It was a frigid morning as YHC pulled in much earlier than normal due to a lack of 2.0’s and the need to place a marker board by the track without being seen. I didn’t want the PAX to see it before it was time–no need to ruin a beautiful morning sooner than necessary. YHC expected to sit in a warm truck for at least a few minutes before Paradox would inevitably break the solitude with the beginnings of a solid hour of chatter. But, not this morning–Smooth Operator pulled in just a few seconds behind YHC with two young 2.0’s in a blanketed wagon. Jack Be Nimble and Tractor jumped out into the frigid morning ready to rock, showing the same joyful readiness as big Smooth. As more PAX rolled in (including Major Brat!), there was still no sign of Paradox, and YHC began to wonder if he had slipped in an announcement of being out of town at the end of Thursday’s beatdown (brain function tends to leak out with the steam coming off YHC’s head). But, he pulled in with two minutes to spare and Enron right behind him looking like he wanted to fight–Enron was smiling, but road rage was in his eyes as it seemed the usual competitive jostling had started on the way to the beatdown.
The much needed warmup began with the usuals plus some Willie Mays Hayes for the cold, tight lower backs. Then, we moseyed to the track/field to reveal contents of the board. The Quarter Mile Ladder was the title under which was written a list of exercises. At first, the PAX thought we’d have an enjoyable opportunity to log some miles and some quality time, assuming that we were going to be doing one exercise at a time with a leisurely lap between each. Wouldn’t that be nice. For our wives.
No, that’s not how a ladder works. We’d start with the first exercise, 5 burpees, followed by a lap (quarter mile), then add the next, so 5 burpees and 10 merkins, followed by a lap. Then, 5 burpees, 10 merkins, and 15 lunges (2:1) followed by a lap, ultimately working our way up to 10 total exercises followed by a tenth lap. Here’s the list:
5 burpees
10 merkins
15 lunges (2:1)
20 mountain climbers (2:1)
25 Freddy Mercs
30 squats
35 Peter Parkers (1:1)
40 Big Boy Situps
45 Side Straddle Hops
50 Shoulder Taps (1:1)
When YHC saw Paradiddle pull in (on Bourg time), I knew this one would be right up his alley, so I was happy to sidle up next to him on the first lap and stay in pace for the duration. Running seems as easy as breathing for him, so YHC knew I’d be pushed but also be distracted from the drudgery by some solid conversation. It was clear that many of the PAX had entered a dark place after the first lap or so, so YHC suggested pacing with a partner, which seemed to give a few guys a shot in the arm. But, nothing could’ve boosted the morale more effectively than a spontaneous serenade from Tractor. Smooth had been hauling the two boys around the track in the luxury wagon for about 30 minutes to a constant stream of encouraging/shaming shouts of “Come on, Dad! You can do it! Push harder! COME ON! You’re taking forever! What’s wrong with you?” And, while waiting for super-dad to finish his Peter Parkers, Tractor started belting out “Hakuna Matata” (or something close enough to that), and the cute innocence combined with the irony of hearing a bunch of grown men singing along, “it means no worries…” as they fought for breath and poured their sweat (and blood–Paradox) into the track, deeply dreading the next lap, couldn’t have been more perfectly timed. It was incredible, and it likely kept a number of the guys from spiraling into a deep, dark solitude.
YHC was initially worried about finishing too early, but instead found that I was yearning for 7:30 to provide sweet relief. It seemed, however, that the ladder was crafted a little too perfectly, and YHC rolled into the last turn with nothing left in the tank and seconds left on the clock. The rest of the PAX came flying in and collapsed, breathless but grateful to have finished what looked at first to be an extremely unattractive exercise routine.
The brotherhood, as we slow moseyed back to the flag carrying layers of clothing, was deeply felt, wrought by a unique experience of mutual suffering on a cold but beautiful morning. Providentially, this was also the morning Yankee Joe thought to bring the fixings of a solid coffeeteria, so we were gratefully able to remain in it for a while after COT. Even YHC partook of the enslaving brew, raising an insulated cup to this awesome fraternity forged in the fires of pain, humility, gratitude, and accomplishment.
Announcements included some ideas for an amazing Northshore convergence in April–stay tuned for more details, but we’re definitely gonna clown car up there for it if the date works.
Thanks, again, for the push and the camaraderie this morning, fellas!
SYITG,
Goose
