Sergeant Tony's Blog

Archive for May, 2009

32 or 48? — Newsletter for 5/27/09

May. 27th 2009

It was about 2 AM when the bus came to an eery stop.

I heard the air brakes make that sound that says “done, all done.” I felt the vibration of the engine stop. It was all quiet.

We had crossed a small bridge about 10 minutes earlier. The tinted windows offered nothing to see in the blackness. We could have been in Times Square or in the middle of Kansas. We were in neither.

We were on a small island off the coast of South Carolina.

We were on Parris Island.

There had been chattering and joking among us on the crowded bus as we’d made our way through the darkness of a South Carolina night. But that had all died down and quickly stopped after we crossed that bridge. Like Alfred Lord Tennyson’s “Crossing the Bar.”

No one was saying anything anymore. The concern that I’d had hours ago when I’d landed in Charleston, had steadily grown into fear that I could feel in the pit of my stomach. I saw the same thing on the faces of the other guys on the bus. I wondered if they saw the same thing when they looked at my face.

There would be no time for group discussion or personal reflection. Hell was about to be unleashed.

The bus doors opened and suddenly Drill Instructor Sergeant Hayes appeared and no one made a sound or a move. I had never seen anything like this kind of man in my life. The famous Campaign Cover on his head, tilted down and forward so that just the top edge of his eyes were barely visible. His khaki shirt, pressed and perfectly tucked into his olive drab trousers, were adorned by ribbons and stripes on his sleeves indicated that he was a Sergeant of Marines. The edges and creases of his uniform were so sharp you could have cut yourself on them.

You could feel everyone holding their breath. I held mine too.

And then he opened his mouth.

In less time than it has taken me to write this sentence, he yelled, with a tone of voice I’d never heard before, the kind that comes from the depths of the underworld and only becomes more menacing as it fills your ears. Shocking and completely unbelievable. Within the 30 or so seconds he yelled, I heard every foul word I’d ever known — and learned a few new ones — come out of his mouth and somewhere within all of that he told us that we were not worthy to be on “his” island and that we were to get off “his” bus and get our “scummy-worthless-civilian-puke-feet on ‘his’ yellow footprints.”

Then he looked at us with a look that says doom and said, “DO IT!”

Then chaos.

All of us trying to get off “his” bus at once, everyone throwing themselves forward in an effort to comply, only making matters worse, creating an intended bottleneck at the front.

What awaited me, and the other 80 members of the platoon we would become, as we got off the bus were the things of nightmares and your worst fears come true. The thick humid air was full of sand fleas and the sound of the yelling of other demonic Drill Instructors, probably 15 in all, as we came flying off the bus, trying to locate those yellow footprints painted on “his” deck.

Let me tell you about those 15 Drill Instructors. They all looked just like Sergeant Hayes and they all sounded just like Sergeant Hayes. And they were ALL, every last one of them, FULL of anger and hatred for everyone of us. As if we had just spat on something sacred.

At one point there were four Drill Instructors on me like pit bulls! One in front of my face. One for each one of my ears. And one directly behind me. The three, inches from my face, were each yelling the foulest and most humiliating things I’d ever known could be said to and about another human being. The level of contempt that they had for me is beyond my ability to describe it. No one has ever hated me with such fury.

And what of the Drill Instructor behind me? While this was going on in front of me, he was hitting me on the back of my head with a swagger stick, a sort of leather riding crop with brass coverings at each end. As the sand fleas feasted on my exposed flesh.

I could not move or flinch while all of this was going on. All the while standing at the POA, the position of attention … which, I was told, was unfit. I was told that I stood like a coward and that I was completely pathetic … that I wasn’t worthy to even imagine the title of “Marine” much less ever say “Marine” aloud. The sewer that was my mouth was filthy and unfit to ever say the word “Marine,” I was loudly informed.

And all of this by 2:15 AM.

What were the next few minutes to bring? What was the next hour to bring. What were the next three months going to bring? My mind could not fathom it.

There were 80 of us who, that night became known as Platoon 398, India Company, Third Recruit Training Battalion, Recruit Training Regiment, Marine Corps Recruit Depot, Parris Island, South Carolina.

For short, we were simply Platoon 398.

