It wasn’t particularly gloomy this morning (instead it was crisp, bright and clear). But it was pretty darn cold, at least compared to the warm winter we’ve had thus far. Given the conditions, it might’ve been a wise idea to make the trip down to the lake and witness the rare, clear night sky. But YHC is not, in fact, a wise man, so instead we opted for a simple trip around the Marsh, x2.
YHC has gotten into the bad habit of trying to lose the always-fashionably-late Cowbell during the warmorama. So after a quick set of SSH, we took the warmup on the road. A short mosey down Lamarque and we heard a car behind us, accompanied by flashing lights. Then we heard some loud grumbling and realized it was actually the Wacker of Bushes that we had left behind.
After some hustling, he caught the group at our first cross street, just in time for the first of 3 warmup stations: Seal Jacks, toe touches, and high knees. Mosey to the next street for: torso twists, windmills, butt kicks. And onward to the final intersection for: squats, imperial walkers, and x10 merkins OYO.
Back to the start the make the trip once more, but this time:
Bear crawl to first cross street, then shoulder taps x40 IC.
Lunge walk to next street, big boy sit-ups x40.
Broad Jump/Bunny Hops to next street, T – Merkins x40. (ouch!)
Mosey to final cross street, 180º jump squats, x40.
Each block is about 200 yards, so this one took a bit off the clock. But the simplicity of the routine made it a good time to catch up with the guys: talk about the Ivan, talk about our weekends, talk about the new neighbors on Lamarque who, unbeknownst to us, have been watching us each Monday morning, fondly referring to us as, “those crazy guys.” We saved the 180º jump squats specifically for their intersection to further our reputation. (Yes, of course I had considered monkey humpers, but then thought that it was a) too obvious, and that b) by the way the refer to us, they had likely already witnessed that one.)
Next up we quickly hit the pull-up bars for x15, then the benches for x20 freaks (IC), before settling back in center court for some Mary (Putins, Freddie’s, and Leg Raises, x20 IC).
COT with Pik praying us out. I’m incredibly thankful for the beautiful weather this morning, and for you three men who reliably post each week.
YHC got a little too comfortable with all these muggy December mornings and today’s below-40º temps really snuck up on me. I even had some new Christmas gloves I could’ve tested out had I realized before bolting out the door!
Alas, it wasn’t to be. Upon arriving to Granny’s empty home, YHC realized that this was the final beatdown of 2019. Had I known beforehand, I would’ve tried to make it a bit more special… close out the era with a bang. I’ll just have to double my efforts next Q.
Happily, though, it wasn’t a sad clown beatdown as the men pulled a Cowbell and rolled in right as the bell rang.
Warmorama:
Arm Circles (forward and back): IC x20
Merkins OYO x19
SSH, IC x20
Torso Twists, IC x19
Seal Jacks, IC x20
Mountain Climbers, IC x19
We kept the x19’s going for the next round, which was just a short mosey over to the bus depot benches for:
Step Ups (each leg) IC x19
Derkins OYO x19
Bulgarians (each leg) IC x19
Freak Nasties IC x19
Lateral Jump-Overs IC x19
Box Jumps OYO x19
Then onward to the tunnel, for a routine that took up the remainder of our time. Performed the following exercises, with a run to the other side and back between each set:
40 Merkins
30 BB sit-ups
20 Jump Squats
10 Burpees
20 Sister Mary’s
30 T-Merkins
40 4-count Flutter Kicks
Back at the flag for a quick COT, where Zoo prayed us out with blessings for a safe and happy new year. Thank you men for posting this morning and for the opportunity to lead. I look forward to another year of grinding it out with you guys – couldn’t ask for a better group. Happy New Year gents!
Was it as epic as expected? You bet. There were packs of wild dogs, gators lying in wait in the shallow ditches of Abita Springs, machete-wielding vagabonds hiding under the overpass, and, of course, 9 pairs of utterly destroyed feet.
As you might expect, this group of men started out strong. After a quick COT where Tank prayed us in with blessings and thoughts of safety, we set out. At this point there was still a good deal of revelry happening on Girod Street, where Sips of the Season was winding down and more than a few men were teetering in and out of bars. Caught one doing the sidewalk, using the hedges to try and keep upright. Little did we know we’d have roughly the same gait by the end of the night.
But we passed the revelry with a smile and a bounce in our step, ready to tackle the road ahead. Gideon – the Navy Seal of Netflix and Pizza – got the party started with a killer mix, and we were off. Running now at a brisk pace, more than a few of us looked around and wondered, “Wait, didn’t we say we were walking this thing?”
