In a previous Sea Cadet camp story, I mentioned that at 13 or 14 I was well ahead of my peers in the boob department. One camp activity that really brought that them to the forefront, shall we say, was the obstacle course. The obstacle course builds teamwork, muscles, and problem solving skills, and some problems are unanticipated, to say the least.
The course consisted of all kinds of fun, scary, and seemingly dangerous concoctions. Swinging from ropes like Tarzan, crawling on your stomach in tunnels and under barbed wire, and walking across a rope bridge. All fun, fun, fun, until I reached “the pit.”
The pit was a huge hole, about the height of 1 1/2 people. Across, there were several horizontal logs set up where you had to climb over one, under the next, and keep going over and under, then climb out of the pit with the help of your peers.
Climbing over wasn’t such a big deal, but when I had to get under the log, well, I got kinda stuck. Yup, the twins were in the way. The way I remember it, I was lying on my back, trying to push myself through with my legs, and suddenly, I couldn’t go any further. I tried going for a diagonal manoeuvre in the hopes of getting through thinking if I can get one in, then the other would have to follow.
Knees bent, pushing with my feet, and squirming under the log, I looked up and noticed my squad leader towering over the edge of the pit, watching me, with the sun’s rays glowing around him. Mortified, I felt like digging an even deeper hole to hide in for the rest of the summer.
Eventually, I did make it through to a hoopla of cheers from the girls in my squad. I’d like to say that the satisfaction of completing the course far outweighed my loss of dignity that day, but I’d have to hold my fingers crossed.
According to Wikipedia, personal embarrassment “can be caused by unwanted attention to private matters.”