Was he out there? I don’t think so!!!!! Feeling somber that the NFC and AFC Championships are this weekend and the Saints will again be watching from their couches, YHC felt it was time for a fun beatdown. So a competitive game of two hand touch football (technically it was just keep away with a football) was in the cards on the Lakefront Saturday.
YHC divided the PAX into 4 teams of 5 players each with 2 fields next to one another. Each team earned a point by stringing together 5 consecutive passes. If a turnover occured, the offending team had to do a penalty exercise. The penalties were merkins, burpees, Sister Mary Katherine’s, Jump Squats, Bobby Hurley’s. Set the timer for 5 minutes and let the games begin. When the buzzer sounded, the winning teams faced off and the losing teams squared off. Rinse and repeat a couple of times and it was time to head back to the flag.
So there we were…how every great story starts…today was the commencement of what will hopefully become an annual CSAUP, Uncle Hammer’s 1000 Burpee Beatdown.
First: Special Shoutouts —
Jose 10k –DJ Jose had the best possible music, with songs individualized for members of the PAX
Moby Dick –Dude’s 71, that’s right, 71, and he is out there making us middle agers look bad.
Hawgcycle — Did this CSAUP on the Southshore by himself in just over 2 hours…no idea how he accomplished that. Awesome work!
Now onto the beatdown:
0610: Knowing this would likely be an all day affair, we skipped the normal 2 mile pre-thang, instead moseying from the flags towards the beach, stopping at each fire hydrant for a set of 10 burpees (6 sets out, 6 sets back =120). DJ 10k had Brother Angus lead us off, picking the axe (See what I did there) like lightning, but sounding like thunder. Then, while most of us may be partial to Southern Belles, Mr. David Lee Roth, with help from Steve Vai, pined for a young lass named Yankee Rose. As if the blood wasn’t pumping hard enough by 0615, Vince Neil kickstarted our hearts even further. Before we knew it, we were 1/8 the way to our goal. We returned with the remaining PAX awaiting to begin.
0630– No warmup necessary. Jump right into the EMOM of 6 burpees. Doing this mitigates the overwhelming thought of 1000, as well as helping with the physically challenging nature of the CSAUP. As the Zen philosopher Basho once said, or maybe it was Bushwhacker, “A journey of 1000 miles begins with a single burpee.” How true.
Mentally, the wash rinse and repeat of doing this for an hour can be quite taxing. This is where DJ Jose was so great. Always thinking of other, he picked out songs for most of the PAX. Some included were:
The Bird (Morris Day and the Time) –Bird
U Can’t Touch This (MC Hammer) –Hammer
Some Moby Song —Moby Dick
Relax (Frankie Goes to Hollywood) –Zoolander
The Best Around (From Karate Kid) –Russo
To be honest, the hour was over before we knew it. Most PAX were asking to continue for another hour, and Hammer could easily have been elected mayor of CSAUPtown but for all the mail in ballots. However, they all missed their wives so much, they could not bear to continue for another minute. That was the right choice, guys, as hard as it was to make.
So, by 0730: 120+365 (5 minutes were sets of 7)+ 15 (a burpee for each PAX during COT) = 500
Halfway home by coffeeteria!
PHASE 2: Do 250 OYO throughout the day before reconvening at 6 pm at Grandmother’s House. Some went more traditional –Hammer did 25 sets of 10 throughout the day (looked weird doing it outside the Pelican Park gym before 2.0’s basketball game). DJ 10k did his while his M worked out. Of course, he overachieved, doing another 350 before lunch. Russo knocked the rest of his out before I got home, it seemed. Hawg’s Breath did a few with his adorable daughter on his back, like the true bad ass he is. However we decided to get it done, we finished 750 before twilight.
PHASE 3: Final 250 at Grandma’s
6 skrong at Grandma’s at 1800. Turbo, Bird, Jose, Hammer, Hawg’s Breath, Akbar. Knocked out the last quarter in just over 30 minutes. Having an eclectic mix to inspire us: CCR, NIN, and Billy Idol (twice, in fact. No really.)
