Ruck for 45 minutes in the rain: that’s about it–if you’re counting time. But life’s a journey.
So after Cowbell ditched his Q to stay an extra day at Orange Beach, and after Da Parish texted at 5:04 that he would be fartsacking (dude, you’re already up!), and after Rudy was fearing that he might even like the Green Eggs and Ham if he tried it, and after an apparent loss of the Red Pill amongst others, an intrepid PAX of two showed up in the rain for a nice stroll along Bayou St. John with their rucks.
When you’re rucking, the F1 is on autopilot, so the F2 kicks into gear. A nice chat about life. The rain stopped when we finished: I love the rain in late spring. A great time for a beatdown.
Prayers for Fracsac’s father who begins radiation treatment.
Jingle Vader