Over the next three months, the 80 members of Platoon 398 became just 32.

Only 32 of the original 80 graduated. Only 32 became Marines.

What had happened to the other 48?

I couldn’t say for sure. Some were sent home. Some were injured during training and were sent to the hospital. Some were “recycled” into platoons behind us in training because they weren’t cutting it, yet showed some promise and were being given a second chance.

So proud were we to be among that 32 that some said they’d get the number tattooed on their arms. So proud I was when, three months later — months that were much like those first 15 minutes — on graduation day, my Drill Instructors, including Sergeant Hayes, shook my hand and said, “Congratulations Marine.”

It was the first time I was called “Marine” … and my eyes filled with tears and my heart with pride and joy.

My son Matthew is a Marine. And now my youngest son, Nathan, has announced that he is joining The Corps too.

Nathan and I spent a lot of time together recently driving to Quantico, VA. I told him that I envied him. That I wished that I was on that bus again … crossing that bridge … about to start that odyssey all over again.

He looked at me like he was sure that I was lying or being sarcastic.

I was neither.

That experience has more to do with the man I am today than anything I’ve ever experienced. The experience of a lifetime awaits him and I envy it!

What made the difference in the 32 of us who graduated and became Marines, and the 48 who didn’t. A lot of things, for sure. But without exception, determination and persistence. “I will NOT quit! I will NOT fail!”

Your goals probably aren’t exactly the same as mine were when the bus that carried me to Parris Island came to a stop that night. But achieving your own personal goals will require the exact same thing! The EXACT SAME THING!

Determination and persistence!

I see people quit and give up all the time. Sad. Sad. Sad. “Tony, it’s too hard. Tony, it’s too early. Tony, it’s too hot. Tony, it’s too cold. Tony, it’s too dark … ”

For them, it’s always too something … There is no shortage of excuses or reasons to give up … and no shortage of people to blame for their failures. Giving up is easy. Quitting is simple.

But I see people succeed and achieve all the time too! Great! Outstanding! Awesome!

For them, it’s always possible … There is no shortage of reasons to keep on keeping on, to not give up, to not give in, to not yield, to not quit. Sure it’s hard. But are we ever proud of that which came easy, that cost us nothing?

If you have set a course for fitness, health, and weight loss … don’t quit! Don’t quit!

Whatever your goal is …

Don’t quit.

Please … don’t quit. You can do this! Do not yield. It will literally change your life! Give no audience to the voice in your head that is telling you to quit and take your ease. Success is closer than you think. Take it one day at a time. You can do this, I promise you!

It’s the difference between 32 and 48.

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MOUNT FUJI TOMORROW

The 0530 class will meet at the parking garage on Zach Curlin (Mt. Fuji) on the campus of the U of M. No 0530 class at Christ Methodist.

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0645 AND 0830 CLASS NEWS!

The 0645 class is up and runnin’!! This is a Monday, Wednesday, Friday class and will follow the same routine as the 0830 class!

The 0830 class will go on hiatus for the summer at the end of this month. This Friday, May 29 will be the last class until the end of the summer

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SUMMER SCHOOL SPECIAL

Have a student who’d like to join USMC Fitness BOOT CAMP for the summer? Special discounted program for summer student recruits! Email me for details!

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ZOOM THROUGH THE ZOO

Congratulations to the following Boot Campers who ran the Zoom Through the Zoo 4 Miler last Thursday evening!

Mike Barta
Scot Bearup
Sarah Bowen
David Caffey
Margaret Caffey
Amy Cone
Anne Emmerth
Anna Haug
Angela Haug
Kay Ryan
Holly Spraker
John Winford

Way to go everyone! I hope I didn’t forget anyone. If you ran it and I inadvertently left your name off the list, it’s because I don’t like you and I just want to taunt and torment you! OK, seriously, I apologize. Let me know.

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Determination and persistence!

To your continued good health and fitness,

Tony

Sergeant Major Tony Ludlow
USMC Fitness BOOT CAMP, Commanding
4888 Southern Ave
Memphis, TN 38117
901-644-0145

www.usmcfitnessbootcamp.com

www.shaklee.net/tonyludlow/main

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LOVE LIES BLEEDING — Newsletter for 5/20/09

May. 20th 2009

I set a record in high school.

