With two days to fill, YHC was happy to kill the legs yesterday before focusing on the glorious death of the abs today. Interestingly, only Paradox and Yankee Joe showed up to have their core sploded, and though they didn’t actually know what was coming, they knew Tuesday Tuff wouldn’t leave them where it found them.
We started with a warmup of the usuals minus cherry pickers, which caused YJ to experience his first brain glitch of the day. There would be many more, and though most of these glitches worked themselves out through his colon, they did cause him some havoc with counting before being released into the atmosphere.
Moseyed to the bumper and stop sign and back before diving into the first ab routine I found on the Exicon: Bruce Lee. This consisted of 20 reps apiece of 6 different exercises with no breaks. We did the recommended three rounds total with a 30 second rest only between each full round. The exercises were: American Hammers, Leg Raises, LBC’s, Penguins, Crunchy Frogs, and 100’s. After all the core work we’ve been doing over the past few weeks, this one wasn’t as bad as I expected, though the crunchy frogs got old quick. We probably could’ve gone for a few more rounds, but there was more on the docket that YHC wanted to get to.
Next was 11’s–stage front to sidewalk, Van Goghdas on one end and static hold wife pleasers on the other, carioca there, nur back. Van Goghdas are basically Abe Vigodas (Windmills), but done lying on your back–so spread eagle, bring one arm up and over, lifting upper body so as to reach down and touch the opposite toe; the other hand stays where it was on the ground. These were eventually less awkward than YHC thought they’d be, and the first five or so weren’t that hard, but they began to deliver pretty well after that. Static wife pleasers are wife pleasers with a three second hold at the top.
We stayed together and did the wife pleasers in cadence so no one was tempted to rush them. It was good to have some camaraderie and solid mumblechatter during 11’s for once–that’s usually somewhat of a solo experience–though, toward the end it was nothing but panting and grunting. That last round was a doozie.
The last routine was called “The Hands of Time”. The PAX hit their sixes in a circle (triangle?) with heads toward the center, hands under their rears in leg raise position, and legs up at 90 degrees (top of a leg raise). In ring of fire fashion, each would count off and lower their legs to 6 inch hold position until it came back around, and the count would continue with each then lifting the legs back up again, and then back down, and so on until the Q stops it.
The glitching and subsequent colon activity really ramped up from both YJ and Paradox at this point, to point where not only was counting a problem, but laughter and toxic fumes made breathing a problem. The Hands of Time movements combined with deep fatigue, endless counting, and methane seemed to operate as a sort of time machine that brought us back to a time when we’d sleep over at each other’s houses and fart and laugh till we farted again. YJ even started quoting Adam Sandler albums (this actually happened).
YHC knew the only solution was to just keep going, and going, and going in order to ride the time wave and push the body beyond its limits until nothing remained but the PAX’s desire to to fill every open Q slot for the next two years so nothing like this ever happens again.
Eventually, we stopped and moved onto five minutes of Mary…to work the core. And, just to be sure that the motivation to fill the Q sheet really took root, we did 51 Freddys (2:1), 53 flutter kicks (2:1), and 25 dying cockroaches (2:1) before time ran out.
Ashley and Rebecca, you’re welcome for the ripped abs you’ll observe developing on the abdomens of your respective men in the next day or two. Just don’t make them laugh or do anything that requires counting–a glitch at this point may result in the need to purchase new underwear.
COT and Dox prayed us out. Be sure to sign up to Q!
SYITG,
Goose