Getting to the Abita Trailhead (approx 9.5 miles in) was relatively quick. Took a short break (with open facilities near midnight, no less), and forged ahead. Now here’s where things started getting dicey. Jose and Moby had decided early on that they’d keep at a brisk walking pace, and so the rest of the overzealous gang started seeing a bit of separation from them. A few of us would run back and check in but eventually they seemed to be going pretty steady, and so everyone just kept moving. Shortly after hitting the Abita trailhead, the trace goes pretty dark, a little less residential, and a lot more wooded. Being the merry band of travelers that we were, we happened to rouse a few wild dogs in the woods. Tank was in the lead when the barking began, and when it was clear they were following us, he quickly circled back to the group ready for war. The dogs stayed with us for a block or so, obscured by the woods, with Tank flashing his lights in and catching the glint of at least 5 pairs of eyes. As you can imagine, Tank was fired up. He flipped his headlamp into strobe mode (hoping to give our canine friends a seizure, or at the very least some confusion), Speedy pulled out a small knife, and there was a good half hour discussion on the weapons that would need to be crafted for the return trip through that section (Spears, bats with barbed wire, you get the idea). The dogs probably sensed all the testosterone and fell back as we forged ahead. (Either that or they were simply residential dogs behind a wire fence that couldn’t we couldn’t see, but hey, not a theory YHC was ready to verify!)
Soon thereafter we reached The Gipper and collectively felt pretty darn good about ourselves. Roughly halfway and everyone was still feeling fresh. Moby had been picked up by Vickie in Abita Springs and it was time to check in with Jose, who had now been traveling solo for a few miles. Tank was quite worried about the pack of wild dogs, and sent Jose an urgent text message warning him of the dangers ahead. Unfortunately, some other “Richard” in Tank’s address book would be receiving that midnight message about the wild dogs of Abita, os Tank was not wearing his reading glasses at the time. For some reason, YHC imagines that other Richard will not be that surprised.
Hammer kept it old school and broke out the Big League Chew, and after another short break, the men turned back to head for Mandeville. Covington turned out to be just as active as Girod street had been hours ago – and, with all the drunken revelry surrounding us, more than a few men were reminded of the time we bear crawled down Bourbon Street for the Grow Ruck.
Apparently Jose had turned on the heat after passing Abita as we caught him just a few yards shy of the infamous Butter Krisp and, for a brief moment, the group was in tact. At some point YHC got a little too close to a gator, who’s loud dash into the ditch sent me nearly knocking over Wacker. (A scene reminiscent of that Captain Sparkles surprise attack at the Scramble.).
Tank, Jose, and YHC eventually slowed down while the rest of the gang moved onward at a steady clip.
Jose was undaunted by all Frank’s talk of rabid dogs, and in fact, he started heckling them as we got close. Tank tried to quiet him and Jose said hey, if a dog attacked him, he’d sue the hell out of the owners. Tank explained that it was a poor area and he probably wouldn’t get much. Jose said, “That’s fine, I’ll liquidate their assets.”
Tank’s reply?
“I’ll liquidate those dogs’ nuts if I have to.” Cue the grunting and strobing headlamps.
Meanwhile, Speedy hit a physical and mental wall at Koop Drive and wasn’t sure he’d be able to continue. The men stopped to support him, but not for long, as Speedy drew down deep, found some reserves, and pushed ahead.
Tank, Jose and I made it through Abita without incident, and, after telling the legend of the machete man who lives under the overpass, we started approaching Koop Dr. Once there, Jose told Tank and I to turn it on, that he’d be fine the rest of the way.
Took a bit to catch up with the rest of the men, who had adopted a new strategy in our absence – run a song / walk a song. This was a total crapshoot with Gideon’s mix, knowing that there’d an 8-minute Rebirth song hitting at some point. But it was a great distraction and we quickly found our way to Grandmother’s tunnel for a photo op, before hitting the Mandeville trailhead.
Another break, Butt Splice bandaged a badly blistered foot, and onward we went.
It all got a bit blurry at this point, but here are a few things I remember: Tank and Bush passing me at the lakefront for their final mile, doing it at an under 8 minute pace; the heroic image of Speedy, who thought he was done 10 miles back, running to Survivor with fists in the air to the finish line; Splice, feet wounded but patiently awaiting the sunrise that would bring his hour-long Q.