It still stands!

No, it’s not “most number of times sent to detention.”

It’s not “most number of times rejected by the homecoming queen.”

I set a swimming record in the 100 yard freestyle.

I played all the manly sports that involved a ball: football and basketball. Not baseball. That’s a game that was invented for guys who couldn’t be athletes! hahaha (No hate mail from you baseball knuckleheads. I can hear you already Jeremy, Andrew, and Robert. Calm down.)

Baseball is a spring sport. So is swimming. The swimming and diving team had girls in swimsuits. The baseball team didn’t. No-brainer.

At the end of the swimming and diving season we had a big party and barbeque at our coach’s house. It was a party / awards banquet. Each member of the team was asked to stand up and share two experiences from the season. And almost everyone of them mentioned something about ME!!! That record was awesome!

Unfortunately none of those clowns mentioned my record. Everyone of those chowderheads mentioned something else that I did that season.

This is what I was famous for.

In addition to swimming, I was also a diver. One of the guys in my neighborhood was a diver in college and he took me under his wing the summer between 7th and 8th grade. That summer I went from doing “cannonballs” and “can openers” to “inward 1 and a halfs” and “reverse double summersaults.” I wore a sweatshirt to practice in. I landed on my back and my belly a lot. Those hurt. A lot.

Fast forward to the State Swimming and Diving Meet my senior year. I’m in the finals of the state diving competition. In fact, as we join the story, our hero (Tony Ludlow), is actually in SECOND PLACE … with only one more dive to go! The guy in first place was untouchable. None of us could catch him. Second place was going to be GREAT! My previous dives had gone really well and I’d practiced this last dive several times that morning. It was a reverse 2 1/2 summersault, degree of difficulty: 3.4.

And there I was. Standing on the board, preparing my thoughts and getting myself ready … when suddenly … I became aware of everyone waiting on me to dive. There were about a thousand people there. My girlfriend. My friends and family. The other teams. Their friends and family. Coaches. Officials. Crazy Kyle with the artificial leg and lazy eye. (That’s a whole nuther story!)

And everyone was waiting on me.

And everyone was being quiet.

Waiting on me.

No one was even whispering. No one was standing up. No one was moving at all. I could feel them all leaning forward.

This crowd of people had been of no consequence to me during the whole time. I never even paid them any attention. But now … all of a sudden … there they were!

Eventually you have to dive. You just can’t stand on the board forever. Standing there like a big goober. I thought that maybe once my feet started moving forward everything would just fall into place.

It didn’t.

I continued moving toward the end of the board, jumped up into the air — just like they do on tv — came down on the end of the board just like they do on tv … and instead of taking off into the air — like they do on tv — and performing the dive … I froze on the end of the board. Boinngggggggggg. And there I was standing on the end of the board, riding it up and down … NOT DIVING.

The people sucked the air out of the place. They all collectively made that “OHHHH!!!” sound that isn’t an exhale, but an inhale.

I heard the head judge say, “BALK!” into the microphone.

“Balk”??? This ain’t no baseball game! But that’s what it’s called when a diver fails to “take off!”

What happens next? According to the rules, the diver can back up, regroup, and dive over. The thing is, he will only be awarded HALF the points he’d have gotten. So a dive that would’ve scored 50, would only be awarded 25 points.

Second place was gone.

I backed up, regrouped, and took my spot on the board again. Waited for the judge to indicate that they were ready for me to dive. I got the signal. And …

I froze.

I was 17 years old and having the worst day of my life. I could literally FEEL the people leaning in and waiting for me to dive.

I thought maybe THIS time it would work. I’ll just start my approach … go into the hurdle … come down on the board and it’ll happen. It’ll be magic!

It was a disaster.

The exact same thing happened. With me planted on the end of the board like a 5 year old afraid to jump. Again, the collective inhale of the crowd.

The judge announced, “Scratch dive.”

Then came the walk of shame. I had to walk to the other end of the board and climb down the ladder. Once I got down the ladder I had to walk the entire length of the stands where everyone was looking at me.

