#mogmile

[armymedic1074]

#fobhilton is getting ready for the #westpoint #mogmile . #goruck #ruckclub #ruckup #ruckyourcolors #usarmy #rltw #firfam #operationgothicserpent #grt #tls (at West Point - The U.S. Military Academy) https://www.instagram.com/p/Bngl76wF5a2e-OMZcNRSdyNOQ5pcU1BopLKlOo0/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1q7a27gcv5xn3

[spybroken]

GoRuck Light: Mog Mile (October 3, 2015)

Behold my experience with the GoRuck Light Challenge - specifically the Mog Mile event in NYC on October 3, 2015.  Starting point: McCarren Park, Brooklyn. Photo credit for first two images: Atul P.

0900:  Wake up in cold sweat after a GoRuck-induced nightmare. Make and eat breakfast.  Lollygag.

1035:  Have a final cry. Head to 6 train and pray that the transfer to L train is bearable at Union Square.

1110:  Emerge at Bedford Street.  Half hour to kill?  Into Starbucks for a banana and really, a panicky restroom break.

1130:  Walk to McCarren Park.  I see a gaggle of ruck-carrying people and the oh-so-recognizable reflective tapes bouncing in the sunlight.  Immediately, warm welcomes as I walked to the circle.  My friend Christine, who lives nearby in Williamsburg, also trekked through the cold drizzle to say hello and to offer motivational hugs.

1200 and beyond; no sense of time after this mark:  Unsurprisingly, Cadre Larry orders the group to fall in right at 1200 hours.  We line up in 3 ranks, with the veteran GoRuck-ers exasperatingly directing and shuffling the newbies (i.e. moi) to hustle correctly into place.  Cadre briefly introduces himself - Special Forces (no big deal) with endless tours around the grueling world (no big deal) and reminding us that today's special Mog Mile event would commemorate the men of Task Force Ranger on October 4th, 1993 in Mogadishu. The story is also covered in the book and film Black Hawk Down.

Cadre asked for anyone under 21; we had a couple of 21-ers and one was immediately appointed as the first Team Leader (TL) and was brought to the front - bless his brave heart.  Ruck inspection (did ya bring your bricks/weights, water bladder, reflective tape, bandana, and ID?) is then followed by a "HI WELCOME TO GORUCK" PT session of 8-count body builders, flutter kicks, sit-ups and V-ups with rucks overhead, squats.  Cadre reviews the background of Operation Gothic Serpant, and notifies us that we'd be simulating their movements moving forward.

Our TL and Assistant Team Leader (ATL) briefly meet with Cadre to discuss Movement 1 (Of how many? Depended on how much we did or did not f*** up after this point).  TL and ATL inform us to line up tightly in 2 ranks to begin our movement, keeping in mind the group has to switch turns carrying our team weights - a billion pound sandbag (all right, maybe 100#), a smaller but still hefty weighted bag, and a 26# steel plate cut from the elevator shafts used to build the Freedom Tower.  And of course, the American flag.

We briskly walk. And briskly walk. And turn. And turn. And about face. And about face. And grunt. The veterans were not amused. The newbies were ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ And we reach our destination, obviously very behind schedule, at a little park somewhere in Brooklyn.  Cadre Larry is amused.  He gives us a "special number" - 160, which signifies the number within the Task Force Ranger unit.  TL and ATL must choose: do they pick 160 for us, or do they pick 25 reps of SOMETHING for each minute we were late?  I scream ONE SIXTY.  They pick 160.  Praise the lord, as we were TWENTY-FIVE MINUTES LATE. We line up in one rank for 160 lunges.  A few knees essentially crumbled at around 50, so Cadre took pity and we finish the reminder of reps with (just as awful) flutter kicks - (1, 2, 3, 4, is one rep).  The small children playing basketball laughed and pointed hysterically at these dum dums gasping in the grass.

Our recovery is Cadre explaining the "black comedy" of confusion that ground forces experienced, as they attempted to navigate their humvees through Mogadishu.  Once directions were passed from air support down to the ground, they'd already missed the necessary turn.  "Get out your bandanas and cover your eyes."  Oh my god.

Two ranks, one hand on the ruck of the person in front.  Onto Movement 2.  For the next fifteen minutes, it was blind chaos.  As the front moved, the middle and end were stretched accordian-style. "SLOW DOWN UP THERE, MOTHERF******" every ten seconds. I walk into a pole with my left cheek.  Unclear how far we actually moved across Brooklyn to the destination, but once we arrived, behold!  Jacob's Ladder park.  And this park has a suspicious-looking hill.

Cadre reiterates the ground convoy's confusion, and we furiously nod in agreement.  No amount of nodding could put off what we knew was coming:  PT time!  Two ranks at the bottom of the hill.  Rank one, followed by rank 2:  Sprint up.  Crab walk down. Jumping jack up. Jumping jack down. Wheelbarrow with a buddy up. Sprint down. Wheelbarrow up. Jumping jack down.  I'm missing some.  We were GASSED.  Onto Movement 3.  New TL and ATL were chosen.

We continue along a highway, with some heartwarming car horns and "GO RUCK!" cries from the few folks who weren't confused at the gaggle of frazzled, rucked-up, flag-bearing group shuffling on the sidewalk.  We chant.  "When I say Go, you say Ruck!"  "When I say Good, you say Livin'!" "When I say Drink, you say Beer!"

Pee time for the lucky males.  TL found a road-less-traveled bushy fenced street, and those needing to relieve themselves did their thing.  The rest of us line up tightly to obscure the view, though NOTHING COULD OBSCURE THE ODOR *guffaw*  Cadre offers that any of the ladies desperately needing a wee would be obscured with a tight-knit, back-facing circle for protection.  I appreciated the gesture BUT I'LL HOLD IT.  Continuing with Movement 3.

We continue to trek until we're one mile out from the final destination.  This was the Mog Mile.

Starting with one casualty (read: team must to carry one person), each block or so would incur additional casualties.  The slower we progressed with the mile, the more casualties would pile up.  Consensus:  "HUSTLE."  This is where being a small person = lucky duck.  I was casualty number 4.  To note, the jarring pains of being fireman-carried is obviously zero point zero zero compared to the task of CARRYING A PERSON.  Between four tenacious guys - Carlos, Eric, Tony, and John, I traveled the final mile on their backs, switching carries every few blocks.  Their strength and determination to not drop me on my face was extraordinary.

1700-ish:  We plod back into McCarren Park.  Flag still flying high.  Cadre Larry congratulates us on our 7 miles of ruckin.  He digs out our Mog Mile patches, which are soaking wet as he led the previous night's Mog Mile Tough through a Hurricane Joaquin-induced downpour.  Many out of the group also participated in that event, operating on two hours of sleep into today's Mog Mile Light. I can't even.  They recieved their second Mog Mile patch of the weekend.  I marveled at my first.  Group photo.

1720:  It didn't downpour today as anticipated, and we were saved from water immersion and sand.  This particular event was the perfect level of suckiness to dip my toes into GoRuck. It really was a team event of "Good Livin'" and we certainly did "Embrace the Suck" together.  Thank you Cadre Larry, teammates, and GoRuck for an unforgettable day.  Onto the sad trek home. When's the next one?

Edit: The addiction is real. Currently signed up for the Veteran’s Day Light Challenge on November 14, 2015.