F3 New Orleans

Author: Rudy

  • Takin’ it to Das Streets – from America’s Best

    Sometime back in February, “the algorithm” presented to YHC a video of Klootschiten, a wintertime Dutch road-bowling game that includes pulling along a liquor wagon. It’s a team sport, with rules similar to golf, and the course is a series of roads. So, in the spirit of “everything is a beatdown,” it seemed like a good way to get some running in for a Tuesday during RCR… but the full Q sheet pushed it into March. Instead of a wagon, one team member would haul a coupon. And before each throw, the team would do the number of burpees corresponding to which number throw they are on. The man with the coupon would do 2x curls instead.

    On Kloot-day, however, YHC’s back was tweaked, so I opted to alternate Goosies on the even numbers. And when you get to throw number 20… no, 10, you start over at one again. You know what, let’s make it 20.

    But first, Goose requested trivia. And we had a downranger MerMan to impress…
    So, what are the 3 main countries who participate in this sport?
    YHC pronounced “Klootschiten” with the hardest, most severe German accent I could force. Of course, Goose’s first guess was “Ireland.” Which was correct.
    Yankee Jeaux obviously knew the answer, but apparently all he heard was a challenge, and could only chatter back a seemingly unending string of Germanic jibberish.
    Still, after 5 penalty burpees, YHC counted that as a correct answer.
    Montana rounded out the correct answers with The Netherlands. The man was burned by those Aldi cookies, and now knows that things inspired by Germany may actually be Dutch.

    Teams were formed and off we went. Team Goose-Dox-Merman cleverly threw their kloot under the dumpster early, so they could not hear (ignore) an important rules change that would undoubtedly change the course of Kloot history forever.
    Sometimes you get a feeling that Goose is going to beat you, but what can you do? I’ll tell you what you can do—you don’t just roll over and let it happen. No, what you do is you make the rules ambiguous enough, or you change them enough times that Goose accidentally cheats.
    And so the righteous teams did probably like 3 times more burpees and Goosies and curls, but Team Green was gracious enough to come back and pick up the losers.
    While two teams were still hammering away on the course, the other team was hanging out at the flag. YHC had a contingency plan. A reverse Dora was written on a cardboard box. 400 Imperial Walkers (MOT Fox Holes), 200 curls (MOT lunge walk), 100 WJs (MOT mosey). Team Yankee Popeye Pope was instructed to begin.
    But there was too much confusion about whether a backwards Dora could actually exist, or if there was some new reading style in which you read the bottom-to-top. The schism resulted in Popeye Imperial Walking Alone. (For the record, there is no language on Earth read bottom to top).

    YHC’s team limped into last place with time enough for a quick YJ favorite. With Lent nigh, it was time to “Give it Up.” YHC had spent an inadvisable amount of time selecting the right remix… but ultimately found one in which there are somewhere between 40 and 50 triggers, 75% of which occur in the last 30 seconds. So we held plank, merkined on each “give it up,” and mountain-climbed during any musical interludes. While most of the PAX were groaning, Yankee Joe was grinning, and at least once I swear I heard him mutter “my precious.” There has since been wild speculation of a YJ 45-minute “Give it Up Remix” BD.

    All that was left was a few minutes of Mary, primarily to answer the burning question “What does WJ stand for?!?!”

    COT
    Push up Pimp was transferred sub rosa from White Meat to Pope
    Goose prayed us out

    Always an honor to lead you men.
    SYITG,
    AB

  • Afternoon Delight – 3-5-2025 – from Almonaster

    We heard the Penguins were flying to the North Pole and decided to lay down on the banks of the Audubon Lagoons.

    The PAX were motivated to perform some Nickles and Dimes. 50 Penguins or Core exercise and 10 merkins, shoulder taps, or squats at each 3rd running man. We finished with Penguin Ring of Fire!!

