WHEN I was asked to write up my experiences on an army training exercise for the Gazette's Feeling Good, I must admit to feeling that my journalistic integrity was under threat, writes Paul Duncan.

As I stumbled for the fire exit of the gymnasium at Barrow TA centre a mere 45 minutes after walking through the door – fighting nausea in the pit of my stomach and trying to banish the stars before my eyes – feeling good I most definitely was not.

The assignment began with a routine shout across the newsroom from the news editor, along the lines of: “Who wants to take part in an army boot camp?”

The logical response to such a request should have been to either a) pretend I hadn’t heard him, or, b) pretend I hadn’t heard him.

However, perhaps buoyed by the previous night’s viewing of Andy McNab’s Tour of Duty on TV, I foolishly agreed to pit my lamentable lack of fitness against the British Army.

I was greeted at the barracks on Holker Street, Barrow, by Sergeant Ian Aspin of the Duke of Lancaster’s Regiment, an Army physical training instructor with more than 20 years’ military experience.

Feeling every inch the soldier in a pair of camouflaged pants and a regimental T-shirt, I was introduced to my training partners, Staff Sergeant Pete Sharpe and Josh and Nathan – two willing army recruits against whom we would be competing during the “old ‘uns versus young ‘uns” exercise that was to follow.

The session began with a few gentle warm-up stretches and circuits of the gym. “Piece of cake,” I thought. Then… out came the jerry cans.

The exercise that followed was based on that endured by raw recruits on the Army Development and Selection Centre at Glencorse barracks in Scotland and involved sprinted shuttle runs and traditional exercises such as press-ups, bench-dips, squat-thrusts and star jumps or burpees – in Army slang.

The grim determination of myself and SSgt Sharpe fared well against the youthful exuberance of Josh and Nathan, and throughout, Sgt Aspin was a constant presence cajoling and encouraging in equal measure with none of the traditional “drop and give me 20” haranguing often associated with stern Sergeant Major-types.

The element of competition proved to be the main motivating factor and the presence of the young lads alongside helped spur us on and added an element of – dare I say it - fun to the proceedings.

The afternoon ended with my own personal breaking-point, the fireman’s lift, which left me gasping for fresh air – and at one point – consciousness.

I am under no illusion that what I experienced was anything like the intensity of that which would be endured by budding infantry recruits, but, after regaining my breath, I experienced a feeling of achievement and a sense of pride that I have never felt after a workout in a high street gym.