Some weird planetary alignment threw us into an alternate universe this morning, and not a good one.
Cowbell showed up on time (which should’ve been our first sign that things were askew), immediately souring JV’s intention to “live his life gloriously” while Cowbell was away for a week. As the smile dropped from JV’s face, it was immediately picked up by Cowbell who came frolicking (yeah, frolicking) in with a noticeable twinkle in his eye and a pep in his step. You might think this was due to his impending wedding bliss, but no – apparently there’s some sort of college baseball finals going on right now.
Anyway, a super chatty warmorama caused YHC to abandon cadence counting for the first time in 5 years, before finally just calling it and heading to the stage for the intended circuit routine.
Now the night before, Bushwacker had texted Jose and me that today – the first official day of summer (yeah, right) – there would be a dazzling planetary alignment: five planets in an arc, with the crescent moon situated somewhere in the middle. So, once in the grassy knoll at the foot of the stage, we looked up. But it was difficult to see anything beyond the thick swarm of bats that had suddenly blotted out the sky. Seriously, it was like Old Testament Egypt out at the amphitheater this morning.
One grazed JV’s face, which prompted a quick swat and a, “Get outta here.” But when one buzzed Cowbell’s face, mid-jumping rope, he let out a howl and nearly fell off the stage. Not wanting to bring Ebola or SARS down to Key West for his wedding, Cowbell was not happy about these bats. (JV, though, happily added this incident, along with Cowbell’s tire pull efforts, to his list of ammo for those occasions when he needs to defend himself.)
Oh yeah, and we were doing some exercises out there, too: jumping rope, curls, plank toe taps with resistance bands, freak nasties, flutters, planks, hand release merkins, squat thrusters, etc, with occasional runs hoping the swarm would dissipate.
But bats were only the first plague that descended on us this morning. The second, and arguably worse, was mosquitos. I guess it didn’t help that we were lying around in the grass complaining instead of doing said exercises, but those suckers were eating us alive. Eventually, we had the sense to move to another area that had fans going.
All in all, there was a lot of grumbling, and in a weird reversal that must’ve been due to Jupiter’s third moon ascending, it was everyone BUT Jose who was complaining. I’m telling you, bad omens all over the place at Granny’s this morning.
Some things that we complained about: obviously, bats, mosquitos, proper jump rope technique (double jumps??), Bypass (ok, ok – Jose did contribute a little here), airline security lines, and Richard Simmons being the most important Brother Martin alum.
YHC nearly went over because, apparently, time flies when you’re being attacked by nature and having a good gripe session. COT, nameorama, and Jose prayed us out, with intentions for Cowbells wedding and everyone’s safe travels down there.
Reminder, a few CSAUP’s coming up: Goose and Paradox’s St. Vincent 500 in Thibodeaux, Hammer’s yet-to-be-named standing guard at the CPC, and, of course, the fast-approaching Gnarly Nutria. Thanks guys for the entertaining morning, always appreciate getting stronger with you all.