The place was still quiet. I was looking down at my feet the whole time, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone. I was walking toward my team’s bench and glanced up just enough to see my coach having a melt down. His face was bright red and his teeth were clinched. He threw me a towel. I caught it, put it over my head, and just kept walking … past the bench … all the way into the locker room. Where I sat for the rest of my life. Or so it seemed.

The small headline in the sports page the next day. “Local Diver Comes in Ninth in State Meet.” Do you know that they actually HAVE a ribbon for 9th place!

My name is still on the wall of my high school athletic department for the record I set, thanks to Elton John. But no one on my team remembers that record. Today I’m sure if they were asked they’d probably start making jokes about my “failure to launch!”

And how did Elton John help me set that record?

Just before I swam the 100 yard free that day, I was listening to a song of his called “Funeral for a Friend / Love Lies Bleeding.” It’s a slow moving song at first and then it builds and builds and really moves! The song is over 10 minutes long, but in the 54 seconds it took me to swim those 100 yards, I played through the whole song in my head!

I did this without a bong. Take THAT Michael Phelps!

I needed Elton when I jacked up my big day on the diving board!

What I really needed was focus.

I had no focus on the board that day. I became distracted. I thought of everything else but what was important. If I had blocked out everything else and concentrated on the main thing, I’d have taken home a trophy and a title instead of that little gay ribbon. If I had put my energies into the dive instead of the distraction, the headline would have read differently.

Stay focused. Tune out the static. Put your energies on the things that matter. Dismiss the distractions and embrace the essence of what makes your life beautiful and unique.

And then nail it!

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MOUNT FUJI TOMORROW

The 0530 class will meet at the parking garage on Zach Curlin (Mt. Fuji) on the campus of the U of M. No 0530 class at Christ Methodist.

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MEMORIAL DAY SCHEDULE

ONE workout on Monday at 0700 at Christ Methodist. All other classes are canceled that day! Come and celebrate Memorial Day with a Marine! We’ll have a brief flag pole observance prior to the start of the workout!

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0645 AND 0830 CLASS NEWS!

The 0645 class is up and runnin’!! This is a Monday, Wednesday, Friday class and will follow the same routine as the 0830 class!

The 0830 class will go on hiatus for the summer at the end of this month. Friday, May 29 will be the last class until the end of the summer

—————————————————————-

SUMMER SCHOOL SPECIAL

Have a student who’d like to join USMC Fitness BOOT CAMP for the summer? Special discounted program for summer student recruits! Email me for details!

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MEMPHIS IN MAY TRIATHLETES!

Congratulations to David Caffey, Daniel Shaffer, and Andrew Forsdick! David did the mountain bike triathlon on Saturday and Daniel and Andrew did the Olympic distance triathlon on Sunday!

You guys ROCK!!!!

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ZOOM THROUGH THE ZOO

Thursday evening’s class is canceled. Instead run the Zoom Through the Zoo 4 Miler! This is the second year for this fun race that goes through the zoo! They turn the lions lose to help you run faster!

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THANK YOU to everyone who donated their used athletic shoes to Soles4Souls. Boot campers donated 53 pairs of adult and children’s shoes! These donations will be used to help people around the world and here in our own country and state. To learn more, go to www.soles4souls.org. Thanks for helping to make a difference!

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Tomorrow … do better!

To your continued good health and fitness,

Tony

Sergeant Major Tony Ludlow
USMC Fitness BOOT CAMP, Commanding
4888 Southern Ave
Memphis, TN 38117
901-644-0145

www.usmcfitnessbootcamp.com

www.shaklee.net/tonyludlow/main

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STUPID GIRL — Newsletter for 5/13/09

May. 13th 2009

She was pretty.

Prettier than those she was with.

But I knew she was trouble from the instant I laid eyes on her.

I wanted to meet her, but there were barriers both real and social.

I went through a middle man. He arranged the meeting. I was too chicken to approach her without someone to make the introductions.

I know this is all so superficial. But I’m a man. I didn’t know anything about her dreams or her aspirations. I didn’t know anything about her background. All I knew was that she was pretty.

And I was going through a tough time and I needed some company.

I think she was going through a tough time too. (Our “matchmaker” said as much.) She looked at me in a way that kind of melted my heart. Friendly, but a little reserved. Cautious, I thought. She’d been hurt. She’d had some complicated relationships and I guess she was just feeling me out before she could decide what she thought about me. She needed time and I was prepared to give it to her.