…And done! We then enjoyed some F2 at Old Rail, then home to bed.
Thank you all for joining in this venture. Each of you inspired me along the way, and I am indebted to you all for the kindness, generosity, friendship, and leadership you all display.
For those that “missed” it, there will always be next year!
Yes, you guessed it! The main event surrounded Jose’s pride and joy–his sweat jug! You remember… the one that some of his teacher friends reportedly spotted in the back seat of his car during a recent, quick trip for lunch. Mickey D’s, anyone? Just imagine the ‘splainin that must have taken place on that ride. Oh, to have been a fly on the windshield that day. To the amazement of the Northshore PAX, Jose 10k, in typical F3 fashion, rose to the, ahem, “challenge” and filled his sweat jug in a measley 16 DAYS! I’m sure in Zoo’s wildest dreams he did not figure he’d be getting doused on the Lakefront on September 12th. If I were a betting man, Halloween would be where I placed my moolah. And I’d imagine that’s what Zoo was counting on, too. But, not Jose. He “squeezed” in about 4 T-shirts a day! Let’s count em. 1) The beatdown in the gloom. 57 straight, but who’s counting? 2) ISI 3) mowing the lawn (everyday???) 4) moving Goose out of his house (lagniappe). 5) Who knows what else? It’s Jose. The man never stops!
So there we were. Zoolander. Jose 10k. The entire F3 Northshore PAX. And the Smelly Bucket of Sweat with that BROWN STUFF at the bottom. Does anyone know what that stuff was? I was afraid to ask. Anyway, back to the moment. It was time for Jose to do the honors. And that he did, launching the Lowe’s bucket full of brown, rancid, baked / aged sweat at Zoolander, blasting him squarely in the chest. Zoo, then did the best thing he could to quickly cleanse the body, jumped in the Lake. But, hey, I give Zoolander credit; he took it like a man. The anticipation was palpable, Jose was giddy, and Zoo, a man of his word, was brave. And the PAX? We were nauseated, looking at the rife liquid in the bucket. The Hammer said he turned around so he didn’t barf. And poor Zoo, I don’t think he would have ever heard the end of it if he tried to get out of it. So T-Claps to him, for coming up with the challenge and taking it like and man, and to Jose, for filling the bucket so quickly, so we all could get a good laugh.
Did I mention there were 2 beatdowns today?
Well, there was, and the toughest one is part of a nationwide F3 challenge sponsored by F3 Greenwood, South Carolina. It’s called the Iron Pax Challenge, and it’s not for the faint of heart. After a brief warmup of Seal Jacks, Arm Circles, Cherry Pickers, Mountain Climbers, and Imperial Walkers, Steve led the Iron Paxers to the west on the Lakefront for a grueling 43 minute circuit beatdown, where the PAX moves from one station to the next, carrying a cinder block coupon, doing exercises along the way try in AMRAP fashion.
Of course, it should come as no surprise that the Iron PAXers acquitted themselves admirably with the following rep counts:
TankedUp – 651
The Hammer – 545
Butt Splice – 528
Zoolander – 490
Jose 10k – 486
Toto – 450
T-Claps to all PAX willing to endure Iron PAX. It definitely is a DOWNPAINMENT!
Meanwhile, YHC led the rest of the PAX Eastward for a series of Tabata sets. Clock set for 30 second sets, with 30 secs of rest between. Exercises were merkins, plank Jacks, jump squats, smurf jacks, flutter kicks, Apollo Ono’s, monkey humpers, and leg raises.
Mosey to playground equipment at East end of Lakefront for 4 rounds of the following exercise:
19 Merkins (commemoration of 19 yr anny of 9-11-01)
Bear Crawl 20 yards
Pop up and Run around perimeter of entire fence at east end of lakefront, back to starting line.
Rinse and Repeat 4 times.
Mosey back to Flag.
Thanks for the entertainment today, Zoolander and Jose 10k! We enjoyed it!