The entire group finally laid out on the lakefront lawn, just in time for Garfield to show up, stretching for the a Saturday morning pre-thang. To no one’s surprise, Tank ran the pre-thang like he hadn’t just run/walked 33 miles. And then, Splice Q’d the hourlong beatdown like the beast that he is, and unabashedly included many, many box jumps.
33 miles. 1/3 of our final goal, and it was hard. Really hard. The road ahead to the hundo is dark, and yet because of you guys, YHC is undaunted. This night made us stronger, more prepared, and more knowledgeable. Most of all, it made us realize the incredible fortitude of the men around us. Success or failure, Hundo, here we come.
You’d think with Cowbell returning from the Virgin Islands and YHC returning from a beach trip in Panama City this weekend, that we wouldn’t need all the hats/gloves/tights today. And yet most of us – precluding Shooter, of course – did arrive to this morning’s 34º gloom with the above-mentioned winter accessories.
But of course we warmed up quickly and began shedding the layers. Started things off with: good mornings, windmills, arm circles forward, arm circles backwards, air presses, SSHs, seal jacks, IWs, and hillbillies. (Ranging from 10x for the slowish ones to 20x for the faster ones.)
Then, because YHC was having second thoughts about certain sections of my planned beatdown, we took a mosey around the perimeter of the trailhead to give me time to think. Once back, we finally dove in:
Partner up at the head of the corridor: P1 will do burpee broad jumps while P2 runs the stairs and back to relieve P1. Journey across the courtyard and all the way back to the start.
Second Partner Corridor Exercise: P1 does 4x lunges, 8x squats across, while P2 runs up stairs and back to relieve. Across and back again.
Next, recovery walk over to the stage for some Balls To The Wall. YHC has probably only done BTTW once before, and had originally planned to do 60 seconds of it sprinkled a few times throughout the beatdown. That got shut down real quick after we recovered from our first minute.
Stayed with that same section of the stage wall, this time for a People’s Chair with overhead air presses, increased the time to 75 seconds.
After that, grab a partner for some Lazy Doras. Cowbell introduced this one to the Northshore PAX during his first F2 event, and it was no bueno. So YHC figured why not inflict it on the unsuspecting men this morning?
P1 10 merkins while P2 planks, swap until you’ve reached 100
P1 15 squats while P2 Al Gores, up to cumulative 150
P1 20 LBC’s, while P2 holds legs 6″ off ground, up to 200
A slowesy back to the corridor for the combo sprints/peter parkers/parker peters that I’m so fond of, and then it was time for Mary: flutter kicks, Hello Dolly’s, and Rosalie’s to wrap it up.
COT and Zoo prayed us out, with special intentions for his sister and her family, who lost their house to a fire last weekend. Lift them up this week as they deal with the loss.
Thanks men for the spur to get out of bed on cold mornings like this one, and the opportunity to lead and get sharper!
Th first below-freezing beatdown of the season and did attendance dip at the Gip? No sir, Ronnie would’ve been proud, 12 men posted in this morning’s 27º gloom. And yes, yes, we might as well just point it out: Shooter was indeed gloveless. Not to belabor the point, but according to the man himself, he just simply doesn’t feel the cold (regardless of actual science, Hammer). This legend keeps growing and Shooter could lose a pinky one of these days. And I’m not sure what the loss of that little finger might do to one’s accuracy during bow season, just sayin’.
Anyhow, the usual pre-thangers came in from their mile mosey and we kicked things off with: Seal jacks, imperial walkers, high knees, windmills, ssh, 10 merkins OYO, and some butt kicks.
Then it was off to the front of the Justice Center for some quick partner work. P1 takes off across the courtyard and up the stairs to perform jump squats x10, while P2 planks in front of a bench, ascends one hand at a time into an inclined plank on the bench, does an irken, and then back down to a standard plank on the cold, cold concrete. Swaparoo, rinse and repeat.
Finally, up to the top of the garage for the main event: music trivia. A list of exercises was presented to the PAX, YHC would hit shuffle on a playlist, and the rules were that we would all perform said exercise until the PAX could list both the title and the artist of the song. Then on to the next exercise and next song.
YHC, not knowing what was to come, got a bit nervous (I mean, what if that one 8 minute song happen to hit on burpees?) so I foolishly provided a safety net: if someone could list either the title or the artist, then we could stop the song halfway through.
