A friend asked me last night about my recent trip to Dallas with the International Student Division at Fort Sill. The conversation went like this:

S: So, how was Dallas? Was it fun?

Me: Well… Yeah. Kinda. It wasn’t as fun as I hoped. But the hotel was nice! And so was breakfast at the hotel!

S: -Laughter- Breakfast? Wasn’t there anything else?

Me: Uh… They took us to the museum which was interesting-ish…

And so ended that short exchange about Dallas. In full honesty, I thought the ISD really made the effort to make that field studies trip as enjoyable for us as they could. They took all 70 of us to the food bank where we were actually volunteered to clock in some work to help the working hungry (yes, they made us! but it all turned out well and happy), we checked out the Bureau of Engraving and Printing to see money being made which was quite cool, and basically looked around town. Overall, the trip was more educational than fun, which I guess was really the whole point.

My point, however, is that there is no better way to start the day than to have a full-blown American breakfast – I realized it really made all the difference for me over that three days. But then another revelation came to me earlier just as I was cutting up that slice of Hickory smoked ham and lavishing it with delightfully runny yoke that flowed out of my perfectly-cooked over easies. I am utterly convinced that the best way to begin any day is to first punish yourself with a kick-ass workout and then rewarding yourself with that giant serving of eggs, hashbrown, crisp and fatty bacon, buttered toast and an ice cold glass of orange juice.

I found that out only because I dragged my sleeping body out of bed at 340am to subject myself to a PT test which I was not required to take. S thinks I have OCD but I just like to balance out all that eating with a healthy dose of exercise. The good thing was that I performed quite satisfactorily and I figured out exactly which aspects of my fitness need more work. I guess knowing that I have the next five days off just makes everything even sweeter. As my American counterparts will say, “Hooah, Memorial Day weekend!”