    Subprime, Strings, Voila, Couch, Big Willie, Blowout, SOGO, and Almonaster

  • Takin’ it to the Streets – from America’s Best

    Sometime back in February, “the algorithm” presented to YHC a video of Klootschiten, a wintertime Dutch road-bowling game that includes pulling along a liquor wagon. It’s a team sport, with rules similar to golf, and the course is a series of roads. So, in the spirit of “everything is a beatdown,” it seemed like a good way to get some running in for a Tuesday during RCR… unfortunately the full Q sheet pushed it into March. Instead of a wagon, one team member would haul a coupon. And before each throw, the team would do the number of burpees corresponding to which number throw they are on. The man with the coupon would do 2x curls instead.

    On Kloot-day, however, YHC’s back was tweaked, so I opted to alternate Goosies on the even numbers. And when you get to throw number 20… no, 10, you start over at one again. You know what, let’s make it 20.

    But first, Goose requested trivia. And we needed to show downranger MerMan what we are all about? So, what are the 3 main countries who participate in this sport?

    YHC pronounced “Klootschiten” with the hardest, most severe German accent I could force. Of course, Goose’s first guess was “Ireland.” Which was correct.
    Yankee Jeaux obviously knew the answer, but apparently all he heard was a challenge, and could only chatter back a seemingly unending string of Germanic jibberish.
    Still, after 5 penalty burpees, YHC counted that as a correct answer.
    Montana rounded out the correct answers with The Netherlands. The man was burned by those Aldi cookies, and now knows that things inspired by Germany may actually be Dutch.

    Teams were formed and off we went. Team Goose-Dox-Merman cleverly threw their kloot under the dumpster early, so they could not hear (ignore) an important rules change that would undoubtedly change the course of Kloot history forever.
    Sometimes you get a feeling that Goose is going to beat you, but what can you do? I’ll tell you what you can do—you don’t just roll over and let it happen. No, what you do is you make the rules ambiguous enough, or you change them enough times that Goose accidentally cheats.
    And so the righteous teams did probably like 3 times more burpees and Goosies and curls, but Team Green was gracious enough to come back and pick up the losers.
    While two teams were still hammering away on the course, the other team was hanging out at the flag. YHC had a contingency plan. A reverse Dora was written on a cardboard box. 400 Imperial Walkers (MOT Fox Holes), 200 curls(MOT lunge walk), 100 WJ(Wheezy Jeffersons) (MOT mosey). Team Yankee Popeye Pope was instructed to begin.
    But there was too much confusion about whether a backwards Dora could actually exist, or if there was some new reading style in which you read the bottom-to-top. The schism left Popeye Imperial Walking alone. (For the record, there is no language on Earth read bottom to top).
    YHC’s team limped into last place with time enough for a quick YJ favorite. With Lent nigh, it was time to “Give it Up.” YHC had spent an inadvisable amount of time selecting the right remix… but found one in which there are somewhere between 40 and 50 triggers, 75% of which occur in the last 30 seconds. So held plank and merkined on each “Give it Up,” mountain climbing during any instrumental breaks. While most of the PAX were groaning, Yankee Joe was grinning, and at least once I swear I hear him mutter “my precious.” There since has been wild speculation of a YJ 45-minute “Give it Up Remix” BD.
    All that was left was a few minutes of Mary, primarily to answer the burning question “what does WJ stand for?!?!”

    COT
    WM conveyed Push up Pimp sub rosa to Pope
    Goose prayed us out

    Thanks men, always an honor to lead.
    SYITG,
    AB

  • Takin’ it to the Streets – from America’s Best

    Sometime back in February, “the algorithm” presented to YHC a video of Klootschiten, a wintertime Dutch road-bowling game that includes pulling along a liquor wagon. It’s a team sport, with rules similar to golf, and the course is a series of roads. So, in the spirit of “everything is a beatdown,” it seemed like a good way to get some running in for a Tuesday during RCR… unfortunately the full Q sheet pushed it into March. Instead of a wagon, one team member would haul a coupon. And before each throw, the team would do the number of burpees corresponding to which number throw they are on. The man with the coupon would do 2x curls instead.

    On Kloot-day, however, YHC’s back was tweaked, so I opted to alternate Goosies on the even numbers. And when you get to throw number 20… no, 10, you start over at one again. You know what, let’s make it 20.

    But first, Goose requested trivia. And we needed to show downranger MerMan what we are all about? So, what are the 3 main countries who participate in this sport?