Prayers for our nation and for those families affected by the 9-11 Terrorist Attacks. May we always REMEMBER. STAY VIGILANT. STAY STRONG
It’s been threatening rain all week. And the forecast for Thursday evening’s F2 beatdown was no different, with a 60-70% chance as of that morning. YHC seriously envisioned 10k and I sitting under the gazebo drinking alone (he his bud light tallboys, me my overpriced hipster beer), while 10k grumbled about the sunset and my beer. And while that vision partially came true – with the added bonus of a “only-in-Hollywood” rainbow overhead – we were spared the actual rain and a decent size group posted.
YHC had planned for no warmorama, since time was short, but as BBQ was dealing with securing his bike (he rode from Covington! 👏👏👏), we knocked out some SSH’s before jumping into 20x burpees OYO.
Next up, a Lazy Dora. Same as the usual Dora (100 merks, 200 squats, 200 LBC’s), but instead of running between sets, the alternating partner would hold a static pose until it was his turn. So plank for 10x merkins, Al Gore for 20x squats, and 6” hold for 30x LBC’s. Cumulative goals were reached pretty quickly, and we moved over to the seawall for some leg work.
20x jump squats, lunge walk to sidewalk, 20x monkey humpers IC
20x Bulgarians IC (10 ea.), lunge walk, 20x Apollo Ohno’s
20x calf raises IC (balancing on the edge of the seawall, which was more difficult than you might think), lunge walk, 20x Sister Mary’s.
Finally, back to the wall for shoulders: 15x freak nasties IC, 5x derkins IC. Rinse and repeat with 10x freaks IC / 10x derks IC. Then 5x freaks IC / 15x derkins IC.
Around this time we had an In Time flyby, with his cross country team in tow, and we then circled up for an abbreviated Mary of heels to heaven and leg raises, both x15 IC.
Upon completion, the guys noticed a rather large and somewhat magical rainbow stretched across the lakefront sky. Turbo joked that all we needed now was a unicorn and, lo and behold, the hero we both deserved and needed materialized: Amnesia, donning, that’s right, a unitard. (At least, according to Jose that is the official name of said bodysuit. The differences between a unitard and a leotard and a bodysuit is a mystery to me, and one I’m not willing to google.)
COT, prayed out by Akbar, and we all headed to the Gazebo joined by Cowbell, Tank, and Tank’s son (a soon-to-be named F3 brother). Good beer, good company, and a good sunset – what more could you ask for? Great time out there with you guys, thanks for posting and thanks for the opportunity to lead!
*rainbow and unitard not captured on film due to Cowbell’s usual tardiness
At this time last year, I showed up to my first lakefront beatdown (thanks Russo), and almost didn’t come back. I was a gym rat, couldn’t run a mile, ate like crap, and hovered around 190. But I was intrigued by the companionship of the PAX that day, the leadership focus, how no man was left behind, and pressed on. I attended Saturdays through September, then cancelled my gym membership, and went all in averaging 4 days a week, including the scramble (thanks Shooter). Since then, I’ve lost 25 pounds, done CSAUPS and F2 events, and ran 80 miles last Feb during Run Ranger Run. My only regret is that I didn’t find this earlier.
PAIN TRAIN
26 posted (6 under 17) at the mothership Saturday to help celebrate YHC’s 1 year anniversary, and take a ride on the Pain Train. We traveled from the flag to the shaft, stopping at 8 pain stations along the way, accompanied by motivational tunes. *I understand that most songs could not be heard, songs are listed after each station
Pre-Thang: 2 miler
Warmorama: Arm Circles, SSH, Torso Twist, Self-Love, Hillbillies x10 IC
THANG: All About the Benjamins – Everything equals 100 reps.
