DRILLSPEAK BLOG

Discipline as Love

2012-01-10T10:34:00.001-05:00

I came across the following post on DISCIPLINE on a fellow trainer's Facebook thread. Credit to Brett Denton:

http://www.charlespoliquin.com/ArticlesMultimedia/Articles/Article/161/The_Myth_of_Discipline.aspx

The article is from charlespoliquin.com, the website of the renowned strength coach bearing that name. The man is highly regarded in all things physical training and nutrition and certainly knows plenty about the topic of discipline, given the work he is in. All due respect to the man.

Poliquin's take on our DDIP, Week Two theme is that the term discipline, in its traditional usage is overworked and obsolete. Love is acknowledged as the driving force in all our decision-making: "we are the result of what we love most.You either love finely-etched washboard abs more than donuts (or the reverse)..." While I absolutely appreciate the angle this author has taken on the subject of discipline and the consideration given to sports psychology, I have a few caveats, that prompt us to revisit the textbook definition of the term.

World English Dictionary

discipline (ˈdɪsɪplɪn)

— n
1.	training or conditions imposed for the improvement of physical powers, self-control, etc
2.	systematic training in obedience to regulations and authority
3.	the state of improved behaviour, etc, resulting from such training or conditions
4.	punishment or chastisement
5.	a system of rules for behaviour, methods of practice, etc
6.	a branch of learning or instruction
7.	the laws governing members of a Church
8.	a scourge of knotted cords

— vb
9.	to improve or attempt to improve the behaviour, orderliness, etc, of by training, conditions, or rules
10.	to punish or correct

[C13: from Latin disciplīna teaching, from discipulus disciple ]

'disciplinable

— *adj*

disciplinal

— *adj*

'discipliner

— n

Collins English Dictionary - Complete & Unabridged 10th Edition
2009 © William Collins Sons & Co. Ltd. 1979, 1986 © HarperCollins
Publishers 1998, 2000, 2003, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2009
Cite This Source

Etymonline

Word Origin & History

discipline

early 13c., from O.Fr. descepline, from L. disciplina "instruction given to a disciple," from discipulus (see disciple). Sense of "treatment that corrects or punishes" is from notion of "order necessary for instruction." The Latin word is glossed in O.E. by þeodscipe. Meaning

As you can see, it is no wonder that the term discipline has the reputation it does. We read things like, "training imposed; punishment; obedience; improved behavior," and automatically recoil from the entity, as it comes off as harsh and painful...something to be feared. But dare I suggest, "feared" merely by those who dare not do what is plainly difficult, attaining "a state of improved behavior, that is resultant from (disciplined) training." I believe that discipline can be viewed as love, but mostly by those who have done enough work to experience the just reward at the other side of struggle.

Discipline can be painful, that is a fact...a fact this esteemed strength coach is all too familiar with, to the point of enlightenment. Operating at the apex of the world of physical training, it is easy to become philosophical. It's kind of like a college graduate walking off the stage with his diploma and telling a prospective student undergoing orientation, "it was easy, piece of cake." OK. Easy for you to say!

The definition of discipline talks a lot about following rules, a rigidity is conveyed. And this is appropriate, if we acknowledge one of the more antiquated definitions of the term: discipline as "a field of study." In this regard, consider your favorite subject...reading, writing, arithmetic, perhaps a second language. Or reverting back to the article's context, any physical pursuit. I always think of the martial arts, a scene from Kung Fu Theater, with rows upon rows of pupils standing on a training ground throwing punch after punch in unison - focusing on the basics. In all these examples, rules are followed, stacked like so many cement blocks on a foundation. You start at the beginning of the lesson, though you may dream of having mastered the coursework. I'm thinking right now of the power of a story, say a really good novel. You start at the beginning and engage your mind in the details of the tale, which sometimes can be a bit drab. The book takes you on a journey, with peaks and valleys. Discipline keeps you reading. When you arrive at the end of the book, as the story comes to a climax, the narrative comes together and the moral of the story comes to light. To me, that is love. Love is an emotion, one that requires perspective.

Love Over Discipline

Having rolled from the rack to come down and get to work on this discipline piece, I was writing and deleting, returning to the original article and editing...feeling my way through the prose. That is taking discipline. Love arrives in the form of my three year old Lily, who wants to practice the discipline of ball-throwing. Sitting in my recliner with laptop in place, Tinkerbell on the TV and my chocolate lab posturing in my face, her serpent-like canine tongue strategically lashing my lips, I had to make a decision. I set my computer aside and immersed myself in Lily's throwing technique. A child's attention span being mere moments, I volleyed the ball back and forth with her several times, and watched her face for emotion, any hint of her loving the activity. I throw and the ball drops through her hands, she picks it up and throws back. I throw, she drops, but recovers more quickly and throws back. I throw, she catches, and a hint of love (confidence) is apparent on her beautiful face.

It is indeed, quite easy to see how an individual can learn to love discipline. But to consider discipline as love, that is a philosophy that will take some systematic training in obedience to regulations and authority. And there will likely be pain involved.

This is merely an opinion piece. Thank you CP, for inspiring my commentary.

When Yoda says MOTIVATED, you say DEDICATED!

2011-08-15T23:43:00.000-04:00

The entities of motivation and dedication complement one another perfectly; they facilitate one another. With a rough definition of the term motivation being "the driving force by which humans achieve their goals," usually upon positively identifying that 'driving force,' we hold onto it tightly, reluctant to let it go. It is as if we have found our way, figured something out or been let in on a secret. Consider a mouse struggling to find his way through a maze, once, and then subsequently much more efficiently. A wise person would dedicate himself to the perpetuation of this "force," so as to facilitate the accomplishment of goals and ultimately, happiness.

I am no Star Wars nerd, but a discussion of "the force" is not possible without referencing these movies. For your perspective, check this out: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Force_(Star_Wars). Most interesting to me and relevant to this blog is the concept of "force sensitivity," whereby an individual possesses a particular affinity for the force; they seem innately capable of expressing the force via special powers. It seems that in the Star Wars saga this ability is born and less often made.

I have seen people take hold of a kind of force, across the demographic, late in life and against significant odds. I have observed this repeatedly, outside of science fiction. Ordinary people are really capable of extraordinary things, after accomplishing which, they become extraordinary people, who show the way to others. Pay it forward. When people ratchet up to a new level of "force sensitivity," they understandably feel better about themselves, other people and the situations that life presents. A degree of wisdom manifests, as they pit the confidence of their successes against new trials. The individual seems to vibrate at a higher level and everything becomes easier to them. I have likened this to an avatar the person capably assumes; some video game icon like Super Mario who finds the magic mushroom and breezes through the game.

Sadly, some never find the magic mushroom, usually because they never look. In answer to the following exchange between Luke and Yoda: “[Luke:] I can’t believe it. [Yoda:] That is why you fail.” I have seen more than a few fall chronically short of their goals for lack of self confidence or belief in themselves. But courtesy a nudge in the right direction by someone who has been where the individual is trying to go; given the right mentoring and moral support, previously insurmountable obstacles are removed - prompting a mental and finally physical victory.

Watch, as Luke strains to raise the X-Wing fighter from the swamp. R2D2 and Yoda look on with excitement...they believe in Luke and know he can do it, but he doesn't believe in himself. His motivation is lacking and so he can't express the force. But after a sufficient period of hard training, Luke catches a glimpse of his full potential, which is essentially limitless. He then dedicates himself fully to becoming a Jedi and he's off to the races.

MOTIVATION <-------------> DEDICATION

More perspective from Yoda:

“Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering.”

Rise-in-kids-CT-scans-raises-alarm

2011-07-27T16:22:00.000-04:00

Rise-in-kids-CT-scans-raises-alarm

"In the US, the average radiation dose to which we are exposed has doubled in the past 30 years. The average dose from natural background sources has not changed, but what has changed is a more than six-fold increase in the average radiation dose from medical imaging. The biggest contributor to this increase in the radiation dose from medical imaging is from CT: In 1980, about 3 million CT scans were done each year in the US, whereas the number now is over 70 million. Radiation doses from CT are typically more 100 times those from conventional x-ray exams, such as a chest x-rays or mammograms, and there is now direct epidemiological evidence of a small but statistically significant increased lifetime cancer risk at CT doses."

http://sciencewatch.com/inter/aut/2010/10-mar/10marBren/

DDIP 23 Graduation Ceremony - Special Awards issue

2011-07-19T00:24:00.000-04:00

DDIP 23 Graduation Ceremony - diploma and ID tag issue

2011-07-19T00:23:00.002-04:00

Perkiomen Formation Run to Cadence

2011-07-19T00:22:00.005-04:00

Spring Mountain Marching Cadence 2

2011-07-19T00:22:00.002-04:00

Spring Mountain Marching Cadence

2011-07-19T00:21:00.003-04:00

DrillSpeak Manatawny

2011-07-19T00:21:00.000-04:00

Press Release - DrillSpeak Mission to Kiddie Academy

2011-07-18T19:43:00.001-04:00

Thursday, July 14 - Harleysville, PA.

