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When I was 18 years old, I signed up to join the Marines. The recruiter told me that there were height and weight standards. On the day I took the preliminary physical exam, I was pleased to learn that I didn’t have to worry at all about being too short, too tall, 5’9”, or too heavy, but I hit the scales at the exact minimum weight allowed for my height: a blazing amazing 114 pounds. I had a few weeks ahead of me before shipping off to boot camp, and there would be another physical exam.
The recruiter told me that if I lost even one pound, I would be denied. He had a solution, however. On the day in question, he picked me up at about 5:30 am. He had an entire bunch of bananas and a large bottle of milk. “Start eatin’!” he commanded me, “it’s about a 40-minute ride, and you’d better down each one of those bananas and drink every drop of that milk! And another thing, until you weigh in, you don’t go anywhere near any bathroom!” I dutifully choked down every banana, washed down with milk. He would have had me eat the peels too, just to be on the safe side. He wasn’t going to accompany me inside the building, so I was on my own from that point.
When I went inside, there were approximately 200 young men and women milling around in a large auditorium-like hall. Each branch of the service, Army, Air Force, Navy, Coast Guard, and the United States Marine Corps, would first process its enlistees separately before turning us over to the medical people. My physical wouldn’t take place for at least two or three hours. I carried around a heavy bellyful of potassium and calcium for the whole morning.
When I finally stepped on the scale, my weight was 114.5 pounds. I was in!
(I’m now 5’9” and 175 pounds.)
~
The most I’ve ever weighed in adulthood was about 190 pounds.
~
(weigh less than me I do.)
(everyday)
You know full well that I like Martina much more than I like you: she has never kidnapped my entire tilde collection and spirited them off to some lousy, cramped, dark, dank, filthy hideaway on the side of a Colorado mountain, unlike someone else has. Their emotional scars may never heal. You’re a bad, bad woman.
:[
From Martina’s post above:
“This is my highest weight as an adult. When I was 18, I weighed 53 kg (116,8 lbs).”
What did she write incorrectly? She’s your own cousin! How could you do this to her?
Hmmm, hiking filing a false police report, eh? Your crime spree knows no bounds, does it, you habitual offender?
~
Your Honor, defense counsel’s premise lacks legal foundation and is not supported by case law, cites absolutely no precedent. This flimsy argument that kilograms differ from pounds in relation to what they measure or do not measure is ridiculous. Neither a kilogram nor a pound perform the act of measuring anything. On the other hand, and to counter the argument, both kilograms and pounds can be weighed, both have weight. Your Honor, the Prosecution moves to have the Defense’s entire platform tossed out of court and the citations upheld on principle!
~
I told you there was a better way, that all you had to do was join me on the fitness trail, but did you listen? NOOOOOOOO.
;(
Jaimie 