Fly Away - a fighter pilot story

Chapter 11 - Get Me Going

Yawing I hit the snooze button on my phone. Why am I doing this to myself? Why do I not just let myself be declared unfit to fly? For the last few years of my contract, I could get transferred to Hawaii or some other base where it's warm year-round and there's ocean access. I could work on my tan and enjoy the time. Maybe I could even get a diving license.

But unfortunately, that's not me. Even though I'm struggling with the consequences of the accident, I want to get back in a plane. Yesterday clearly showed me that I'm not made for sitting behind a desk all day. It opened my eyes, that there is still the old me somewhere in my brain and I just need to figure out how to get back to that. Maybe a run will do me some good.

Sighing I get out of bed, brush my teeth and then change into my work-out clothing. I am about to tie my shoes when I hear that I have received a new message. Who is writing to me so early? I look at the screen, it's from Dave.

Good morning, I hope you slept well. Are you in for some more flying today, or do you need a day off?

A smile creeps onto my lips. How can anyone be so empathetic and understanding? The more important question right now is, do I want to get back into an aircraft with Dave today? Am I ready to face my demons again? Without thinking too much about it, I text him back.

You are up early. I'd be lying if I say, it was good. And yeah, I am in. What's the plan for today, anyways? I've not received a schedule yet.

I'm always up that early. Do you want to talk about it?
You didn't get one? Let me check with Hyde, he's responsible for that...

Bad dream and uncomfortable mattress, but I had worse. And thanks for asking him.

No worries. But why aren't you trying to get back to sleep? You really looked exhausted yesterday.

I could ask you the same.

Well, I need to get my workout in. All the food that I am eating isn't going to magically disappear. :D

Ah, I forgot who I am talking to... Mr. Foodie himself. Anyways I am going for a run now. Talk to you later.

After sending him the last text, I tie my shoes and leave my apartment. Quickly I walk down the stairs of the building. I put my headphones in my ears and start to warm up to the music, to then start running at a casual pace through the neighborhood. Although the sun is just making its way into the sky, lighting up the streets, it is surprisingly cold this morning.

After a few songs, I feel that I am starting to sweat and when my lungs begin to ache slightly from the cool air, I stop and look around. As I run, I tend to block out my surroundings and think about nothing. That's why I'm all the more surprised when one of the buildings in front of me reads gym in big bold letters. Glad to escape the cool morning air for a short time, I walk towards it. Might be a good idea to finally lift some weights. I haven't done that since I arrived here six days ago. Physical health is important to withstand the effects of high-G maneuvers.

Pleasant warmth envelops me as I enter the old brick building. Immediately, the old familiar sound of weights and the smell of sweat hits me. Yeah, I didn't miss the last part. It makes me wrinkle my nose.

"Ma'am, may I please see your card.", the soldier sitting behind the counter asks me, eyeing me intently. Immediately I feel like a piece of meat on a platter, which is nothing new for me. Going to one of the gyms as a woman on a military base, especially alone, is a thing in itself. Some soldiers enjoy being able to gape at women. It's disgusting and demeaning.

"Of course." I reach into my side pocket of the running jacket and hand it to the soldier. He checks it, immediately stands up and salutes. With a formal "Captain Wilson" he hands it back to me and I realize he is now embarrassed that he was so dismissive of me. Gratefully, I accept it and finally walk into the gym.