This morning, Dr. Drill. Mrs. Drill and the Drillbits embarked on a public health mission to Kiddie Academy, Harleysville.We were invited to Kiddie Academy by owner, Sean Thomas, to bring all the healthy motivation inherent to Dr. Drill Instructor Program to the students of his facility, who range in age from infants to nine years old. The DrillBits, clad in their camoflauge Zero Dark Thirty t-shirts raced proudly around the place in preparation for the healthy event, personifying the DDIP philosophy of "what you put in, you will get out!"

Training began indoors, where Dr. Drill engaged the group in a period-of-instruction on his "Four Motivating Health Tips:"

1.Use your head: Learn something every day at Kiddie Academy

2.Eat Right: "What you put in, you get out" applied to your diet

3.Exercise: Move it or lose it!

4.Work together: Teamwork makes the dream work!

The Kiddies of the Academy were loud and proud, shouting back cadences and giving their all thoughout the assembly. The group was highly-motivated and clearly grasped the concept of, "health-is-wealth."

Next, outside we went! The students took to the playground via marching cadence, "Nice and easy - NICE and SLOW...Kiddie Academy, HERE WE GO!" We conducted some rigorous physical training while the youngest recruits looked on.

To close the session, we brought the enthusiasm back indoors and reviewed the learning points of the day. Prizes were given out to the true motivators of the group; those who sounded off loud and proud, representing for their alma mater.

"1-2-3 DDIP, Kiddie Academy!"

As we loaded the DrillBits into the truck, the students could be seen crowding the windows, smiles on their faces and Dr. Drill stickers fashioned on their shirts!

Dr. Drill's "Mission Possible"Boot Camp Assembly Series features a high-energy, fun-filled, participation-packed performance that highlights the importance of healthy living, teamwork and moral character in America's youth.

The President's Health Initiative has brought America's public health crisis of childhood obesity and poor physical fitness into the forefront. Dr. Drill's unique program engages students in an interactive experience that energizes and empowers them to be more aware of the value of healthy habits.

"We found Dr. Drill's enthusiam to be contagious and applaude his efforts to be such a wonderful mentor to our youth. I attended a Home & School meeting tonight and all the parents in attendance said their children came home excited about their experience." A.C.

For more information on a DrillSpeak assembly at your school, contact us at

215-855-6154 or via email at drdrill0530@live.com.

www.drdrillinstructor.com/drdrillspeaks.htm

DrillSpeak Mission to Camp Manatawny!

2011-07-13T12:19:00.000-04:00

-Press Release-

DrillSpeak Mission to Camp Manatawny!

Tuesday, July 12 - Douglassville, PA.

Last night, Dr. Drill and the Night Pirate platoon embarked on a public health mission to Camp Manatawny, a Christian Camp in Douglassville, PA.

We were invited to Manatawny by Camp Leader and DDIP Warrrior, Dave Garrett, AKA "Bandit," to bring all the healthy motivation inherent to Dr. Drill operations to his 7th and 8th grade campers. Accompanying Dr. Drill, were a capable bunch of Pirates, who lead-by-example, personifying the DDIP philosophy of "what you put in, you will get out!"

Training started indoors, where Dr. Drill engaged the group in his Stay Fit While You Sit regimen. The campers were loud and proud, shouting back cadences and giving their all. The incredible spirit of Camp Manatawny was on full display.

Next, outside we went! Campers took to the fields via marching cadence, "ah nice and easy - NICE and SLOW...Manatawny, HERE WE GO!" We circled up, conducted some physical training in the "instructor leads, you follow" format. We sure worked up a sweat doing the Leaping Leni Lenape!

To close the evening, the various tribes battled one another in a fierce tug-o-war, with a rope commandeered from the docks in Philly, just as the sun dropped below the horizon.

There we sat in school circle, the Campers of Manatawny and the DDIP Night Pirates - unified by hard work and comaraderie:

"1-2-3 DDIP, Manatawny and the Pirates, Yo Hoh, Me Hearties!"

"Manatawny is a camp, retreat and gathering place situated on 87 acres in a peaceful, country setting within easy driving range of Valley Forge, Allentown, Reading and Lancaster. It is a place where groups gather to learn, to dine, to relax and to energize their creativity. It is the perfect location to revitalize body, mind and spirit. Use this section to describe your event in full. Be sure to tell your contacts why the event is being held - offered annually, to benefit a particular cause, to celebrate, etc.

Dr. Drill Instructor, Inc.
14 Lincoln Ave
Lansdale, Pennsylvania 19446
www.drdrillinstructor.com
215.855.6154

Event Block

Dr. Drill's "Mission Possible"Boot Camp Assembly Series

features a high-energy, fun-filled, participation-packed performance that highlights the importance of healthy living, teamwork and moral character in America's youth.

The President's Health Initiative has brought America's public health crisis of childhood obesity and poor physical fitness into the forefront. Dr. Drill's unique program engages students in an interactive experience that energizes and empowers them to be more aware of the value of healthy habits.

"We found Dr. Drill's enthusiam to be contagious and applaude his efforts to be such a wonderful montor to our youth. I attended a Home & School meeting tonight and all the parents in attendance said their children came home excited about their experience."

For more information on prices/availability for your school, contact us at

215-855-6154 or via email at drdrill0530@live.com.

Human Resources - Mission Possible?

2011-06-30T13:04:00.000-04:00

Night Pirates: tonight, you will be lead by Babushka.

GMC: You are forever on "the list." Tomorrow, you will be lead by the capable Glaze.

Warriors: Mater the Greater will be calling the shots tomorrow.

Survivors: Asspack is on point this Saturday.

All others who have tossed your hats in the ring also must assume leadership roles. You will function in support of this chosen leader, acting as their counsel and as the precious human resource which you are, to be used accordingly.

Instructors and Guides are to shadow the process, keeping safety in place and only engaging when absolutely necessary. Leaders: confide in the on-duty Instructors for curriculum, admin and logistics before crossing the "line of departure."

Your mission: To discipline, motivate, educate and exercise your unit to an optimal state-of-health.

How you accomplish this is entirely up to you...the curriculum is yours. You must honor every participant in your platoon...they have skills and strengths which you must employ appropriately to get the job done. All this is honored and considered in your devising your plan-of-attack.

Safety is paramount.

The session ends with YOU in school circle with the short stinkin hairs standing on end, speaking passionately about a mission accomplished, courtesy teamwork! The personification of a fireworks display that you are less content to watch, and more interested in acting out.

OOOO AAAAA - Ooh Rah

Harvard weight study leaves taters tottering; growers

2011-06-29T23:54:00.000-04:00

http://yourlife.usatoday.com/fitness-food/diet-nutrition/story/2011/06/Harvard-weight-study-leaves-taters-tottering-growers/48932750/1

"It's just irresponsible on Harvard's part," says Gene Grabowski, senior vice president of Levick Strategic Communications, who was eating a bag of potato chips when reached at his office. "Whenever a study like this one comes out, it creates a real problem for an industry."

Harvard School of Public Health vs. Industry Lobbyist?

Irresponsible, Gene? Ever heard of the glycemic index? Potatoes are broken down into glucose, in many cases, faster than soft drinks. Potatoes aren't the devil...nothing wrong with some spuds every now and then, but make french fried potaters and other high glycemic-index foods the mainstay of your diet and...BAD THINGS:

Skyrocketing blood sugar
Hormone imbalance
Metabolic syndrome:
Overweight
Insulin resistance and diabetes
Chronic disease

http://www.hsph.harvard.edu/nutritionsource/what-should-you-eat/carbohydrates-full-story/

Shade: A weapon against skin cancer, childhood obesity

2011-06-29T23:04:00.000-04:00

http://yourlife.usatoday.com/parenting-family/story/2011/06/Shade-serves-as-a-weapon-against-skin-cancer-childhood-obesity/48965070/1

Add the sun to the multitude of factors which can prevent our children from engaging in adequate physical activity. It's rays and accompanying heat are real obstacles that must be accounted for and worked around.

Plant some damned trees!
Erect some man-made shelter...perhaps of solar panels, which power fans that would cool the playground and provide light for physical activity in the evening, when temperatures are lower.

But by all means, we must increase exponentially the quality and quantity of physical activity in and out of the scholastic setting.

The Importance of Being a First Responder

2011-06-29T13:56:00.000-04:00

Last Saturday I took part in a CPR re-certification. As it was an absolutely beautiful day, I wasn't exactly looking forward to spending what would amount to four hours indoors, going over material that I already felt I had a good command of. However, I must say that it was time well devoted to sharpening up on the basic life-saving methods that will undoubtedly serve me well someday.

We gathered at a fellow Instructor's home, at 1pm. As I pulled into the driveway, I was greeted by a jovial middle-aged man with a smile and his hand stretching through the window of my jeep, prior to it even coming to a halt. It was Joe Cohen, I would soon learn, our CPR Instructor and extremely nice guy, who had also agreed to allot a portion of his weekend to teaching us this valuable skill. We gathered in a room in the house and passed around CPR manuals, while Joe set up his video, which would help guide the instruction. The host generously provided food and beverages.

I braced myself for a very long and boring curriculum, but I was soon to be reminded of the importance of refreshing one's skills in the basics and it was glaringly apparent that Joe genuine enjoyed, if not loved to teach CPR. Our class was heavy on practical application, the student:teacher ratio was extremely favorable and Joe took all questions with enthusiasm. There were five students attending this CPR course, but I don't know why there weren't fifty! During each section of the instruction, I found myself moving from adult to child CPR dummies, rehearsing the procedures on the different sizes...considering the anatomy and imagining a particular situation and how to ideally respond. With children in this world now, I was more motivated yet to know what the hell to do.

