Category: Backblasts

10 men braved the Olga aftermath to see what was on the No Power Menu this past Saturday.  YHC may not be able to remember much of what was actually on the menu, but I can tell you what was not on the menu: a fun game of mud football wasn’t (or, really, any “fun” in general); a beatdown with a clear vision wasn’t; and a fast cup of strong coffee at coffeeteria wasn’t either.  But more on that later.

First, there was much mumblechatter and confusion as to what exactly happened to Wacker.  He had posted on the GroupMe that Olga had “slipped in last night and screwed things up.”  But many men hadn’t heard that the tropical storm had been named and so, naturally, thought a Russian woman had slipped into Bush’s bed.  Obviously, there was a lot of concern and alarm until it was revealed Olga was “not the Russian lady he did that run with a few weeks ago.”

Now, the beatdown.  Nevermind that YHC can’t remember the specifics of the warmorama (it’s pretty much the same 15 or so exercises anyway, right?), more of note was that it had to be the darkest warmorama on record.  With the power out in the entire neighborhood, it really couldn’t be any darker (unless, of course, we lost the light coming from Hammer and Pik’s phones).  YHC kept thinking, how can we do anything in this darkness?  No bear crawls, no suicides – what are we gonna just sit in a circle and do side straddle hops all morning??

So… after some SSH’s, we carefully tread over to the playground equipment for a round of 7’s: pull-ups to merkins.  Then over to the benches for a second set of 7’s: Freak Nasties to Bulgarians (admittedly, Bulgarians were a bit ill-conceived due to the awkwardness of having to do each leg).

Then carefully back to center court for a set of 1 minute AMRAPs, dealer’s choice: we went around the circle and each man picked an exercise.  I can’t remember the exercises: there were merkins, there were jump squats, there were burpees, oh, and then Maverick showed up about this time and made us do Merkins again.

After that, Tank mercifully took the Q for a moment, just as light was starting to peek through.   He had us do runs across the court, with a merkin at each end.  About 5 laps here to get the heart rate going.

YHC took the Q back for what I thought could be an interesting one: partner up for the slowest Catch Me If You Can ever.  P1 will inchworm down the block, P2 will perform 10 merkins, 10 squats, and 10 LBCs, before bear crawling to catch and replace P1.  YHC thought it would be fun to go sightseeing down the block (now that there was light) where there were downed power lines, fallen trees, frantic cars, and all sorts of other fun stuff to dodge.  But the wise Hammer pulled us back to the safety of the court.  This exercise turned out to be not so fun in the end anyway.

Then we split into two teams of 5 and did a relay race across the court.  Jose ran so fast that I think he ran straight outta the court and into the home across the street, but he did seal the tie for his team.  So, 20 burpees for all.

And… what else?  Ah, we finished with a round of Mary: again, a 1 minute AMRAP, dealer’s choice, around the circle.  And again, YHC cannot recall the exact exercises, but does remember that Pik had us do calf raises, because I remember thinking, “this isn’t core,” but hey, fair game nonetheless.  And Turbo had us do Scuba Steves.  And Jose pulled out his fave – Jane Fondas, 1 minute each leg to close it all out.

COT where Tank took center stage to announce the Hundo, which is gaining some traction despite its utter insanity.   You gotta love these guys.  Akbar prayed us out and then we were on our way in search of coffee.  Despite the citywide outage, this group of stragglers wouldn’t take no for an answer and found the local Waffle House to be incredibly accommodating despite the lack of power.  T-claps to our cheery waitress, who put up with Hammer’s constant tea refills and a bunch of sweaty guys that had no intention of eating.  In the company of these men, that weak, slow-drip coffee was some of the best I’ve ever had.

So while we may never know if those eighteen year olds were able to pull their truck out with bungee cords, like much in life, some things are just better left to the imagination.  Gents, thanks for the opportunity to co-lead with Tank, I believe I can speak for both of us when I say that it’s a privilege and honor that we don’t take for granted.

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