was confident that after a few days, I’d have already gone completely crazy and wanted out.
I was also concerned about the fact that the things that make me stand out in my peer groups are the same things that got my entire squad accepted to our route. I’m the guy in my crew who would do something crazy like the World Race.
Yeah so is every single one of these people.
I felt like the high school valedictorian who went to Yale and was suddenly surrounded by a bunch of older, taller valedictorians with better beards.
Reality: F Squad is the greatest group of people since Led Zeppelin.
I thought I didn’t matter because the characteristics with which I identified myself — Christian, fitness, adventure — were all things that these people exemplified, and to a higher degree than myself. Plus, I quickly realized that, born in May of ’93, I was the baby.
The awesome thing was that I never expressed this slight insecurity to anyone, yet as soon as these thoughts started to creep into my head, F Squad responded with constant reassurance of my place in the group. So constant that I started a list in the back of my journal of ways in which my new family encouraged me.
I forgot a few, and I still ran out of room on the page.
Highlights: Relationships back home matter. Training camp is demanding. I’m crazy about every single person in my squad. God is good. Training camp was awesome.
End of post.