Our relationship was difficult from the beginning, I have to admit. She was, I’m afraid to say this, not very smart. I don’t mean to be cruel. But it’s true. You don’t always know these things right away. But it didn’t take long. It was frustrating. I tried to deny it to myself for a long long time. You know how it is, you always want to think the best. But she was just stupid at times. She was irrational. And sometimes she’d be mean. She apparently didn’t have any interest in the things I wanted to do. I would suggest something to do and she would just look at me as if “I’ was the one who had said something stupid.

She would get angry or scared or something and just disappear … for days. Sometimes we’d be in the middle of something and she’d just walk off. And then later she’d act like nothing was wrong. As if she hadn’t done anything. So confusing. So frustrating.

It still is.

I’m looking at her right now in my backyard chewing on lord knows what.

When I rescued her from the pound, she was on death row. The next day she was to be “put down” as they say. I’d gone there looking for a companion because I was terribly lonely … and a little fragile. It was 2003 and we had just invaded Iraq. My son Matthew was at the “tip of the spear.”

You may recall those days when the war was on television all day and all night. Embedded reporters were giving us an almost real time reporting of the war. And I had a TV on in every room of my house, looking at the flickering images into the wee hours of the night, hoping for even the briefest glimpse of my son.

Just 2 months earlier I’d taken him to the airport to say good bye. I stood in the security line with him and gave him all of the advice I could think of. One Marine to another. A father to a son.

What do you say at a time like that? Nothing had prepared me for it. He wasn’t going off to college. He wasn’t going off to summer camp. He wasn’t taking a trip with friends to Florida. He was going off to war.

He cleared airport security and I stood there behind the velvet rope, trying to be strong and stoic. He reached down and picked up his gear on the other side of the security screening. Threw one bag over his shoulder and picked up the other one. He steadied himself under the weight … took three steps toward the gate and then turned back as he walked away, looked at me … smiled and waved.

And then he was gone.

My boy was gone from my sight, from my ability to protect him. And that might be the last time I would ever see him alive. And that realization was overwhelming.

I sat down on one of those plastic chairs in the airport and lost it.

This Friday, former Staff Sergeant, now 2nd Lieutenant, Matthew Ludlow leaves for Quantico, VA for more training. And in the backyard is that stupid dog I rescued from the pound. Her name is Aki, it’s Japanese for autumn. She doesn’t fetch. She doesn’t care if you throw the frisbee across the yard. She’s not interested in learning anything either. She’s a terrible watch dog.

And she’s joined by Matthew’s dog, Drake, whom I’ve adopted until whenever. (I hope Matthew forgets that I’ve got him. Drake is a GREAT dog!)

There’s just something about a dog.

No matter how many times Aki makes me crazy, no matter how many times she runs off because she heard it thunder, no matter how many times she acts stupid. I will always love her because she sat next to me in the middle of the night while I looked for signs on television that my boy was okay, that he was alive.

Aki is loyal.

I always said that I rescued her … but really, she rescued me.

And for that, she will always have a place in my heart.

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0645 CLASS CALLED TO DUTY!

This is a Monday, Wednesday, Friday class and will follow the same routine as the 0830 class!

—————————————————————-

SUMMER SCHOOL SPECIAL

Have a student who’d like to join USMC Fitness BOOT CAMP for the summer? Special discounted program for summer student recruits! Email me for details!

—————————————————————

THESE ECONOMIC TIMES

I try to promote and patronize Boot Campers in their businesses. I am also a member of a business networking group (BNI – Business Networking International) that meets weekly to promote one another’s businesses.

I’ll also include folks looking for a new job or career change.

If you have knowledge of an open position or job opportunity, pass it on and I’ll add it here.