Exercise 1: 25 reps at the wall
Travel in various ways 55 feet to the flags
Exercise 2: 25 reps, run back to the wall Rinse and repeat
Total of 50 reps of each exercise
All exercises done OYO, plank for the six
Pain Station’s 1 and 2
Freak Nasty, Bear Crawl, Mountain Climbers
Run, repeat
Dirkins, Flying Nun (Lunge with arm circles), Twinkle Toes (Al Gore calf raises)
Run, Repeat
It’s All About the Benjamin’s, P.Diddy et all
C’Mon ‘N’ Ride it (The Train), Quad City DJ’s
Crazy Train, Ozzy Osbourne
Breathe, The Prodigy
Song 2, Blur
Pain Station 3: Let the Good Times Roll
Burpees on Good Times Roll, air presses in between.
Let the Good Times Roll, The Cars
Pain Station’s 4 and 5:
Bulgarian Split Squats, Army Crawl, Superman’s
Run, repeat
Stone Mountain, Crawl Bear, Renegade Row (1 arm plank, 1 arm row)
Run, repeat
The Kill, Thirty Seconds to Mars
Firestarter, The Prodigy
Fly from the Inside, Shinedown
Pain Station 6: The SSH Motivator
IC 10 full SSH, Shoulder level, down and out, then hands at sides, then 9 each, then 8, etc. non-stop
‘Till I Collapse,Eminem & Nate Dogg
Gonna Fly Now, Bill Conti (Rocky Theme Song)
Seemed easy enough, but what ensued was a painful comedy of errors. YHC had a tough time conveying and keeping the order of positions, which kept us out of synch just a tad. To curious onlookers it must have looked like a bunch of birds trying to take flight.
After a while it seemed it would never end, why was it taking so long, why do I feel like I’m about to collapse? I kept my gaze at Bushwacker (who brought us The Motivator), seeking some rescue by mental telepathy – but all I got was a big smile.
Legend has it the Arnold Schwarzenegger and his buddies would go camping and do squats until they couldn’t stand any more. This was not to be our fate, we would persevere!
Later in the day I sought advice from the engineering mind of Grover and he did not hold back. “You did it wrong dad: the positions were wrong and you did a double count instead of single.”
Ah, all makes sense now. So we did 440 SSH instead of 220. Way to hang in there guys.
Pain Station 7
Merkins on New Day Rising, plank in between
Pain Station 8: Mary IC
8 ct Peter Parker Merkins (Perkins) x10
Crunchy Frogs x20
LBC x50
LMC x25
Count, Name-o-rama, Welcome FNG Laces!
COT: Prayers for the crazy world we are in, safety, and thanks for blessings.
Coffeteria: Book and the Bean
All said and done, including WU and Mary – 1096 reps, 100 yards of crawls, 100 yards of runs
Thanks for a great year, friendships, pushing me beyond what I ever thought I could do, and the opportunity to lead.
Blame Akbar. This was his doing, really. His “block party,” (henceforth known as ‘Akbar’s Abomination’) – which was preceded by Tank’s Murph – pretty much guaranteed that Saturday’s beatdown would focus on legs and core.
But first, the pre-thang : the usual 2 miles out and back with the usual suspects. Now, YHC was definitely not looking at Bushwacker’s butt. And neither was Tank. But I mean, really, when the guy’s shorts are that tight and he’s running in front of you, it’s hard not to take note. Looked like he had those things painted on. Tank was comfortable enough in his masculinity to throw out a few catcalls. Though, judging by Wacker’s mustache (which was recently tamed from a Guy Fawkes-type stache to a more respectable – and less anarchistic – Tom Selleck-type), it is possible that he is more in tune with the modern trends of the day and hey, what do I know, maybe the short shorts are making a comeback this year?
Yes, this was created with MS Paint.
Back at the flag, there was a surprisingly large group milling about. Most noticeable were all the 2.0’s. It was great to see the Baby Yoda, Pope, and Pixie Stick (along with Grover, who is now a fixture at most beatdowns) posting alongside their fathers. Also of note, the (second) return of Backdraft, who’s already committed to leading in the near future.
Warmorama: Good mornings, torso twists, IWs, toe touches, SSHs, merkins, shoulder taps, high knees, all at or around 15x IC.
Somewhere around the SSH’s, Sparky shows up. Turns out Bushwacker does not stand alone in his love of Magnum P.I.
