Humidity is stupidity – from The Hammer

Rolled up to the Marsh at the unholy hour of 4 AM because insomnia is my toxic trait. Sleep and I are clearly in a breakup, and rather than rustling around in bed like a confused raccoon and catching side-eye from my wife, I ghosted the house. Outside? Oh, just a steam room sponsored by Satan himself. The air was so thick, I think I saw it blink at me. It would have been easier had Truecoat not had killed us on Saturday.

First to show was Hammer. Groans echoed through the gloom—he had the Q, and we all knew we were about to regret our life choices. Akbar arrived looking semi-conscious. Then rolled up Einstein—but not our Einstein—this was Houston Einstein, complete with big energy and bigger humidity tolerance.

We circled up, slapped our knees a few times in what Hammer called a “warm-up,” and then he led us to the benches for Step-Up Chaos. Left knee first, because apparently that matters, then straight into dirkens—aka push-ups designed by a sociopath. Then right leg step-ups (gotta stay symmetrical or the CrossFit demons haunt you), and freak nasties, which sound dirty and honestly feel dirty when done on dewy benches at dawn.

Then came bear crawls. Lots of them. Across the basketball court. And back. Then “crawl bears” which is like bear crawling… in reverse. Nothing says strong dad energy like dragging your sweaty carcass backwards while swatting mosquitos off your neck.

Then came the Four Corners of Doom:
• Corner 1: 7 shoulder-tap muricans
• Corner 2: 7 shoulder-tap muricans + 14 jump squats (insert leg regret here)
• Corner 3: add 21 Peter Parkers (now my core has filed for divorce)
• Corner 4: slap on 28 Hello Dollies because why not destroy our hips too?

Then we reversed it all like some sick CrossFit Uno game—28, 21, 14, 7—until our bodies were crying and our souls quietly left through the humidity.

We wrapped it up with a round robin Mary and Circle of Fire, because nothing says “brotherhood” like flailing on your back while someone screams “just ten more seconds!”

COT was a reality check:
• Prayers for Einstein’s son Kevin
• Coachella’s job hunt
• Jose 10K following up on El Carl’s melon-sized melanoma—sending all the benign vibes

Final thoughts from yours truly, Jose 10K: Even though Hammer tried to murder us with good intentions, I hope y’all had a solid Father’s Day. Stay sweaty, stay grateful, and stay away from crawl bears.

See you in the gloom, gentlemen.

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