    YHC pronounced “Klootschiten” with the hardest, most severe German accent I could force. Of course, Goose’s first guess was “Ireland.” Which was correct.
    Yankee Jeaux obviously knew the answer, but apparently all he heard was a challenge, and could only chatter back a seemingly unending string of Germanic jibberish.
    Still, after 5 penalty burpees, YHC counted that as a correct answer.
    Montana rounded out the correct answers with The Netherlands. The man was burned by those Aldi cookies, and now knows that things inspired by Germany may actually be Dutch.

    Teams were formed and off we went. Team Goose-Dox-Merman cleverly threw their kloot under the dumpster early, so they could not hear (ignore) an important rules change that would undoubtedly change the course of Kloot history forever.
    Sometimes you get a feeling that Goose is going to beat you, but what can you do? I’ll tell you what you can do—you don’t just roll over and let it happen. No, what you do is you make the rules ambiguous enough, or you change them enough times that Goose accidentally cheats.
    And so the righteous teams did probably like 3 times more burpees and Goosies and curls, but Team Green was gracious enough to come back and pick up the losers.
    While two teams were still hammering away on the course, the other team was hanging out at the flag. YHC had a contingency plan. A reverse Dora was written on a cardboard box. 400 Imperial Walkers (MOT Fox Holes), 200 curls(MOT lunge walk), 100 WJ(Wheezy Jeffersons) (MOT mosey). Team Yankee Popeye Pope was instructed to begin.
    But there was too much confusion about whether a backwards Dora could actually exist, or if there was some new reading style in which you read the bottom-to-top. The schism left Popeye Imperial Walking alone. (For the record, there is no language on Earth read bottom to top).
    YHC’s team limped into last place with time enough for a quick YJ favorite. With Lent nigh, it was time to “Give it Up.” YHC had spent an inadvisable amount of time selecting the right remix… but found one in which there are somewhere between 40 and 50 triggers, 75% of which occur in the last 30 seconds. So held plank and merkined on each “Give it Up,” mountain climbing during any instrumental breaks. While most of the PAX were groaning, Yankee Joe was grinning, and at least once I swear I hear him mutter “my precious.” There since has been wild speculation of a YJ 45-minute “Give it Up Remix” BD.
    All that was left was a few minutes of Mary, primarily to answer the burning question “what does WJ stand for?!?!”

    COT
    WM conveyed Push up Pimp sub rosa to Pope
    Goose prayed us out

    Thanks men, always an honor to lead.
    SYITG,
    AB

  • Ladder of Trust: A chilly reunion! – from Jose10k

    On an extra chilly, windy morning, a solid group of men gathered for a high-intensity, no-weights workout. The crew was expecting a few “leggers” to show up, and Moby and BBQ made their return, adding to the morning’s energy. Darkwing Duck made a rare January appearance, earning himself the title of the new Punxsutawney Phil—since he saw his shadow and disappeared for another six weeks.

    The workout kicked off with a long, informal warm-up. The count was all over the place, but the group took the time to catch up—especially with BBQ, who hadn’t been around for a while.

    Once warmed up, the real work began with a ladder circuit:
    1. Sumo Squats (10 reps) → Run a lap
    2. Lunges (10 reps, 2=1) → Back to sumo squats → Run another lap
    3. Monkey Humpers → Repeat previous exercises → Lap
    4. Freak Nasties
    5. Dirkens
    6. Stone Mountains
    7. Diamond Merkins

    The group pushed through as many rounds as possible before circling up for a 10-minute core finisher, which included the must-have Wife Pleasers—a crowd favorite.

    Closing:
    BBQ led the COT (Circle of Trust) and closed in prayer, with special attention given to all the new grandbabies in his group, making sure those extra grandbabies are well cared for. Just a bunch of old guys discussing the world as always!

    A strong, cold, and windy morning well spent—thanks for the leadership, and see you on the flip side!

  • Mardi Gras Madness: A Leg Day to Remember – from Jose10k

    Five brave (or foolish) souls decided that the best way to celebrate Mardi Gras morning was not with king cake and mimosas, but with a leg workout that left us questioning why we didn’t sleep in. With rucksacks strapped on—because why not add extra suffering?—we kicked off the festivities with a warm-up, complete with Mardi Gras music to trick our bodies into thinking this was fun.

