A number of the PAX were with their wives on a married couples’ retreat with YHC over the weekend at Lumen Christi, and the rest of the PAX were gracious enough to meet us there at 6am for the official Saturday beatdown. The morning had already started with a number of awesome surprises:
1. Two of the non-F3 retreatants came out after seemingly no interest shown the day before, one of whom had driven down from St. Louis. YHC happened to pack the trophy F3 St. Louis shirt won during the 2022 Make America Burpee Again CSAUP, and I only remembered that it was in my bag when he showed up that morning. It was an awesome “coincidence”, and the newly minted “Photoshop” will now be properly attired when he posts back home.
2. A tall, dark, hooded being crept up silently in the cold darkness and refused to answer requests for identification until YHC recognized him when he was only about 10 feet away. Enron was ready to jump the stranger, but his wide smile and goofy laugh revealed the last Cotter we expected to see that morning–it was Cutthroat! After from swearing off F3, hills, and anything non-crossfit, he couldn’t fight that feeling anymore, and he was ready to battle the snakes, ant piles, and elevation that only this AO could deliver.
3. Ben Naquin, to be later named “Prius”, caved to his brother-in-law, Fence Post’s pressure to get busy livin’, and despite a helluva tough year including some new physical limitations, powered out an incredible first beatdown with tenacity and perseverance matched by few.
The joy of the 12 PAX at such a great showing was palpable, and the warmup was executed with high energy–a lot of the usuals with no arms; YHC’s shoulder is still needing some rest, so it would be lots of legs and abs today!
The theme that would carry us through the day was the same as the retreat: Domestic Church–particularly the 7 commitments each couple chooses to improve upon over the course of their journey: individual prayer, prayer with Scripture, couple prayer, family prayer, couple dialogue, rule of life, and an annual retreat.
Started with a combined individual prayer/prayer with Scripture, which was represented by an Indian run around the campus with the last guy dropping off for three genuflections before sprinting to the front of the line. Just like individual prayer, you gotta break the rhythm of the day to stop what you’re doing and hit your knees–it’s not gonna happen on its own!
We stopped on top of the hill for couple prayer and partnered up for a lazy Dora. Each “couple” went back and forth offering their “prayers” in the form of splitting duty on 100 wife pleasers (the non-“praying” partner held bridge), 200 squats (other partner held Al Gore), and 300 flutter kicks (other partner held 6 inches). It was only later in the day, once the sun was up, that many of the PAX were able to see just how many ant piles were on that hill–it was truly a miracle no one laid in one or more and got munched. It really looked like we were all clear in the darkness of the gloom.
Next was family prayer–a ring of fire with all PAX doing constant smurf jacks to represent a bunch of active kids waiting their turn to pray, or in this case, squat jump. We made it to 50 before YHC called it to make time for couple dialogue.
Any Domestic Church veteran will tell you that couple dialogue, though typically a sleeper, is the secret sauce. This is where the real money is, where the major growth happens for the couples who take advantage of it. A couple dialogue allows a couple to make measurable progress–it takes time an effort, but if you don’t give up early, it’ll change you. It would be no different this morning–the memories and the PTSD would center around this routine: 11’s over the hill. We started on the lake side with 10 Apolo Onos and on the other did 1 gas pump–next time was 9 and 2 and so on until finishing at 1 Ono and 10 gas pumps. Transportation was nurring (running backward) up and running down (both ways). It was the nur. The nur uphill caused YHC to think more than once about calling this one early, and more than once I checked my watch to see if time would give me an excuse, but we were going too fast. Paradiddle and Wet Tap wouldn’t let YHC ease up without it being obvious–we were in it together, all in, or not at all. I’m grateful for those dudes, per usual, and for their tenacity and companionship, cuz there was no place for a tired, self-pitying Goose to hide, so I didn’t miss out on the chance for some solid growth in mental toughness.
Huge T-claps to the two FNG’s (and Cutthroat, too) for their staying with this one–it was designed assuming we’d have nothing but veterans out there this morning, but these guys never gave up!
Side-note–a few minutes into this is when another stranger emerged out of the gloom, this time with a bouncing phone flashlight, and tried to just enter the fray unnoticed, but his off-color, plant-worker humor gave him away, as did the 6:40 arrival time–typical Goats in the machine arrival time is 5-10 minutes late, but this time, his Lenten lack of social media usage made him 40 minutes late (didn’t check GroupMe), so he promised to do some Doras at home. Good to have you, Goats, regardless of how long we get you!
We ended on the far side of the hill for rule of life and the annual retreat. For rule of life, we picked on of YHC’s household rules, no phones on the toilet. This was represented by 15 mountain man poopers, increasing in speed as the reps increased representing how quickly YHC can get in and out of the bathroom now.
The retreat is a chance for us to pack up our wives and kids and drag them to a far off location in hopes that it will do us some good. So, we grabbed our partners and piggy-backed them up the hill, then dropped them, ran down, and flapjacked. This is where the highlight of the morning happened–Ben (“Prius”) was first carried by Superfun(d), who is not a small man, but when they flapjacked, YHC assumed there would be some modifications, but once Smooth dropped me at the top and I turned around, there was Ben, moving quick up the hill, a determined smile on his face. All our legs were dead at this point, but he wanted to see if he could do it. His digging deep blew the whole PAX away, and they erupted, cheering wildly as he topped the hill with his mustached rider. It was a thing of beauty.
We moseyed back to the flag for 7 minutes of Mary, 20 IC of the following: crunchy frogs, leg raises, J-Lo’s, pickle pounders (excellent mumblechatter from Cutthroat and Cardinal about potential publicity issues with this), and Jane Fondas to go with Yankee Joe’s Donna Summers comments. Held plank for the last minute, and then called it.
COT with some FNG naming fun, the Animal shirt going to the indomitable Paradiddle, and then Superfun(d) prayed us out. It was an awesome addition to the retreat, and another great shot in the arm for the F3 Thibodaux crew.
SYTIG,
Goose