The importance of knowing how to respond and being that person to respond first, when others are either paralyzed with fear or apathy, is extremely important. Anyone who has ever witness someone choking can attest to how truly scary a situation that is. Once, when I was traveling in upstate NY, we stopped a some greasy spoon for a quick meal. A few tables over, there was a very large family (literally and figuratively) enjoying their lunch, when the amiable chatter gave way to silence. I looked over to see a teenager holding his neck and going through various stages of color change, obviously choking, while his family looked on, apparently unable to provide aid. After what seemed like perhaps 10 minutes, a young man from the kitchen strode out and beat us all to the punch; grabbed the boy from behind, delivered a few sharp thrusts and out came a french fry. Quite the hero, he absolutely saved a life that day.

We all have the potential to be the hero...to act, but there are books written on the sort of situation where scores of people stand on the scene, while someone teeters precariously on the boundary of life and death but NO ONE TAKES ACTION! After sitting for Saturday's CPR cert, it is crystal clear in my mind again that rehearsal of immediate actions; of the fundamentals, is paramount. I am no stranger to this notion, but still I forget. When I was in the USMC, we were constantly training on the basics: taking care of your person and your gear; employing your weapon system; operating in various terrain; what to do in the event of a near ambush? Far ambush? How to cross a danger area? Contact front, R/L. We would conduct rehearsals for every mission we would carry out, going through the sequence mentally, prior to embarking on the actual mission. For then, it was the real deal, and mistakes were unforgiving.

We should all therefore have a basic command of the life saving steps - RESTORE THE BREATHING, STOP THE BLEEDING, PROTECT THE WOUND, TREAT FOR SHOCK. We must all know how to act in the case of emergency, to prepare ourselves to be first responders. We should also seek out the best, most qualified and enthusastic teachers to educate us. I am confident that Joe Cohen was that person, last weekend. Thank you Joe and see you again soon, with a larger group.

To book Joe for a CPR/First Aid certification, contact me at drdrill0530@live.com.

The Sad Shape We're In!

2011-06-20T13:33:00.000-04:00

Physical Activity Levels of High School Students, 2010

The above link will take you to a study connected to the CDC's, Healthy People 2010, which is a public health effort released this past December. Included in the objectives of HP 2010, is an increase in physical activity for America's youth.

The following physical activity standards were established for high schoolers and the data was collected:

One hour of aerobic activity daily
Strength training three or more times weekly
The first two criteria, taken in combination

As you might guess, American student's test scores for physical activity were found to be on par with their performance in math and science - in fact they sucked even worse:

"The findings of this study indicate that approximately 1 in 10 U.S. high school students met the HP 2020 objective for both aerobic and muscle-strengthening activities (PA 3.3). Tragically, the number of 9-12 graders actually meeting these low standards for combined physical activity was in the teens: "Nationwide, 12.2% of high school students met the HP 2020 objective for both aerobic and muscle-strengthening activities." Furthermore, females, upperclassmen and obese students scored worse than the rest.

The following also turns Dr. Drill's stomach: "The HP 2020 target for PA 3.1 (aerobic capacity) was 20.2%." How ambitious of us to ask that 20% of America's future practice healthy habits.

While this study represents a mere snapshot of the tragedy that has become true American public health (not the effectiveness of our emergency-care system or life expectancy, but quality-of-life, the prevalence of people engaging in the active process of health), and the authors admit some limitations, it does give us an appreciation for the magnitude of the problem, as well as potential implications down the road. The scientific community has made no secret that for the first time ever, an American born today may not enjoy the same health as previous generations. One instigator of this harsh forecast is the prevalence of obesity:

"Over the next few decades, life expectancy for the average American could decline by as much as 5 years unless aggressive efforts are made to slow rising rates of obesity, according to a team of scientists supported in part by the National Institute on Aging (NIA), a component of the National Institutes of Health (NIH) of the Department of Health and Human Services (DHHS). The U.S. could be facing its first sustained drop in life expectancy in the modern era, the researchers say, but this decline is not inevitable if Americans — particularly younger ones — trim their waistlines or if other improvements outweigh the impact of obesity."

Health is wealth, my friends, and as the saying goes, "At least you've got your health." But the data suggest we don't even have that. We're so focused on the fiscal happenings of Wall Street, that indeed, Main Street is overlooked, not only in terms of dollars and cents, but regarding another currency, the value of which is altogether more precious.

The good news is that this problem, like most of the big problems of this world, has a very simple fix:

GET OFF YOUR FAT ASS AND DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT!!!

With the weather being so stinking beautiful, get out and take a walk, ride a bike, hike, swim. Instead of being an armchair athlete, be a real athlete or at least try! There's nothing more sad really, than an overweight and unhealthy person, sporting your choice of professional sports jersey, eating junk while admiring finely tuned athletes take the field. That represents a sad irony and when it comes to such an adult taking his child to a sporting event, it's poor leadership...hipocrisy. You're either part of the solution or part of the problem.

Regarding the big decisions that government and industry might make to facilitate a public health change on the grand scale, Lord knows we all wish they would make the big plays. But if the news ticker is any indication of the capabilities of our nation politically, as the saying goes, "we might as well wish in one hand and shit in the other...see which one fills up first."

The road back to health doesn't begin at the White House, but in YOUR house. It's high time we Americans kicked off a grass roots effort to take the power back. Lead, follow, or get the hell out of the way.

"Exercise the Demons"

2011-06-13T07:30:00.171-04:00

Several years ago I was flipping around the channels, looking for some worthwhile television and I stumbled upon the timeless 90's comedy, Ace Ventura: Pet Detective. Now I know there are some of you, who are gonna say, "Oh, I hate Jim Carrey...he's so annoying!" And while I admit that I detest some of his attempts at more serious films, I have to say you're out of your mind if you can't appreciate his early work, from In living Color, on up through the Pet Detective flicks and Dumb and Dumber. When it comes to stupid humor and an actor really immersing himself into the comedic role, the man has few equals.

So I'm only a few minutes into the movie, when the above scene takes place, and I couldn't help but laugh out loud as if it were the very first time I viewed the film. Not only does Jim incorporate a spot-on parody of the freaky medium lady from Poltergeist, justifying copius laughter, but given the perspective through my work as 'Dr. Drill,' I very clearly saw potential for the phrase, "Exercise" the Demon in the capacity of a play-on-words - it's an appropriate pun, as I will explain.

For those with their heads in the sand, in the movie Poltergeist, the spiritual medium Tangina Barrons was brought in by parapsychologists to help get to the bottom of the frightful occurences in the Freeling house. She had an ability to communicate with the other side, and she would soon discover that there were spirits floating about the house, some of which were good and others bad. Her ultimate mission was to rid this family's house of ghosts, to "exorcise the demons." Well, it didn't look good for the Freelings for a while, as all ghostly hell breaks loose and their young daughter, Carol Anne, was sucked through the tv into another dimension. But after enduring a very tough time and with help from Tangina, the their "heyowse was cleeyah."

Let's face it, there are different types of demons, folks. Without dragging religion into this, if you are one who believes in all that is written about heaven and hell...or if you believe in paranormal activity...ghosts, spirits and apparitions - well, then you surely can conceptualize a certain type of 'demon.' This demon is scary no doubt, but for the purposes of this blog, I'm thinking of a more secular, generic variety.

We all "deal with our demons" from time to time. They range from bad habits to addictions to problems in the present and feelings of guilt for our past mistakes. The problem as I see it, is that regardless of the caliber of demon we're facing, the norm is for people to suppress the issue temporarily, which of course provides no long term fix. We screw ourselves in this way - the demons remain.

Fighting Back

I am happy to announce that I have discovered a solution to the above problem, which I term "Exercising" the Demon. It is what it is...the program which I lead is a regimen for physical and often mental betterment. It helps us solve our problems through the discipline of showing up early, working very hard in the dirt and functioning as part of a team. I can site example after example of individuals joining the Dr. Drill Instructor Program in efforts to lose a few pounds but finding that other benefits would prove to be more precious. In my time as Dr. Drill, I have seen the weak become strong, the meek become bold, the inconfident brimming with pride, the untrusting and skeptical become more open to the situations and people of this world.

Our discipline is rigorous physical training - PT, that is good for you and good for me, dammit! And with each four-count repetition, with each run to cadence and every stinking sound off, there is a corresponding affirmation - a cognition that exclaims, "I CAN, I WILL." Then you follow through. Consider the story, The Little Train That Could...the impact of a children's book, which merely asks us to believe in ourselves...to make that affirmation and follow through with action. All this is a very capable weapon to stash in our armamentariums, take all the trashy novels off the shelf and dust of the jacket of this priceless work of non-fiction.

Exercise: disciplined physical activity, preferably outdoors and never alone

The martial artist: victory attained with each punch, kick, block, throw or sweep. Bow to your sensei and your opponent as you step onto the mat

The boxer: the discipline of footwork, timing on the speed bag and jump rope, respect among opponents

Meditation: balance your body and mind, success with each repiratory cycle and click of the metronome

The reader: Knowledge is power, but practical application is where the rubber meets the road

Fellowship: Be dependable. Be good to your fellow human beings. Foster community...give to it and take from it, but never too much of either. Bad people = turds. Turds get flushed!