    Then came the main event: sprinting (or some variation of fast waddling) up the stairs (Grundy led the pax as per the usual, he legit sprinted), looping around the lighthouse, and then executing a flawless Lieutenant Dan back to the start. Three glorious laps of this, because we believe in suffering together.

    Next, we moseyed over for step-ups—ten per leg—just in case our quads weren’t already on fire. Then it was off to the bus stop for a delightful mix of Irkins and Freak Nasties, because I honestly was making up shit as I walked. I was tired.

    With our legs now resembling overcooked spaghetti, we weaved our way through a slalom run, hit some calf raises up and down, and finished strong with 15 minutes of core work, ensuring that every inch of our bodies would hate us tomorrow. Jane Fondas (Steve’s version of them, on steriods). Wife pleasers with a long pause, followed by pulses as well. “It’s the best way to dry out the taint.”

    And just like that, the beatdown was over. It’s been awhile since I actually saw an end to a Granny Beatdown. It felt odd and awkward actually typing that last sentence. Russo prayed us out, and we stumbled off to see what parades (if any) were still rolling in the wind. Thanks for letting me lead, and if your legs still function tomorrow, come join the fun at the Gipper for round three.

  • Bolti Gras, as in “Fat Bolt” – from Bolt

    YHC dared both a weigh in and the tape measure after work travel/boozing for 7 out of 8 weeks and thus my Lundi Gras was decided…but only bc Boo-Boo called for accountability in Slack! Had he not done so, the tweaked knee and plantar fasciitis would have been all the excuses needed to fartsack so to hedge against it, the response in Slack was affirm attendance and raise by way of taking the Q!
    Warmorama with intent to only feature Mardi Gras playlist until KB made a comment about the “diarrhea song” which required compliance to the pax wishes! Abe SLOWgodas, IW, GG, SSH, seal/OH claps, both Tie Fighters, Chinooks, MNC, self love followed by a slowsey to JPAX where the pax voted horizontal or vertical. Boo-boo and KB had 2-1 advantage so vertical meant the timer would run up the stairs and bear crawl down the ramp. The Dora was 100 dry docks, 200 reverse lunges 2:1, and 300 BBSU. Return to the flag for a song skip and 3 burpee penalty followed by an introduction to YHC’s 30-count invention: Shoulders, Knees, and Toes Plank as time ran out. COT, grateful for the men today and F3 everyday.

  • Burn it Out Like We Used to Do – from Goose

    YHC has greatly admired the incredible creativity that this Thibodaux PAX has continued to bring to the table week after week. The bar is set high, and it’s clear this crew is willing to put in solid prep work out of appreciation for their companions in the gloom. It’s unmatched by any other region YHC where has posted.

    However, this morning, YHC felt the need to focus on a few particular areas that need shoring up and decided to dial up a few classic burners to do the trick. Sometimes you gotta bring the bar down a little bit, you know? I mean, we can’t have guys posting in other places where they just pull routines from the Exicon and wonder why there aren’t any trivia questions, hidden cones, costumes, monologues, or Coupons of Unusual Size. We’ve got to know how to fit in a little bit.

    So, after a hefty warmup of the old faithfuls (this was day 1 of waking up without a painful memory of Thursday), we lined up for a fast-paced set of 11’s. Curls at one end, Big Boy Situps at the other, and carioca and side shuffles to get back and forth through the grass. (Our shoes and socks had been missing the moisture–you can’t let those get too dried out.)