Today’s Big Three are all ladies! :

1. Sherry Irwin (Boot Camper — Job Seeker) is looking for a a part time job for nights and/or weekends. I am a very fast typist (about 85 to 90 words per minute), 10-key by touch (accurate and fast), can do light bookkeeping, lots of experience in customer service, purchasing and inventory control. sherryrwn@yahoo.com

2. Ginny Craig (Boot Camper — Owner of Pageboy Salon) Is seeking stylists either for booth rental or commission. We have two stations available. virginiacraig@rocketmail.com

3. Cindy Pensoneau (Boot Camper — Attorney) I handle family law matters, including but not limited to divorce litigation and mediation, property division, alimony, reconciliation, adoption, antenuptials (pre-nuptials) and domestic partnership agreements, child support and custody matters, collaborative practice, and guardianship/conservatorships. Shea Moskovitz & McGhee since 2004. (Vanderbilt Univ. B.A., Univ. of Memphis J.D.) (901) 821-0044 cpensoneau@sheamoskovitzmcghee.com

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Mount Fuji NEXT Thursday!!

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Next week this newsletter will take on a brand new look! More details with next week’s unveiling!!

Tomorrow … do better.

To your continued good health and fitness,

Tony

Sergeant Major Tony Ludlow
USMC Fitness BOOT CAMP, Commanding
4888 Southern Ave
Memphis, TN 38117
901-644-0145

www.usmcfitnessbootcamp.com

www.shaklee.net/tonyludlow/main

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SOUL CAGES — Newsletter for 5/6/09

May. 6th 2009

I wasn’t expecting anything profound.

There are TV shows that I really like, and a few that I’ve learned to like. “Grey’s Anatomy” is one of those I learned to like.

Ordinarily this hospital melodrama wouldn’t have appealed to me. Too much “McDreamy” and “McSteamy” makes me a little “McQueasy.” But “Grey’s Anatomy” was a favorite of someone special, and I found myself pulled into the show.

While watching a recent episode, I was sitting there somewhat hypnotically, my brain sort of on cruise. I wasn’t really paying close attention. I had been a little distracted. But then something happened and I sat up in my chair and took note. One of the characters said something profound.

Just three words.

I hit the rewind button a couple of times.

Here was the scene.

The main cast of misfits and knuckleheads — those who make up the interns and residents of the show — had behaved badly and were being scolded at the end of their shift. Izzie Stevens, a member of that group of doctors, played by the lovely Katherine Heigl, had been diagnosed with cancer and was now a patient in the hospital where she and her friends worked.

The misfits — supposedly Izzie’s friends — had neglected her the whole day. She had lain in her hospital bed all day by herself. Not one of them had come to see her. Her only visitor all day had been the character played by Chandra Wilson, Chief Resident, Dr. Miranda Bailey — vertically challenged, larger than life, and quickly combustible.

When Dr. Bailey discovered that Izzie had no visits from her friends, she hunted the group down and tore into them like a pit bull. I liked the way she was heaping on the guilt, telling them what pathetic friends they’d been, how selfishly they’d behaved, how they had ignored their friend in her hour of greatest need. They had allowed their friend to lay in the bed to struggle with the anguish of her cancer — and her own mortality. Alone.

The whole group collectively hung their heads in shame for neglecting their friend, feeling the full weight of their guilt and the onslaught of Dr. Bailey’s vitriolic assault. Then she stopped yelling at them. There was a pause … followed by a hush. No one moved. She waited. When they slowly raised their heads to look at her, she said, in a calm and measured voice:

“Tomorrow … do better.”

I sat up in my chair and shook the fog out of my brain. I thought that was profound.

Seriously. Profound.

Some of you who read this like to pamper yourselves to some ridiculous extremes. You take your ease. You are quick to give yourself every excuse for your failures, lazy behavior, lapses in judgement, and shortcomings. There is no lack of slack that you are willing to dispense to yourself. Self discipline is a foreign concept. You’ve probably quit reading this already because it looked like there were too many words in this story! (Too many words, Tony … too many words!!!)

Then there are some of you who are at the other extreme.

You’re pretty hard on yourself. Always pushing. Nothing you do is ever good enough for you. You are driven. Ambitious. You seldom say no to any request. You want to please. You probably expect a lot from those around you too. You might be hard to live with! I see the image of this person sometimes in my bathroom mirror. (Sometimes I look … sometimes it’s me.)

Most people are varying degrees of each group.

Those who fit more into the second group probably have forgiveness issues. Forgiveness is a hard thing to do. It’s hard because you have a difficult time forgiving yourself and moving forward.