These are only a few examples of how we may purge ourselves of our demons but there are countless other ways to solve mental problems through physical means and vice versa. So if you find yourself in a rut, forever dealing with the same demons, to no avail, try exercising the demon. Learn to look your problems squarely in the eye, chew up those demons and take large demon dumps.

Paradox of DDIP

2011-05-25T00:16:00.002-04:00

As per Wikipedia:

A paradox is a seemingly true statement or group of statements that lead to a contradiction or a situation which seems to defy logic or intuition. The term is also used for an apparent contradiction that actually expresses a non-dual truth such as two true sentences which put together seem incompatible as both being true (cf. Catuskoti)...Literary and other artistic uses of paradoxes imply no contradiction and may be used to describe situations that are ironic.[1] Sometimes the term paradox is used for situations that are merely surprising.

I love my work. It is fascinating, to me, on multiple levels. It seems that with each successive platoon, training day and exercise repetition, I discover something new about myself, other people and this crazy world we live in. Something that I find particularly interesting, is the fact that there are a number of paradoxes around the character I step into and the living, breathing and constantly-evolving entity termed the Dr. Drill Instructor Program..."DDIP."

There are several counter-intuitives which become apparent as a participant evolves within DDIP. Intertwined in the workings of the course are certain "isms", which at first appear one way, but with additional time and exposure to the course, another reality becomes apparent. Through hard work and repetition, all of the paradoxes discussed below give way to incredible benefit. But much like the study of any worthwhile discpiline, be it the martial arts, philosophy or the fine arts, only with training and time will one be able to master and fully appreciate all that can be gleaned. This is not the path of least resistance, it's the "Road Less Traveled" as described by F. Scott Peck; not the easy way, but the right way. DDIP is my path and I would like to share with you some of it's finer nuances. Things are not always what they seem, but if you risk a closer look, you will come to understand it as I do. It's a metaphor for life itself, a method to not only survive, but thrive in an often chaotic world.

Duality of the Mire

In DDIP, we train almost exclusively outdoors and under the elements. We physically exert ourselves in the high grass and across varied and unknown terrain. "If it ain't rainin, we ain't trainin" is a phrase I learned in the Marine Corps, as the same was always true. As a young devildog, I traveled the world, thankfully in peacetime, dragging my body across the ground, wading through swamps and clamoring up hillsides, en route to the objective. Bugs were of little concern. Mud and grime were the norm. We were always wet, courtesy of Mother Nature "pissing on us" or more usually, due to our own sweat. We often wore the same uniform and gear for days, and on some instances, longer than that. After a week-long field op, we would drive on trucks back to the rear or transit via our amtracks back to the ship, whereby we would perhaps shower a bit and head immediately out in town to "play harder." We would invade all-you-can-eat joints like Golden Corral by the squad and sit with our faces half cami-painted up, happy to have some hot chow, in lieu of unpalatable MRE's. We were happy...comparatively, at least. For all the dirt, the monkey butt, swamp ass, bug bites, rashes, blisters - for all that was unclean, we appreciated more every opportunity to be clean and enjoy life outside of a patrol through the bush. I recall one particular occasion, where we were in Spain, training in some vast cow pasture. At night we were hit with torrential rains like you would not believe. We cowered under every piece of rain-impervious material until the morning came, at which time we ascended, stood in a circle and smoked or dipped, talked much shit. Even non-smokers smoked and God-fearer's slung profanity with the best of us, an attempt to find solace in the opposite of the situation we were in; to find comfort.

As Dr. Drill, I routinely drag my DDIP'ers through the muck. This very evening, we trained in foot-high grass and a bit of mud. This always throws the newbies for a loop, as they are pushed so far out of their comfort zones. But I feel the dirt is such an essential element that the program would not be the same conducted within four walls. The "dirty" paradox is the irony that training in the muck is one of the things all new recruits find uncomfortable and even abhor, but halfway through the session they come to embrace it. Umbrellas are then a thing of the past. And later when the storm rages outside, you appreciate the luxury of clean, dry clothes, knowing that if it were a training day, you most certainly would be out in that torrent. You don't wish to go out there but remain unscared of it and therefore it can't steal your thunder. Knowing that you could withstand the elements leaves the DDIP'er with a degree of power that people without perspective lack.

One last note on training in the muck: it brings people together. You can learn a lot about someone when you endure such disgustingness. Once upon a time in the North Carolina wilderness, my fellow Marine, "Pudge," and I sat a swampy road junction on a LP/OP (listening post, observation post), sitting in a puddle, back to back, wearing our rucksacks, weapons in hand. Mosquitos swarmed us, as we tried to cover ourselves with ponchos, but it was no use. I still get the chills recalling the annoying buzz of the skeeters as they found their way into the poncho and fed on us. There is a certain respect that is exchanged under such harsh conditions...the kind you won't find in a controlled environment.

Sound off Paradox - "Rock-n-Roll Ain't Noise Pollution"

One hundred people "sounding off" four-count exercises at six in the morning tends to piss the locals off. I have caught much shit due to DDIP noise pollution over the years, that I almost expect it, particularly as the spring arrives and we train outdoors almost exclusively. While I prefer to be a good neighbor, who is considerate of others in my community, the show must go on. DDIP requires no music, using miltary SOP we make it. As we repetitively exclaim, "I count the cadence and you count the repetition." And when the group assembles its collective voice, or "combat shout" there is a unification. Teamwork being the name of the game, when you combine rigorous training with a powerful sound off, you establish an identity within the organization; become part of something. Conversely, those with a half-assed effort or weak sound off sadly never accomplish the same.

Also disturbing the peace is the "boot camp" norm of the authoritative instructor. (S)he may appear loud, imposing, aggressive, even mildly abusive at times, as commands are barked and an atmosphere of discipline is fostered. At a glance, this demonic presence seems harsh, and it scares more than a few away, but with greater scrutiny it becomes apparent that this is more a facilitative character than a true bad guy. Dealers of tough love, the DDIP Instructor plays a major role in breaking people of nasty habits and removing physical and mental obstacles perceived. As I frequently make mention, "it's not what you say but how you say it, not what you do but how you do it." The sound off is your chance to punctuate the end of your sentence. We don't use periods or question marks in DDIP, but the exclamation point, exclusively. I have seen this attitude transition the meek and mild into the confident and assertive. One of my favorite stories on this subject involves a woman in her fifties who trained DDIP for several years. A beautiful woman, she had become weary of men aggressively hitting on her when out on the town. One day, she was enjoying happy hour with a few girlfiends in a local restaurant, and as a particular creep gawked at her, she reflexively exclaimed, "what are you, fucking retarted?" Though the choice of words was unfortunate, those are the facts, and as she recounted the incident to me, she glowed with a measure of pride, acknowledging the stand she was able to take. The sound off has positioned more people to be assertive, first responders than any other aspect of DDIP, for action follows thought; by training loud and proud, you will approach your goals with confidence.

The Paradox of PT Pain

Let's face it, rigorous physical training can be painful. As new recruits file into the office for their DDIP screenings, I am repeatedly asked a rendition of, "are you gonna kill me?" or "how hard is it gonna be?" And to a veritable cross-section of the population, I respond, "you wouldn't want to do it if it were easy, would you?" I also explain that the course is very rigorous but can be conducted at one's own pace.

Sometimes, I fib a little, proclaiming that DDIP is not a no-pain, no-gain activity. While this statement does not represent a blatant lie, once the individual gets their feet wet, they are faced with the glaring reality that the hard physical training they engage in is the source of much discomfort. My precise sentiments are, "for the first two weeks of class, you're gonna feel like hell." It takes all of this time period for most and even longer for the stragglers to begin to appreciate the "training effect," the period where exercise adaptation takes place. Once the training effect has been achieved, the recruit is in far less danger of over-training and they may throttle up safely.

There can be no doubt that disciplined training is the key to success in all things athletic, and the pain that comes with "discipline" seldom feels good, at least not before it gleans a result. Whatever the sport or physical challenge, mastery can only be attained through repetition of the basics. Military physical training methods are the epitome of this philosophy. A passage in the book I'm currently reading (The Heart and the Fist, E. Greitens) describes the platoon calisthenic methods employed in SEAL training as, "Spiritual training by physical means, it tests teamwork as much as endurance." My first exposure to disciplined group PT dates back to the late 80's, when as a spindly eighth grader, I first joined the wrestling team. We trained hard in a smelly room lined with mats, performing basic exercises such as the push up and jumping jack. We ran, wrestled off and functioned as a unit. I recognized then, how an arduous workout en mass, could deliver results and satisfaction to both the individual as well as the group. It brought us together. Pushing through the pain of the workout was a badge of honor, as was the struggle of cutting weight and the beginnings of Cauliflower Ear. As we negotiated these rights-of-passage together, we became a band of brothers.

One must learn to distinguish between good and bad pain. Bad pain is a sure sign of injury or over-training, and hence, must be avoided at all costs. But good pain is valuable stuff, comrades, the keys to the castle. This is the Paradox of PT Pain.

On Musashi's, "Three Combat Shouts" and Your Motivation!

