Author: Rudy

A few of us had waited till the regular Saturday, Peltch-fest IPC time to crank out the hoagies and grinders, I mean burpees and thrusters. Or, maybe we were grateful for the chance to put it off till the last minute.
As the expected PAX waded in through the waste deep water, and the rain continued for the fourth straight day, YHC was looking for a place where we could do thrusters in the grass but burpees on the pavement. (Mud burpees are fun, but not if you’re trying to do over 200 for time.) That’s when the last person any of expected to show up showed up. That’s right, Yankee Joe, Mr. Backiotomy himself, pulled up with the Prius’s waterproof battery installed.
He immediately revealed The Fire Within, and that, combined with YHC’s being clad in Phil the Hurt, Enron’s left-out feelings began to stir. But, hey, there are only three named tank tops to go around, so, you’ll have to wait your turn.
After a lengthy warmup for maximum back and shoulder loosening, we moseyed to the edge of the playground where the coupon herd awaited us. After some debate about the best combo of mud and pavement, Smooth pointed out that the wooden pylons around the playground made for perfectly spaced stalls for each PAX.
YHC explained the routine at YJ’s request, revealing that had YJ known what a back-blaster this workout would be, he may not have been so cavalier in jumping back into the fray. But here we were, so suggested modifications were given, the music was cued up, and the tyrannical EMOM timer was unleashed.
Round 1 was done by all with plenty of confidence, each of us surprised and hopeful at the amount of thrusters we could fit into the 40-ish seconds left after five quick burpees. And that was it—that’s how long the confidence and hope lasted. Round 2 revealed the truth—we were in for a long, awful grind made possible only by the fact that the man next to you wasn’t gonna stop. And the men Wednesday didn’t stop. So, don’t think about how many are left, don’t think about whether you can do it, and definitely don’t take breaks—the loop monster was hot on our heels.
Enron and Valve were driving each other at a breakneck pace, and Pope was popping burpees like they were side straddle hops. YHC, on the other hand, takes a little longer to throw this long, heavy body around, and after seeing Honeysuckle’s performance on Wednesday and hearing that his thruster form was impeccable throughout, my thrusters would have to be real thrusters. Elbows to knees every time. No man should be left alone in his suffering, and doing that many proper thrusters in under 25 minutes is suffering, no matter how low your resting heart rate is.
Pope, Enron, and Valve took off on the 400 meter run, but YHC still had a ways to go. YJ and Smooth were courageously sticking with it. Smooth even commented that he was already farther along than he got on Wednesday. What a hoss.
The numbers kept creeping along, with every thrusters and burpee bought at a high price. They each felt valuable, but there were still so, so many required before the rewards of rest and pride could be attained.
YHC hoped irrationally that the second half would at least start off a little easier given the recovery mosey and the change up of exercises, but the EMOM thrusters, though doable, did not pair well with the effort to max out burpees. YHC thought maybe shrinking the expectations of how many burpees were actually doable in the time given would bring some relief, but it only meant more thrusters. It was a cruel trap with only one long, agonizing way out.
Eventually, as with most things in life, the few burpees every minute did actually add up to 100, and it was time to rejoin the land of the living , where people generally have hope and a sense of humor.
After a needed recovery mosey (once YHC could rise from the ground) it was time for the PAX to take the load off Annie/YJ, so we all took the necessary amount of burpees to get him to 100, and then turned our attention to Smooth. He peacefully let us know that he’d been in a thruster loop for quite a while and felt no pressure to get out of it. It was like watching your friend get slowly eaten by a monster, but he’s like, “It’s ok, brother. These things happen. This isn’t my first, and it won’t be my last.”
With two minutes left, we did some Hello Dollies and LBC’s in puddles to get us to 7:30, and then it was back to the flag for shirt swapping and COT.
The Fire Within went to Valve for some cool reason (does anyone even listen to those anymore? Or have the reasons become too arbitrary? Valve noticed this, and brought it to YHC’s attention. It could be anything from a manly performance to a well placed fart. Each named shirt may need some clearly assigned criteria for what earns it. That could get fun.) Smooth earned the new Phil the Hurt by willingly doing IPC twice. Not sure how it’s gonna fit, though.
YJ prayed us out, and we’re grateful for the 24 hours of not having to think about/
dread the next one. Yet, somehow, there’s nothing quite like September. Grateful to suffer with you fellas.

SYITG,
Goose

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