Those three words, “Tomorrow … do better” implies forgiveness with a plan and purpose to improve. Like a priest, Dr. Bailey had absolved them and given them penance.

Is there anything more that we can do for ourselves, for others? We ALL make mistakes. We all screw up. Saint Paul said, “the thing I want to do, I don’t do … and the thing I don’t want to do, that I do.” If HE couldn’t pull it off, what chance do we have?

We all need forgiveness. We’ve all jacked up something. Maybe it’s a failed business, or a failed attempt at education, a failed fitness plan, a failed relationship, or a failed job. We all need to forgive ourselves … and purpose to do better. The true failure would be a failure to learn from the mistakes. A failure to adapt. A failure to improvise. A failure to improve. “A failure to communicate.” A failure to do better.

Have trouble forgiving? Is it wrong to forgive everyone? Do we have to forgive?

Holding on to the offense is like a poison in your soul. (The dead accounting of old guilty promises.) And the only person made miserable by it is the holder.

Do we have to forgive every time?

In the New Testament, Jesus answered that question. He said to forgive that person 490 times (seven times seventy) … allegedly for the same offense! Allegedly on the same day. 490 times. What would Jesus do? He’d forgive.

Every major religion teaches it. Expects it.

Forgive yourself first. You’re not perfect.

Forgive others. They aren’t either.

Forgive … just as you would like to be forgiven.

And tomorrow … tomorrow … do better.

(Psssst, if getting into shape is something you’ve failed at lately, guess what … you can start again tomorrow! I know a GREAT Boot Camp program!)

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0645 CLASS CALLED TO DUTY!

This is a Monday, Wednesday, Friday class and will follow the same routine as the 0830 class!

—————————————————————-

SUMMER SCHOOL SPECIAL

Have a student who’d like to join USMC Fitness BOOT CAMP for the summer? Special discounted program for summer student recruits! Email me for details!

—————————————————————

THESE ECONOMIC TIMES

I try to promote and patronize Boot Campers in their businesses. I am also a member of a business networking group (BNI – Business Networking International) that meets weekly to promote one another’s businesses.

I’ll also include folks looking for a new job or career change.

If you have knowledge of an open position or job opportunity, pass it on and I’ll add it here.

Today’s Big Three are:

1. Collierville is looking for a Dispatcher for their Communications Center. Requires high school diploma or GED) including or supplemented by courses in radio-telephone or telecommunications; and six months of experience in radio-telephone communications work; or any equivalent combination of experience or training. Pay Range- $27, 517 to $43,011 and a great benefit package. Contact CPD @ (901) 457-2568 or Human Resources @ 457-2290 or online www.colliervillepolice.org and www.collierville.com.

2. Katherine Aden-Vermilye (Boot Camper — Job Seeker!)
“I like office work, but I’m pretty open. I’ve worked in a law firm – recently as a fill in for answering phones and then a little paralegal work. In the past I’ve worked at Starbucks and a law firm as a filing clerk and then promoted to head of billing.” khakimoose@yahoo.com

3. Need a BABYSITTER? My name is Rachael Lynskey (Boot Camper — Job Seeker) and I am a medical student looking for a babysitting job for the summer. I am the oldest of 7 and have grown up watching children of all ages so I have plenty of experience. My schedule is pretty wide open at this point and I finish school on May 29th, so would be able to start after that. I live on Mud Island so working closer would be wonderful but not absolutely necessary! My number is 423-653-2547 and my email is rachaellynskey@gmail.com.

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BOOT CAMPER TO BE HOMELESS 😉

One of our Boot Camp ladies is looking for a new place to live ASAP! She’s looking to rent in the east Memphis area. She doesn’t need a big place, it’s just her. She has no pets and she doesn’t smoke. She’s sweet, adorable, and pays her bills. She even pays ME on time! If you know of a house or an apartment that might work, let me know! Time is of the essence! Thank you!

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Tomorrow … do better.

To your continued good health and fitness,

Tony

Sergeant Major Tony Ludlow
USMC Fitness BOOT CAMP, Commanding
4888 Southern Ave
Memphis, TN 38117
901-644-0145

www.usmcfitnessbootcamp.com

www.shaklee.net/tonyludlow/main

Posted by Tony Ludlow | in Uncategorized | No Comments »


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