The Thang:
Simple enough opening routine: Lt. Dan’s to the gazebo. Which, okay, yes, is about 400 yards. And felt longer. But at least the guys had some time to catch up.
Next, Core COP: The Bruce Lee. We’d do all six exercises, x20 IC, then take a 30 second break:
Hammers
Leg Raises
LBCs
Heel Touches
Crunchy Frogs
100’s
Rinse & Repeat. Initially we were going to do three rounds, but honestly, YHC can’t multitask – I can either call out cadence for 6 routines or I can suffer through them properly, but doing both proved too much for a third round. So onward to the bridge!
Partner up for a Dora:
P1 runs up and over the bridge and back to swap with P2, who begins knocking out the cumulative reps of:
100 Merkin Toe Touches
200 Freak Nasties
300 Squats
Nearly out of time, YHC called it so we could make it back to the flag promptly. Double lined Indian Run back to the flag, where we closed it out with a quick set of Jane Fonda’s.
Countdown, namerama, and welcoming of FNG Pixie Stick!
Grover closed us out in a prayer of thanks and everyone set out to coffeteria. YHC feels blessed to have this group of men pushing me to be a better version of myself. It felt good to be back out there with such a large group (25 men!), and to see the gift of F3 passed on to so many 2.0’s. Thank you men for the opportunity to lead!
From Goose: As the PAX circled in the light of a cold Saturday morning, YHC received for the first time as Q the focused look of many men trying to guess the type and magnitude of the pain they’re about to endure. And, though the beatdown wasn’t an overwhelming challenge for most, it was certainly a different experience than they could have guessed.
Warm-ups consisted of IC: SSH, Seal Jacks, Windmills, toe touches, high knees, and butt kicks.
The Thang was varied and sundry:
First, moseyed to the small open field area before the gazebo and broke into two teams of eight, then into groups of four facing each other about 10 yards apart for 6 rounds of shuttle runs using small cones for moveables. Each round was followed by decreasing numbers of burpees and big-boy sit-ups.
Then, moseyed about half a mile away from the flag, just over the bridge to a larger open field. Here, in honor of Valentine’s Day, we all got a little closer with some touchy-feely quality time.
This started with the Tunnel of Love during which all PAX lined up shoulder to shoulder in plank position while the man on the end army crawled through the tunnel followed by the next until all had wormed their way through and all jokes about overhead clearance were exhausted.
We then flipped onto our 6 for the Bridge of Hate: all PAX lying shoulder to shoulder as the man on the end lowers himself onto the row of eager hands to be passed, crowd-surfing style, to the end. Each man endured the slow, sloppy process, though wardrobes threatened to malfunction, and the use of knees became necessary to move more than a few men. (Grover, however, being last, was shot like a javelin down the line.)
This was followed by Three Amigos: the PAX split into groups of three, and each group stood back to back, linked arms, and dropped into a chair-sit position. They then walked in that position about ten yards, completed five copperhead squats together, and squat-walked back.
We finished in that field with four rounds of exercises (50 LBC’s, 40 SSH, 30 jump squats, and 20 Merkins) each followed by a forty yard sprint into a ten yard army crawl.
We moved back to flag using a lighter version of a Bataan Death March: Indian Run with the last man stopping and doing three burpees before catching up, tapping the new last man (so he can stop and do burpees), and running to the front. The line was long and the distance short, so most only had one round, but with the time left at the flag, we completed one round of vacuum cleaners and a couple of side-plank domino/waves in a circle.
Vacuum cleaners: partner 1 holds partner 2’s legs wheelbarrow-style and moves forward ten yards where partner 1 does 5 Derkins, then moves backwards in the same position to the start before flapjacking. Communication was key for this one, and hand-walking backwards was unexpectedly brutal.
COT, Count, Name, and Maverick prayed us out.
Thanks to all who posted for this VQ! It’s truly an honor to journey with this crew!
