Tag: The Gipper

Picture this: a crisp morning, the perfect time to not only crush some cardio but also question school board decisions, state decisions, soccer referees, basically life problems. Time for 11’s. Start off with 10 burpees at the front of the courthouse. Each burpee felt like gravity itself was personally offended that we dared to rise from the ground.

Once we peeled ourselves off the pavement, we “ran” (more like shuffled) to the stairs. Now, these weren’t your average steps. Oh no, each one required three calf raises. Yes, three, because one just wasn’t enough to make our legs scream for mercy. Then, at the top, it was time for freddy mercury core exercises. Because who doesn’t want to feel like their abs are a pin cushion? It was here we found out how Hammer disregards referees instructions when it comes to Chainsaws wellbeing.

But wait, there’s more! We dashed down a ramp that might as well have been Everest, looped around the parking lot, and did it all over again. Why? For fitness? For glory? To solve the mysteries of life? No, not today. Hammer and I concluded that solving world problems was best left for the crew at the scramble tomorrow.. Today, we simply survived, and that was more than enough!

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It was a late night for YHC, having to work the gate for back to back volleyball games at Folsom. Hammer texted late which gave me the extra push to have my feet hit the floor this morning to workout. Turns out Hammer had a late night as well, playing basketball. I don’t know why, but I immediately thought of Will Ferrell in “Semi Pro”. It couldn’t escape me. So this backblast will continue accordingly…
It was the crack of dawn, and the scene was set for another episode of “Jackie Moon’s Morning Madness” featuring *Hammer*, a.k.a. the Will Ferrell of fitness. Imagine a towering figure, looking like he just stepped out of *Semi-Pro*, hair probably a little too wild, and the attitude of someone who thought this was a casual stroll to the local Denny’s but accidentally stumbled into a boot camp.

The route? Straight to the courthouse—because nothing says fitness like sprinting toward legal consequences. Once there, it’s not just your typical stair climb. Oh no, Hammer and his disciples decided hand-over-hand up the guard rails was the move. Maybe they thought they were auditioning for an action flick, or perhaps just figuring out how to avoid the cops they’d soon have to explain this to. Parkour was yesterdays theme at Grandma’s, so YHC decided to bring it to the courthous.

At the bottom of the stairs, it was time for some Bulgarian split squats and step-ups. Three rounds total between the rails and the exercises at the bottom. Why? Because “Jackie Moon” believes in *more*. More squats, more ridiculousness, and apparently more pretending we’re not about to pass out.

Then, a casual jog (with a strong undertone of regret) to the front of the courthouse for some dirkins (decline push-ups because regular push-ups aren’t punishing enough), penguins (flopping around pretending to work your abs), Freddy Mercury’s (because why not pay tribute to the legend mid-workout?), and *wife pleasers* (for reasons best left unexplained). All of this while Jackie Moon—sorry, Hammer—cheered us on with his infectious “You got this, baby! Feel the rhythm!”

Next up:3 calf raises for every single step to the top. By now, we’ve lost count of the number of steps, breaths, and poor life choices. And to top it off, we had to pull a Lt. Dan back to the courthouse, which basically means more lunges than any reasonable human should ever have to endure.

Finally, we moseyed back to the Gipper like exhausted, sweaty warriors, having faced the ultimate test: surviving Jackie Moon’s courthouse of pain.

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