    With the 30 min or so remaining, YHC blew the dust of the Deck-o-Death and explained that we’d be doing the classic D-o-D routine, which consists of an exercise assigned to each suit and the number of the card indicating the reps. No poker or battle or anything, we’d just take turns pulling the top card and completing the assigned exercises as follows:
    -Diamonds = tricep presses
    -Clubs = goblet squats
    -Hearts = coupon flutter kicks
    -Spades = manmakers
    -Aces = 50 Rocky Balboas on the curb (2:1)
    -Jokers = 20 coupon jump-overs (2:1)

    You have to have at least one exercise in the routine to make you dread that suit and add some drama as well as a healthy sprinkling of some tougher stuff. This morning, however, the drama turned into tragedy. Despite the deck having never been used for any actual card games, you’d have thought YHC’s kids had used it recently to play “Spades, Spades, and More Spades”. So, the weak attempt at shuffling did little to stem the unending tide of manmakers that washed over the PAX. It was punctuated every now and then by Rocky Balboas, which gave the PAX a chance to River Dance their pain away, but somehow the spades multiplied while we were at the curb. There was no official count, but AB is pretty sure there were at least three Queens and seven 7’s of spades drawn. Things were getting dangerous. The spades seemed to be gaining intelligence as they multiplied. Thankfully, they lost their power once the clock registered 6:00am and we sealed them away in a sandwich bag.

    COT and Maneater revealed the newest embarrassing wearable, Proper Twelve. It’s a crop top with an whiskey brand on it that he caught at a parade. Not sure who was wearing it before it was thrown, but it was awarded to Smooth, who hopes he can comply with the HOA policy which requires that shirts must cover the nips while using shared facilities.

    AB prayed us out, and we shared our gratitude that he’ll be Q-ing tomorrow, which reduces the likelihood of manmakers substantially.

    SYITG,
    Goose

  • Shooter’s Bachelor Bootcamp: A Chilly Morning at the Marsh – from Jose10k

    Ah, the crisp morning air, the dim glow of streetlights, and the promise of pain—what better way to start the day? Expecting a quiet two-man showdown per the text, YHCarrived at the marsh at 5:10 AM, only to find Shooter had mustered enough curiosity (or poor judgment) to join. And so, the workout began.

    The warm-up was a mere formality before we hit the streets, where every stop sign became a monument to suffering:
    • 10 Diamond Merkins (because regular ones aren’t miserable enough)
    • 20 Squats (YHC gift to our quads)
    • 30 LBCs or Penguins (because variety is the spice of life—or at least of core destruction)

    And, of course, we ran to the next stop sign, repeating the cycle like a fitness-themed Groundhog Day.

    Conversations of the Morning:
    • Wild parades, because it’s Mardi Gras season and nothing is normal.
    • Shooter’s bachelor palace, which, based on descriptions, sounds part Vegas, part Animal House.
    • A freshly trimmed and washed Lil’ Rick James, who is presumably either a pet or a person that requires clarification.
    • Your humble correspondent’s experience of drunk brothers-in-law attempting to fight him at a 70th birthday party… because nothing says “Happy Birthday, Dad” like unsolicited family wrestling.

    The Lakefront Finale featured:
    • Stair sprints with two calf raises per step, ensuring we’d be walking funny all day.
    • Freak Nasties and Dirkens on the wall, which probably looked highly questionable to any passing joggers.
    • A final round of stop-sign suffering (this time with jump squats) before collapsing in the center of the court.

    And just like that, another Jose-led morning of mumbling, grumbling, and accidental life counseling came to an end. But fear not, because tomorrow brings another round—this time with rucks for extra fun.

    So rest up, stay safe in the Mardi Gras madness, and see you in the gloom. You’ll need the leg strength.

  • Captain Clean Up – from Jose10k

    Moby and I rolled up to the A1C like a couple of action heroes—minus the capes, plus a little extra wheezing. The morning was crisp, the motivation was questionable, but the mission was clear: burpees, squats, running, inclines, steps, slow squats (because why suffer quickly when you can suffer in slow motion?), and even some good old-fashioned trash pickup. Because nothing says “elite fitness” like doing lunges while holding a discarded fast-food cup.

    We weren’t just working out; we were upholding the honor of the A1C, ensuring it remained pristine for whatever parade was about to roll through. And in a stunning display of intelligence, we did it before said parade—because apparently, we love making things harder for ourselves. But hey, someone’s gotta do it, and today, that someone was the Dynamic Duo: Batman and Robin, but with more sweat and significantly fewer gadgets.

    At least we weren’t the splash crowd. That’s all I’m gonna say about that.