Was it as epic as expected? You bet. There were packs of wild dogs, gators lying in wait in the shallow ditches of Abita Springs, machete-wielding vagabonds hiding under the overpass, and, of course, 9 pairs of utterly destroyed feet.
As you might expect, this group of men started out strong. After a quick COT where Tank prayed us in with blessings and thoughts of safety, we set out. At this point there was still a good deal of revelry happening on Girod Street, where Sips of the Season was winding down and more than a few men were teetering in and out of bars. Caught one doing the sidewalk, using the hedges to try and keep upright. Little did we know we’d have roughly the same gait by the end of the night.
But we passed the revelry with a smile and a bounce in our step, ready to tackle the road ahead. Gideon – the Navy Seal of Netflix and Pizza – got the party started with a killer mix, and we were off. Running now at a brisk pace, more than a few of us looked around and wondered, “Wait, didn’t we say we were walking this thing?”
Getting to the Abita Trailhead (approx 9.5 miles in) was relatively quick. Took a short break (with open facilities near midnight, no less), and forged ahead. Now here’s where things started getting dicey. Jose and Moby had decided early on that they’d keep at a brisk walking pace, and so the rest of the overzealous gang started seeing a bit of separation from them. A few of us would run back and check in but eventually they seemed to be going pretty steady, and so everyone just kept moving. Shortly after hitting the Abita trailhead, the trace goes pretty dark, a little less residential, and a lot more wooded. Being the merry band of travelers that we were, we happened to rouse a few wild dogs in the woods. Tank was in the lead when the barking began, and when it was clear they were following us, he quickly circled back to the group ready for war. The dogs stayed with us for a block or so, obscured by the woods, with Tank flashing his lights in and catching the glint of at least 5 pairs of eyes. As you can imagine, Tank was fired up. He flipped his headlamp into strobe mode (hoping to give our canine friends a seizure, or at the very least some confusion), Speedy pulled out a small knife, and there was a good half hour discussion on the weapons that would need to be crafted for the return trip through that section (Spears, bats with barbed wire, you get the idea). The dogs probably sensed all the testosterone and fell back as we forged ahead. (Either that or they were simply residential dogs behind a wire fence that couldn’t we couldn’t see, but hey, not a theory YHC was ready to verify!)
Soon thereafter we reached The Gipper and collectively felt pretty darn good about ourselves. Roughly halfway and everyone was still feeling fresh. Moby had been picked up by Vickie in Abita Springs and it was time to check in with Jose, who had now been traveling solo for a few miles. Tank was quite worried about the pack of wild dogs, and sent Jose an urgent text message warning him of the dangers ahead. Unfortunately, some other “Richard” in Tank’s address book would be receiving that midnight message about the wild dogs of Abita, os Tank was not wearing his reading glasses at the time. For some reason, YHC imagines that other Richard will not be that surprised.
Hammer kept it old school and broke out the Big League Chew, and after another short break, the men turned back to head for Mandeville. Covington turned out to be just as active as Girod street had been hours ago – and, with all the drunken revelry surrounding us, more than a few men were reminded of the time we bear crawled down Bourbon Street for the Grow Ruck.
Apparently Jose had turned on the heat after passing Abita as we caught him just a few yards shy of the infamous Butter Krisp and, for a brief moment, the group was in tact. At some point YHC got a little too close to a gator, who’s loud dash into the ditch sent me nearly knocking over Wacker. (A scene reminiscent of that Captain Sparkles surprise attack at the Scramble.).
Tank, Jose, and YHC eventually slowed down while the rest of the gang moved onward at a steady clip.
Jose was undaunted by all Frank’s talk of rabid dogs, and in fact, he started heckling them as we got close. Tank tried to quiet him and Jose said hey, if a dog attacked him, he’d sue the hell out of the owners. Tank explained that it was a poor area and he probably wouldn’t get much. Jose said, “That’s fine, I’ll liquidate their assets.”
Tank’s reply?
“I’ll liquidate those dogs’ nuts if I have to.” Cue the grunting and strobing headlamps.