2011-04-28T01:26:00.001-04:00

We humans can be quite vocal. We talk a hell of a lot, sing on occasion, weep and wail when we're sad and when we're furious we sometimes scream. I have always been intrigued by how appropriately-matched our moods are with the sounds we emit. Consider the phrases, "flying high," "blow my stack," "chillin out," and "down in the dumps" for an illustration of the complementary interaction between emotion and expression. What kind of sound is likely to come out of you, when you're in a given mood? Dunno about you, but when I'm flying high, for instance, I'm "on"...talking excitedly, at a pretty ambitious clip, the tone of my voice toward the right of the spectrum, but not off the charts. Conversely, when I'm a bit depressed, so is my dialogue, the sounds I make being low and slow. I find all this pretty interesting, particularly the influence our mood-expression can have on others around us. On that last note...if you're in a bad mood or just feel like being negative, do the rest of us a big fucking favor and LIE TO US, OK. We don't need you bringing the rest of us down! In fact, lie to yourself...fake it (your motivation) till you make it and maybe you'll convince yourself to stop wasting your precious time on this earth in a funk.

With all this philosophy floating around randomly in my brain-housing-group, my reticular activator (THE RETICULAR ACTIVATOR is a part of the brain the stays on alert. It's job is to make you notice some things and ignore other things (if you noticed everything, you'd be too distracted to function). When you buy a new VW, it seems like the whole world has bought VWs, because you notice them everywhere. That's the reticular activator at work.) sprang to life one day, as I was perusing Musashi's Book of Five Rings:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Book_of_Five_Rings

Musashi is essentially the most accomplished samurai of all time, having bested scores of opponents in his day in sword fights to the death. He was believed to have retreated into a cave later in life, during which time he compiled 'five rings'.... his martial philosophy, which is in my opinion cut out of the same cloth as Sun Tzu's, The Art of War. It is just really good shit. One particular segment of the book spoke to me, a few paragraphs on what Musashi terms, "combat shouting."

"There are at least two entries related to shouting in the Fire Book. One is related to frightening the enemy either before or during combat with a sudden, well-timed shout that breaks the opponent's rhythm and it is stated that you should research this idea well. The other is specifically related to the timing and types of shouting in combat. These are the three shouts.

Musashi breaks down the three shouts into when they should take place: before, during, and after combat. He also explains that the shout has energy. If you remember the external links provided in the Kiai entry, this idea should come as no surprise to you in the sense of the tangible or in the sense of ki.

Later, he goes on to state that in large scale conflict, shouting is done when first entering battle (presumably to "psyche" yourself up and possibly intimidate the enemy). During battle, low-pitched shouts are used while attacking (likely to add strength to attacks). After battle, another shout is used as a victory cry (that also releases pent-up energy)."

The above is very pertinent to our work in the Dr. Drill Instructor Program, merely because we do a lot of yelling. Just to clarify, no one is yelling at each other, it's more of what I term, "yelling at adversity." Furthermore, though we are talking about exercise here, not a combat situation, the same principles in shouting apply. There are many different types of battles fought in life, and there is an entity in DDIP I refer to as, "exercising the demon." On this battlefield, we use our combat shouts to drive a physical work ethic and team spirit that destroys the negative mindset. We're literally using a physical strength to solve a problem in motivation here.

In addition to our sounding off the exercise cadence and repetition in the traditional military format, of 1-2-3...[1], 1-2-3...[2], which maintains the tempo of our workout, team chants are often bellowed, along with organizational cues from the instructors. Finally, we end in "school circle," closing our training with a motivational platoon mantra, "1-2-3...aDDIP...aGMC...aStinkin Rock Pit, Smells Like Shit - Who-who-Woot, Slap/Stand - or the equivalent.

The cadence calling for each exercise is redundant, to such a degree that you may get lost in it, which is to your advantage as the PT grinds onward and upward in intensity. It takes on a sort of meditative quality, which is essentially the frequency of the platoon. A trained ear, familiar with this frequency, can hear plainly when it needs adjusting, and the correction is always up, never down. I have often described the up-regulation of DDIP shouting as analogous to maintaining a volley. As the training continues, the troops become fatigued and the combat shouting begins to falter, there are certain methods of communication which can provide a boost. They are verbal commands, body language and leadership-by-example. The first is obvious. Body language means altering your facial expressions and postures to prompt a motivational reaction from the group. Leadership-by-example means jumping down along side the troops and performing the task in the most exacting and aggressive manner possible, sufficient to prompt a mirror image in the participant. This last point flies directly in the face of standing on the sideline, barking commands but not practicing what you preach.

Practice your combat shouts, my friends...it's not what you do, but how you do it!

"Losers Look At The Ground!" - A Lesson in Character

2011-04-12T00:19:00.001-04:00

Marine Corps Recruit Training Depot, Parris Island, South Carolina - 1993

Platoon 2080 had come a long way after enduring First Phase of USMC Boot Camp, the initial rigorous month of training in the Paris Island heat and humidity was now in our rear-view mirror. Our physical and mental beings had been, at this point, partly purged of civilian nastiness; the way we walked, talked and perceived the world around us had been changed forever. We were students of bushido, the "way of the warrior" - modern-day samurai pupils, immersed both day and night in the arts of combat. The Drill Instructors were training us how we would be expected to fight - in a word: relentlessly.

We would wake at zero dark thirty, to the now familiar barrage to the senses:

Hearing: Drill Instructors screaming at us, "Get on line, get on line...expletive, nasty thing...expletive. I will bust your heart!"

Smelling: The squad bay aroma was a combination of wool blankets, CLP (gun oil), Aqua Velva, and the predictable and unmistakable scents of maleness: farts, sweat and testosterone. Throw in a whiff of the the surrounding tidal swamps and the characteristic above-ground plumbing and you get the idea.

Tasting: this sense having an intimate relationship with olfaction, take that to mean everything tasted like the corresponding smelly descriptions. Beyond that, there was the metallic taste that came along with cotton mouth and the nasty ass food we called chow. Then there was what could be called "the Paris Island Milieu," our every experience on that godforsaken island, rapidly inspired and expired through such heat and humidity, we might as well have been breathing through straws. All this left such a distinct gustatory impression, that I am certain every Marine returning to Paris Island will find it familiar on his taste buds, and relive the experience in full.

Seeing: Sight alignment and sight picture, of course; the windage flag; ginormous cockroaches, cruising the squad bay, and fire ants that would swarm and devour your spit when you were pulling targets in the butts. Everything was green, brown or black, the colors comprising camoflage - the only exception being the frequent glimpse of scarlet and gold of the USMC emblem: the eagle, globe and anchor, which was all but forbidden to us at the moment, for we had not yet earned the title "Marine."

Feeling: Physical pain from the rigorous training, mental anguish from missing "Suzy," our families and the comforts of home. Eventually, a familiarity with the intense recruit training regimen, which instilled in each recruit a feeling of pride, accomplishment and a growing appreciation for the men around you, who you relied upon to accomplish every task.

Pardon me for the lengthy description, entire books could and have been written on the above experience. But it is very important to appreciate the environment which sets the stage for the moral of this story.

"Losers Look At The Ground"

We were now entering 2nd Phase of Recruit Training, and among other duties during this period, Platoon 2080 was tasked with the mission of "mess duty" at the 2nd Battalion chow hall. Mess duty essentially had us functioning in every menial task inherent to a food service institution. We would cut fresh fruit, scrub pots and pans in the "scullery" and serve other recruits chow. The chow hall was always crazy busy, regardless of whether we had actual diners in-house, as there was constant prep work and cleaning to be done.

Platoon after platoon of recruits would cycle through in the usual manner, via close-order-drill. The barking commands were predictably issued by the Drill Instructors, their raspy voices harassing, "AhLEFT, rrIGHT, AhLllaft RIGHT, aCOLUMN RighTT - MARCH! PlaTOON, HALT." Knowledge was drilled during the wait to enter: "First General Order? Sir, the First General Order is..."

In came first squad, then the others in sequence. Trays were grabbed and recruits would sidestep mechanically through the chow line, as we dished out servings of eggs and creamed beef, stuffing and "turkey." Our mantra to them was always, "stay motivated, recruit," which always seemed to inspire some hope that times would indeed get better.

On this particular day, I was working in the scullery, assisting my fellow recruits in washing trays. As the giant machine churned, steamed and came to a halt, we would open it up, dry and stack the trays and then carry them out to their carriages on the chow-room floor, for the recruits to grab. I loaded up a stack of perhaps thirty trays and bumped open the scullery door, feeling good about having a job to do; completing this non-combat training task was a respite from the heat and mud. Satisfied to have struck a rhythm in my work, I swung around the corner and my employee-of-the-month attitude was clothes-lined by the ominous presence of my Senior Drill Instructor, standing in the threshold of the hatch (doorway). I averted my eyes, as the thirty-odd trays that I had previously wielded with ease grew painfully heavy.

Staff Sergeant Hanke was a pretty short Marine, 5'5" is giving him credit, I'm certain. He was small in stature but giant in character...in all qualities Marine. He had all the attributes of the Marine Drill Instructor. He was of impeccable physical fitness...could run three miles in 16 minutes and change; climb two ropes at the obstacle course simultaneously, one in each hand. He had tremendous "command presence," the type of man who had everyone on the island's respect - by my observation, especially that of his peers, which spoke volumes. To Platoon 2080, SSgt. Hanke was on the level of supreme being. And I, Recruit Oberst, the scullery lacky, had stepped into his kill zone.