Meanwhile, Speedy hit a physical and mental wall at Koop Drive and wasn’t sure he’d be able to continue. The men stopped to support him, but not for long, as Speedy drew down deep, found some reserves, and pushed ahead.
Tank, Jose and I made it through Abita without incident, and, after telling the legend of the machete man who lives under the overpass, we started approaching Koop Dr. Once there, Jose told Tank and I to turn it on, that he’d be fine the rest of the way.
Took a bit to catch up with the rest of the men, who had adopted a new strategy in our absence – run a song / walk a song. This was a total crapshoot with Gideon’s mix, knowing that there’d an 8-minute Rebirth song hitting at some point. But it was a great distraction and we quickly found our way to Grandmother’s tunnel for a photo op, before hitting the Mandeville trailhead.
Another break, Butt Splice bandaged a badly blistered foot, and onward we went.
It all got a bit blurry at this point, but here are a few things I remember: Tank and Bush passing me at the lakefront for their final mile, doing it at an under 8 minute pace; the heroic image of Speedy, who thought he was done 10 miles back, running to Survivor with fists in the air to the finish line; Splice, feet wounded but patiently awaiting the sunrise that would bring his hour-long Q.
The entire group finally laid out on the lakefront lawn, just in time for Garfield to show up, stretching for the a Saturday morning pre-thang. To no one’s surprise, Tank ran the pre-thang like he hadn’t just run/walked 33 miles. And then, Splice Q’d the hourlong beatdown like the beast that he is, and unabashedly included many, many box jumps.
33 miles. 1/3 of our final goal, and it was hard. Really hard. The road ahead to the hundo is dark, and yet because of you guys, YHC is undaunted. This night made us stronger, more prepared, and more knowledgeable. Most of all, it made us realize the incredible fortitude of the men around us. Success or failure, Hundo, here we come.
It was a dark and stormy morning… Considering those conditions, and it being mid-week, YHC glad to see such a strong turn out of 11. To our good fortune, the rain broke (for a bit). A few PAX did their usual Pre-Thang mile run, then we circled up.
Warm Ups: Good Mornings, Toe Touches, Imperial Walkers, Hill Billies, Arm Circles.
The Thang:
Pax mosied over to the court house parking lot and did “Ascending Curb Crawls.” OYO, PAX Bear crawled to other side, turned & placed feet on curb and completed 1 derkin, crawled back and completed 2 derkins, and continued to 13. Moans and groans were heard almost immediately, and YHC took mental note as one of the PAX mentioned that on another occasion, the routine was done as “Descending” Curb Crawls, where merkins would decrease instead of increase.
Next PAX mosied over to the parking garage where we partnered up and completed a modified “Burp Back Mountain.” Partner 1 proceeded to run backwards 1/2 way up the garage ramp and sprint forward back down, while partner 2 performed burpees. Partners continue to flapjack until 50 (modified from 100) total burpees were completed.
Next PAX mosied to the front steps of the courthouse. OYO, PAX did merkins up the courthouse steps, did 5 Rocky Balboa’s at the top, and ran down the ramp around to the beginning. Pax Repeated 4 times changing the exercise up the steps each time. (1. Merkins, 2. Bunny Hops, 3. Squats, 4. Freak Nasties).
(Began to rain)
Next PAX did the “Burpee 1/2 Mile” (Modified from “Burpee Mile”). Total of 24 Burpees, 1/2 Mile. Pax did 6 Burpees, ran 1/4 mile x 2.
At this point, one of the PAX feeling a bit sluggish confessed his Oreo habit, and soon others admitted some of their own indulgences.
Finally, PAX mosied back to the flag to do some MARY under the pavillion out of the rain.
Count O Name O.
Shooter prayed us out.
Later in the day, YHC was glad to get a text from an F3 Brother giving some kudos on the beatdown, saying the combination of burpees and bear crawls made the work out brutal, but that he liked it. Glad to hear someone got their money’s worth and was challenged, as YHC is usually behind in the game.
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.
Like the men of F3, Waffle House plans for the expected, but is prepared for the unexpected.