My gaze rebounded from his eyes directly to the floor, as I made for the tray rack - away from him! But my retreat was immediately arrested by the Senior Drill Instructor's bellow, "Heyyy, Oberssst! Commmere, YOU NASTY THING!" He stared through me, his icy eyes popping out, along with several serpentine veins on his forehead. "LOCK YOUR BODY, FREAK!"

Yes, Sir!

"Hey, Oberst" (talking now, his voice still a raspy uhhhhhhhhh, but instructive; matter-of-fact, not demeaning), "know who looks at the ground, Oberst?"

No, Sir!

"Loozers."

I fought back a smile, then a frown...some shit in between, as I anxiously considered the fear and intimidation I felt, just a minute earlier by the man's mere presence. Then I responded to the Senior DI's challenge, defiantly-locking my eyes to his, and I found not the face of a man trying to demean me, but the countenance of a samurai sensei, demanding fearlessness from his pupil...wanting it for me. Insisting it!

"Are you a LOSER, Oberst?"

No, Sir!

And so a valuable lesson was taught. Traveling my chosen path, I would be expected to face my fears, and overcome them. The importance of a firm handshake and a sincere look in the eye was now analogous to knowing the enemy, respecting your opponent and stopping only upon mission accomplishment. I consider it a hygiene, like bathing or brushing my teeth; only with such regularity can its integrity be upheld. And in looking fear in the eyes, we neutralize its momentum; take away its power. Like the animal that has you on the run or the fighter that has you on the ropes, fear relies upon your fleeing so it can chase you down. Never turn and run from life's problems.

I have put the valuable lesson of "Losers Look at the Ground" to work more times than I can count in the dozen years or so that have passed since my days at Paris Island. I also never miss an opportunity to seize the teachable moment, when I see others struggling with their own problems. To this day, when I see a friend solemnly looking at their feet, depressed about some impossible situation that has befallen them, I remind them "You know who looks at the ground?" Most of them have heard this story a million times and they chuckle and straighten up immediately. In so doing, I relive the day when I was called on the carpet to answer that rhetorical question, "Hey Oberst, you know who looks at the ground?" the day I was called a loser to bring out the winner in me.

"83 cents." or, The Plight of the Integrity Violator

2011-04-02T00:23:00.000-04:00

Integrity, as per Wikipedia:

Integrity is a concept of consistency of actions, values, methods, measures, principles, expectations, and outcomes. In ethics, integrity is regarded as the honesty and truthfulness or accuracy of one's actions. Integrity can be regarded as the opposite of hypocrisy,^[1] in that it regards internal consistency as a virtue, and suggests that parties holding apparently conflicting values should account for the discrepancy or alter their beliefs.
The word "integrity" stems from the Latin adjective integer (whole, complete).^[2] In this context, integrity is the inner sense of "wholeness" deriving from qualities such as honesty and consistency of character. As such, one may judge that others "have integrity" to the extent that they act according to the values, beliefs and principles they claim to hold.

Where I come from, integrity always meant doing the right thing; making the right decisions; being accountable for your actions. There's a USMC ideal that suggests a devildog should be able to leave his wallet sitting in the middle of his rack (bed) in the squad bay and let it sit there all day, and upon his return, find it unscathed and containing the entirety of his beer money. While I rarely tested this notion, being wary of some of the company I kept, particularly early on in my time-in-service, there was a genuine integrity throughout my time in the grunts that was evident in our everyday lives. From the physical training we conducted, to our care and maintenance for our weaponry, to the very way in which we walked, talked and looked out for one another - being a United States Marine...doing the job correctly, was about the upholding of integrity. Will someone please tell me, where in the civilian community does such true integrity exist? I would wager, few places.

My wife and her buddy took the kids to the Camden Aquarium today. It's an awesome place, so awesome that we bought an annual family pass. The aquarium is small enough not to be a logistical ordeal and the weather was sufficiently nasty today to keep the squeamish home, making it a great day to go. But we are talking about Camden, N.J. now friends - a dump among dumps, one of the most poverty-stricken cities in the U.S. Adding insult to injury, the state government decided to include in their recent budget cuts, the shit-canning of many civil servants, among them scores of cops and firefighters. So essentially what you have is the setting of the movie, Escape From NY, complete with drug dealers, thugs and panhandlers - oh, and a pretty decent-looking waterfront, featuring Adventure Aquarium and the Battleship NJ. But, you can't polish a turd - you know?

Getting to my story on integrity, or lack thereof, everyone had a blast at the aquarium and around 3pm they headed for the parking lot in hopes of beating the evening rush. But, the stinking battery was dead...click-click-click - perhaps one of the kids had pressed a light, which had been left on? So children-in-hand, they went over to a bus driver to ask for a jump start. The guy says, "can't chance it, sorry." What? Then they happened upon a maintenance man who worked at the aquarium, who ultimately helped, after making them sign a waiver. What has this world come to, if we can't help out a couple moms who clutch their children in the inclimate weather? This is the shit I'm talking about...integrity is scarce. Adding insult to injury, the predictable derelict walks over to take advantage of these ladies, "excuse me, miss...I'll just stand here (I suppose suggesting himself a non-threat), hey, my car broke down and I've been walking around in the rain for hours...I need bus fare." They give him a couple bucks. "Man...still short about four bucks." Get the $&#@ out of here dude!!! Had I been there, I might have taken all HIS money and dealt him an ass-whooping. All this summoned back to my memory a story I like to call, "83 cents" - and it's a good one:

It was a blustery Saturday night, back in 2007. We had agreed to meet another couple down at a good Mexican joint in East Norriton, PA. The place was called El Cancun, the food was great, fast and cheap - always a good combination. The only problem was, it was in a seedy shopping center located geographically, on the cusp of the haves and the have-nots. My son Samuel was mere months old, nestled in his car-seat in the back of the SUV. We spied our friends upon arrival and parked the vehicle as close as possible to the joint. We gathered our gear, covered up Sam, greeted our pals and hastily made our way to the entrance to the restaurant. The wind was whipping and damn cold, getting indoors was a priority.

As I stepped onto the curb with Sam's seat handle awkwardly positioned in the crook of my elbow, I saw a man approaching fast...there was something in his body language that indicated he intended to interact, which I thought strange, considering the weather. I thought about my son, my family, and how hungry I was for a quesadilla supreme - how completely I would destroy this person if he threatened any of these things. So now we're feet away and the previously determined-looking man changes his demeanor entirely, to one of "pity me, kind sir." He very politely asks, "excuse me sir, I hate to bother you, but...man - all I neeeed is eighty three cents." Well, what the hell does one say to that, so I dug in my pocket and pulled out a dollar. This was followed by, "may God bless you, sir...bless you." We hustle into the restaurant and sit down, a good part of our initial discussions being this bizarre encounter.

We ordered a couple appetizers and sipped a few drinks. Suddenly, Mandy turns to me and says, "shit...I forgot Sam's baby food! If he wakes up he is gonna be inconsolable, Aaron...sorry, can you go get some? I think I saw a supermarket across the way." Reluctantly, the other dude and I head out on a hunt for some baby food - perhaps a little amused by this noble mission; the novelty of being a new daddy. We see an Aldi and head over, "piece of cake," right? Yeah, well Aldi doesn't have shit! If you like boxes strewn all over the place and ZERO baby food, head to Aldi. Scarred by the experience of speed-walking up and down the aisles in this establishment, only to learn that they don't carry the stuff, suffice it to say that I don't shop there. Then, we see a Super K-Mart...and wasn't it super?! Every freak in Pennsyltucky thought it was the place to be on this particular evening, and if there was any baby food there, I couldn't stomach another minute in the place to close the deal.

Frustrated at the thought of a screaming newborn, cold food and ultimately failing in the modest task, which was our charge, we thought hard. "Wait," said Matt. "I think I saw a Shop Right a couple miles down the road." "Let's do it," I said. And behold! There it was...Shop Right, the trusty store that I grew up buying groceries at in NJ, but had seen few of in PA. We made for the entrance and knew it must be victory...and standing there at the entrance was, you guessed it, "83 cents." He peers through the cold, likely poised to spring his pitch and then he sees a familiar sight, in my accusatory gaze. Instead of the sheepish eyes and desperate plead for an odd-enough sum of money to prompt someone to round up, he looked at me, busted, and said, "hey, mannnn." As if to convey, "yeah, I scammed you, and now I'm doing the same thing to these suckers."

I wish I could say that I broke the man down shotgun style, or at least given him a verbal thrashing. But the reality was, I had a mission to complete, family and friends to rejoin, and integrity to mete out. The 'consistency of my actions' would not be in question on this day. I left this imitation bum, who was content to sell his integrity down the river $.83 at a time, out in the stinkin cold! And if he's still there, I won't lose sleep.

Band of Brothers...and Sisters! THAT is MOTIVATION!

2011-04-01T12:28:00.000-04:00

I'm forever talking about the connection among DDIP'ers and this clip is an illustration of the itch I'm trying to scratch in that regard. Being there for another human being, under any circumstances, is a truly special thing! Especially when the chips are down..."it's about the men next to you."

Great work during MOTIVATION WEEK, comrades. Though the theme changes next week to EDUCATION, we remain highly motivated hereafter!

DRILLSPEAK BLOG: A Spark to Your Motivational Flame!

2011-03-30T20:10:00.000-04:00

DRILLSPEAK BLOG: A Spark to Your Motivational Flame!: "Have you ever tried to start a campfire the old fashioned way, via the bow method or a similar caveman approach? It ain't easy, my friends...."

A Spark to Your Motivational Flame!

2011-03-30T20:06:00.000-04:00

Have you ever tried to start a campfire the old fashioned way, via the bow method or a similar caveman approach? It ain't easy, my friends. In fact, there have been many occasions on which I have been out in the woods attempting to start a fire with the aid of an aim-n-flame and stinkin combustibles (kerosine, gasoline, et al) where the conditions simply did not permit. Perhaps there was a wind blowing or the wood was too damn wet - whatever the case, if I genuinely needed to start a fire for survival purposes on those occasions, I likely would have perished, or at least needed a good spooning. Now imagine our ancestors, long ago, actually discovering fire and subsequently, all it's useful applications. How incredible that must have been...how fire changed their lives in so many ways.

After watching the above video, it is easy to see the difficulties involved and the mere patience that is requisite, in order to start a fire. First, you need the correct tools, the wood must be dry, you must be able to apply proper technque to create sufficient friction, and then, once you have a tiny cinder, you need a decent "bird's nest" to nestle it in - fuel for the fire. Check out 1:30ish into the video, when the dude has the nest in his hands and he's blowing carefully on it to bring the flame to life - AMAZING! Finally, once you get the fire going, you had better feed that sucker, or else it's going out!

I say that the process of starting a fire and keeping it alive is a metaphor for our work in DDIP, and really -for our very lives. The latter is beyond the scope of this blog, but suffice it to say the object of the game is to keep the home fires burning, YES, YES? Regarding DDIP, consider that when a new recruit enters this process, they are building that fire...they're trying, often in vain at first, to produce the raw materials and get the friction going. Through hard work and the support of our group, a spark can often be generated, sufficient to catch fire. But the flames must be stoked, my friends...and each successive training day is what keeps it burning. We can never quit!

With the weather forecast for Friday being potentially a couple inches of nastiness, some of you may already be tempted to revisit the snow days fo several months back and hunker down under the covers, but let me tell you, my friend, those covers smother what could be your inferno! THUNDER, LIGHTNING, DRIZZLING RAIN, NOTHING BUT PT INSIDE MY BRAIN! Decide now, that come Friday DDIP, you are gonna be a stinkin BONFIRE! May your flames lick the sky and evaporate that precipitation back from whence it came.

An Off-Color Story on Motivation: "Crumble the Booger"

2011-03-28T08:25:00.001-04:00

The phrase "crumble the booger" is frequently used in our ranks but I fear that as the course grows and new participants cycle into DDIP there are many who lack perspective on the origin of the term. Hence, a case is made for once again telling the tale, so here goes...

It is worth mentioning that the majority of the stories I tell have to do with my experiences in the USMC, a mere four-year period, stretching between 1993-1997. Though I many have stories to my credit outside this window, my time served was just action-packed, as I was thrust into the dramatic process of USMC recruit training, followed by MOS (job)-specific training, and finally the meat-and-potatoes of my time-in-service, serving as a rifleman in 1st Battalion, 6th Marines - the Fleet Marine Force. Though the entirety of my service was in peacetime, the training was grueling and often downright painful, there were many sacrifices, and sometimes we hated it. However, looking back, it was a very special time in my life. We called ourselves grunt, devildog, leatherneck, ground-pounder - officially, though in casual interaction we went by our last names, or your choice of expletive.

The below story is inspired by my Platoon Sergeant, Staff Sergeant Thomas Foresman, AKA Foresman, H.E. Foresman, "Rookie" or just Tom, if you knew him on that level. My business with the man was conducted on a professional basis, as I was the first squad leader in his platoon...I called him SSgt. Foresman. I'm disclosing his identity because, well, I don't think he would mind me telling this account, as it's very complimentary in a way, and I believe he would approve of it's use as an enabling/learning objective. And talk about story-telling, no person I have ever met is better than Tom Foresman at it; they're the kind of stories that make you roll with laughter, caring not if the story was truthful - they were that good. A captivating, hilarious story was always welcome when laying back on your ruck, waiting for the trucks to pick you up from some training area in the middle of nowhere; it passed the time.

Twenty Nine Palms, California - 1996

29 Palms or "29 Stumps" as we often referred to it, as there is really no vegetation, is a vast Marine Corps Base in the Mojave Desert. We would head out west to train there perhaps every couple years, conducting what is called a Combined Arms Exercise (CAX). Essentially, the open terrain is similar to a lot of the "hot spots" in the world right now, so CAX permits practical and coordinated, live-fire training that allows Marines to "train how they're gonna fight." Simultaneously during CAX, jets are dropping bombs, while artillery is dialed-in, and ground forces are launching their missions.

For me, Twentynine Palms was cool for the first hour or so and then the novelty wore off. During the day, it was sweltering and at night, comparatively freezing. Our equipment was always heavy, with flak jacket, Kevlar (helmet), gas mask, and a full-combat load (lots of ammo) for the live missions. 1/6 Charlie Company was the Amtrak contingent, meaning that we would move from place-to-place in a tracked, amphibious tank. We were jammed in these things like livestock, with all the aforementioned gear...driving around for hours on end and then the back of the vehicle would drop down and we'd have to rush out and conduct whatever attack was ordered. The CAX revolution would last, I dunno, two to three weeks and then we'd head back east to Camp Lejeune. When at CAX they hit us with as much training as possible so any reprieve from the heat and arduous work was welcome. Typically, this would come at the end of the day, where having trained on a particular range all day long, we would perhaps be granted a trip back to the "rear" where we would be afforded hot chow and the shelter of our corrugated steel A-frames.

On this particular day, we had run up and down this hill for hours on end, conducting attacks and being subject to the periodic barrage of tear gas and the scrutiny of the "coyotes," Marines who's job it was to grade us on our performance - "was the mission accomplished?" And the jury was in: we sucked for the most part. This seemed more part of the process than anything, I mean, sure we might have sucked for the first dozen times we ran up that hill, but you'll get good at anything with a little repetition.

Now it was dusk, and we were waiting impatiently on the trucks, who we were convinced, "took their sweet-ass time." Marines would lay back on their packs, some smoking or dipping. We would talk of home...about our girlfriends and families...how long we had left in the Corps etc. And SSgt. Foresman would tell his stories. All stories would inevitably start with, "Hey OB, check this out. True story - no shit!"

On this particular occasion, Rookie was telling the tale of "Mrs. Baltimore, Maryland," or was it a story about the fight that he got into with the Aussies that one time? There are so many stories that Foresman would tell, but Crumble the Booger is not about the details of the tale, but more how he would tell it. Tom got into the story, and Marines would hear him start up with his trademark line, mentioned above, stop what they were doing and meander over to listen in and see it told. You see, Foresman would attack that story with the very same ferocity with which he assaulted the hillside: "so check it out, OB, true story, NO SHIT. I was home on leave right, and..." While telling this story, he stuck his thumb and forefinger deep into one rather sizable nostril and pulled out a crusty, Mojave Desert-dehydrated and gunpowder-laden booger. He then proceeded to tell his story flawlessly, while crumbling the booger and watching it fall to the ground. He was a focused story-teller and often one of the most crude individuals you could ever meet, but he was switched on all the time. I always admired how very focused he could be under duress, mixing rigorous training and the elements beating down with comedy and story-telling. In the thick of it, I always felt that he would be the right guy to have by your side in combat; the type of Marine that would likely keep a unit intact in combat, as well as its spirits high, bolstered by his crude and humorous stories, in the toughest of times.

My point? You gotta stay focused and keep a light heart. Whistle while you work, regardless the task, or if you prefer, Crumble the Booger!

MOTA MOTA GOTTA LOTTA MOTIVATION!

2011-03-27T21:43:00.000-04:00

The Motivating Factor

To accomplish any mission in life, one must tap into the motivating factor...the why of your doing something. The "MF’er" can be the prize at the end of the task, IE your goal, or it can merely be something that keeps you going when times get tough, such as family, comrades, unit pride…even a previous accolade. All of us lose our motivation from time to time…we become depressed, lackadaisical and complacent. During these periods, it is crucial that we do whatever possible to retrieve our spirits immediately, or the task at hand - the mission if you will, is not achieved. Oftentimes, a “fake it till you make it” approach is requisite, whereby regardless of your mood or relative apathy you forge onward, and are always glad you did. I term this method, "crumbling the booger (story forthcoming)." Though it will not come easy at first, with discipline and a little practice, false motivation may be readily transferred into the real stinkin' deal.

Ask yourself, "What is my Motivating Factor?" When you've identified it and crumbled the booger enough times in this crazy life, paddling against the current, you will have earned the honorary title, MotivatOR! As in, "man...she's a stinkin' MOTIVATOR!" People will notice your genuine enthusiasm and will be inspired, in turn, to find their MF'er.

Pay-it-forward!

Discipline In Our Ranks

2011-03-24T00:03:00.001-04:00

Have you ever really been "a part of the team?" Back in your school days, do you recall what it meant to be a varsity player on a sports team or part of the student government? Today, do you consider yourself to be part of a unified workforce or service organization, with each individual being a cog in the proverbial wheel of a well-oiled machine? It has been my continual observation that if a person ever functioned as part of a cohesive team in their entire life, it has been too long since.

New PT for Discipline Week

2011-03-22T22:00:00.000-04:00

Check out this Conan the Barbarian clip to fully appreciate the proper technique for the DDIP exercise, "The Conan." After the object (rock, weight plate, med ball) is circled closely around the head, it is thrust outward powerfully, as can be seen throughout this clip. During this thrust, the exerciser must fully commit, in the process, bringing both elbows to a semi-locked position. Then return the object the way it went out, circling back around the head and thrusting the other way. Feel free to yell in the same manner as Conan, "AYYYE AYYYE" during the execution of this manuever.

New Physical Training unearthed this evening with the Night Pirates:

Knee Slap, Ankle Tap, Butt-cheek Clap Squat

Execute a quarter squat and slap the your distal (end of your) thigh - "1"
Bend deeper and tap the outside of your ankle - "2"
Rise up, squeezing your glutes and clapping them for good measure - "3"
Say "One"

2. The Marionette

R knee on deck, L foot planted (as in a kneeling hip flexor stretch)
Energize your thighs and pivoting on the balls of your feet, reverse your position 180 degrees
Cadence is standard four-count "1-2-3-1"
Video clip coming soon on this...it's a bit advanced

3. Ass-Blast Wall Walker

Lying on your back, feet flat on adjacent wall, butt 12-18 inches from the wall (a 90 degree bend in your knees will dictate this distance).
Perform a glute bridge using the wall (and gravity) as your resistance
Cadence is standard four-count
After a good set of these, fully contract your glutes, so that the only part of your body that remains on the ground will be your shoulders. Maintain that contraction while stepping your L foot down, then your R and then back up with each again in turn.

A Story on Discipline: The "Ground Shitter"

2011-03-21T08:10:00.000-04:00

Early on in my Marine Corps training, we learned the basics on field etiquette: how to maintain and fire your weapon, how to land navigate, how to cook your Meal, Ready to Eat (MRE), how to patrol the woods in a stealthy manner, leaving no traces for the enemy to discover, as you move from place to place. This last point is the subject of our story on discipline, as where a unit lacks sufficient discipline in policing up their area-of-operations, intel can be gathered by the enemy and ultimately this can lead to your demise.

Shoalwater Bay Training Area, Queensland Australia - 1997

We were conducting live-fire attacks on a hilltop objective, in order to hone our squad and platoon-level techniques. This was peace-time, mind you, but the danger level was still extreme, as we were using real bullets, it was hot as hell and we were dog-tired. The Company Commander was not happy with our performance, so we did the attack again and again, until which time we got it right, which we never did. Then, at dusk, we policed up all our brass, wearily trudging up the hill with our helmets full of 5.56 casings, shooting the shit and rousing one another all the time.

Satisfied with having worked us sufficiently to death, that evening the C.O. made us non-tactical, no more war games...all we were charged with was to post a watch (each man an hour throughout the night) to ensure the Company area was secure. PFC Bnotz (USMC-speak, for the lay-Marine) had fire watch at midnight, and by that time, the entirety of Charlie Company was fast asleep in their hooches (tents). Bnotz put in a fat dip of Copenhagen and sat on a box of MRE's, rifle in hand. It was a warm night, a gentle wind coming across the countryside. Firewatch sucked..."why do they always put me on at midnight...why even bother hit the rack if I got to wake up in a couple hours? Can't wait to get home to Suzy...thirty days and a wake up, man, then I'm on two weeks of block leave. Shit...they'll be lucky if I come back from that!"

The nicotine and other horrific chemicals in the Copenhagen got to stimulating PFC Bnotz' bowels..."man, gotta take a hearty dump now, but I ain't going in that straddle trench...THAT'S ABOUT NASTY!" (a straddle trench is 6" long, 1" wide and 1-2" deep...think about it). So Bnotz decided that he was going to go off into the bush where he could find some privacy. Without getting into the details, as I wasn't present, he wearily trudged off into the woods, leaned his weapon against a tree, did his business and came back to the Company area -WITHOUT HIS WEAPON!

0330: "OK, Charlie Company...wake the (expletive) up! PFC Bnotz has decided to go out into the bush, abandoning his post, took a dump and left his weapon out there. Who's his Squad Leader? Sgt. Oberst, huh...you'll pay me later, Marine. GET ON LINE! " We proceeded to get shoulder to shoulder, in the same way we had earlier that day, picking up our brass. Only now, we were looking for Bnotz's dump, as next to it should be his weapon. You see, Bnotz was what we termed a "ground shitter"...a lazy, undisciplined Marine who does his business on the ground's surface, instead of following proper procedures and digging a "cat hole": 1" X 1" X 1". This is a cardinal sin, but still a far cry from losing one's weapon, which was the equivalent of certain death. On top of all of this, Bnotz had also given away the security of our perimeter and dealt the rest of the unit a premature wake up and corresponding hard time. Bnotz didn't get much respect after he positively identified his dump and the adjacent weapon - because his discipline was out. Everyone paid for that, but in time of war, everyone might have died for that.

So each time you decide to sleep in without a valid excuse, give up or get nasty, know that I consider you a ground-shitter.

We all know what the right thing to do is. The difference between a disciplined person and a non-hacker is that the former does that thing and the latter can't be counted on. Look at the below definition of DISCIPLINE, our week two theme. It's important to note that the same people who glance at the weather forecast and skip Monday's workout - these folks are often repeat offenders, who behave this way not only in DDIP, but in the rest of their life. Life is a balance and none of us are perfect, but on each morning that we wake, we have a fresh opportunity to do the right thing...discipline gets us there. Show up and do the work and you will see results in DDIP, and in life.

Week Two - Discipline Week

2011-03-12T14:38:00.003-05:00

Week 2 - Discipline Week

“SHOW UP AND DO THE WORK”

Discipline defined:

Definition: ¹dis·ci·pline

Pronunciation: \ˈdi-sə-plən\

Function: noun

Etymology: Middle English, from Anglo-French & Latin; Anglo-French, from Latin disciplina teaching, learning, from discipulus pupil

Date: 13th century

1 : punishment
2 obsolete : instruction
3 : a field of study
4 : training that corrects, molds, or perfects the mental faculties or moral character
5 a : control gained by enforcing obedience or order b : orderly or prescribed conduct or pattern of behavior c : self-control
6 : a rule or system of rules governing conduct or activity

Discipline quote:
"Discipline is the instant willingness and obedience to all orders, respect for authority, self reliance and teamwork. The ability to do the right thing even when no one is watching or suffer the consequences of guilt which produces pain in our bodies, through pain comes discipline." --United States Marine Corps

Week One - "The Indoc"

2011-03-12T14:36:00.001-05:00

Look up the term "indoctrinate" in the dictionary and what you read may frighten you! The traditional definitions describe it as, "to instruct in a doctrine, principle, ideology, etc., especially to imbue with a specific partisan or biased belief or point of view." Essentially, to drive something down your throat. While the mission of DDIP is to discipline, motivate, educate and exercise the public to an optimum state-of-health, and we will accomplish this at all costs, we prefer to merely engage the participant in healthy living the DDIP way and it's usually an easy sell - so there is no need to brainwash you. It's hard to argue with results gleaned by your own merit, facilitated by DDIP.

There are two other definitions that may add perspective to the DDIP, Week 1 theme:

Military indoctrination, (as in recruit training): The initial psychological preparation of soldiers during training.

It is important to note that the roots of DDIP are in my experiences in the Marine Corps. The USMC is reknowned for it ablity to produce warriors, through the boot camp experience and mentoring conducted up its ranks. Though DDIP is a civilian pursuit, the Marine Corps Leadership Traits http://www.au.af.mil/au/awc/awcgate/usmc/leadership_traits.htm and in fact, most USMC teachings are applicable to civilain life. All warriors pray for peace, but there are different types of enemies out there; for the purposes of DDIP, our foe is disease of the body and mind.

Information security: In the field of information security, indoctrination is the initial briefing and instructions given before a person is granted access to secret information.

Knowledge is POWER, my friends...it is important to understand what you're in for when joining DDIP. For new recruits, there is a very real learning curve, as some of the exercises and commands require you to both think and act, simultaneously. Before long, it will all be muscle-memory. As to veteran participants, it is also important that they re-focus leading up to the next session, so as to avoid becoming stale. Each successive session is a notch in your belt...a new height climbed on the ladder of results.

The bottom line in that with each session, we have many returning veterans and an increasing number of new recruits. Given the shear masses and the diversity within the DDIP formation, it is imperative that we find that common rhythm within our ranks. Everyone has a place at the table, regardless of age, gender, physical prowess or other demographical variable...we all work together, to achieve our personal goals and to facilitate that of our comrades.

DDIP is about YOU and ME! Fill your sails during Indoc Week and stay the course to your goals. The tempo ramps up significantly from here.