So, the list of exercises:
Squats
Burpees
Flutter Kicks
Mountain Climbers
Lunges
Merkins
Putins
And YHC believes this is (approximately) the order of the songs played:
Hush – Deep Purple
Once in a Lifetime – Talking Heads
One on One – Hall & Oates
Can’t Stop – Red Hot Chili Peppers
Kickstart My Heart – Mötley Crüe
Hey Bulldog – The Beatles
Long Black Veil – Dave Matthews Band
So What’Cha Want – Beastie Boys
Working for The Weekend – Loverboy
Hunger Strike – Temple of the Dog
Take It on The Run – REO Speedwagon
Ten Years Gone – Led Zeppelin
Cum on Feel the Noise – Quiet Riot
Brandy (You’re a Fine Girl) – Looking Glass
Now this seems like a fairly diverse list, right? It runs the gamut from the 60’s to the 00’s, hits on a few different genres. And yet, little did any of us know the breadth of musical knowledge that our own (M.C.) Hammer possesses. Hush didn’t even make it to that first chord – Hammer heard that howl at the start – and he immediately blurted out the answer. YHC knew then that he might be in trouble, and indeed, on he went, knocking at least half of them out within the first 6 seconds of the song. He took mercy on the Q once or twice and let the PAX fend for themselves, which of course didn’t turn out too well for them. So while it wasn’t much of a beatdown, per se, it was at least enjoyable to watch Hammer’s prowess in action. Much to my amusement, it all ended with the men doing Putins to Brandy (despite Hammer knowing it was sung by Looking Glass – really???).
We did a quick set of suicides with one partner doing the sprints and one doing Peter Parkers, then moseyed back to the flag to squeeze in some Mary. 100’s, crunchy frogs, and some big boys. COT with (g)Ringo praying us out. (And no, Ringo did not correctly guess the Beatles tune!). Thank you men for trying something new with me this morning, next time we’ll hit some deeper cuts and get at least a few burpees in!
Maverick put such a whuppin’ on our upper bodies yesterday at the Gipper that YHC had preordained there’d be no burpees, no merkins, and no pull-ups at the (post) Scramble this morning.
We began with one the slowest warmoramas YHC has led, and I’ve led some pretty slow ones. Good Mornings, at an excruciatingly sluggish pace, followed by windmills, toe touches, IW’s, and lunges, all x12 IC for Mackenzie’s birthday. Happy birthday, Mackenzie, whoever you are.
Finally, time to mosey. Traditional route plus some – after Sunset Point we doubled back to hit the Hermitage loop for a second time, bumping our mileage up to an even 4.
Things went south at about this point, when Akbar went AWOL, which in turn sent Shooter running in circles, which in turn had the rest of the PAX performing exactly 127 LBC’s. This, along with some overly-chatty announcements, sent us over on time by about six full minutes. Luckily, Turtle was not present to note my disrespect of the time.
Soon-to-be-retired Garfield prayed us out and the PAX scattered like the wind. Thanks men for getting me out there today, some mornings are tougher than others, and I’m incredibly thankful I have you guys to hold me accountable.
Two notable occurrences right outta the gate at Granny’s this morning: Nacho posted for the first time in aeons, and Cowbell posted naked. Well, not technically naked, but in his mind I’m sure it felt that way. In his four years of F3, this was his virgin sans-bandana post. It’s like Haley’s Comet, you’ve gotta wait another 75 years to see it again.
Warmorama: Seal jacks, toe touches, SSH, good mornings, IW’s, all at or around 20x IC. And then the warmorama kinda morphed into a quick COP: mountain climbers, shoulder taps, peter parkers, all 15x IC, followed by 15 merkins OYO.
Mosey over the river and through the woods to the tunnel for a simple but miserable routine (welcome back, Nacho!): 10 burpees, 10 squats, 10 big boys, 10 merkins. Run down through tunnel and up to the other side, 9 burps, 9 squats, 9 big boys, 9 merkins. Back and forth and back and forth, descending until completed. That put us on the opposite side of the Florida, so we did a nice long run of Lt. Dan’s back across. Pelican asked why it was called Lt Dans, and I explained the reasoning (afterwards, you “ain’t got no legs”). But, Pelican countered, at the end of the movie, Lt. Dan has magic legs. Hmm… YHC didn’t know how to respond to that….
Mosey back to the flag with time enough for 30x IC LBC’s, and then Chewy prayed us out, reminding us to be thankful for our good health. T-claps to Nacho for the return post (aka kotter), hope to see you back out again this week. Thanks men for the chance to lead, appreciate you guys helping to keep me strong and sharp!
10 men braved the Olga aftermath to see what was on the No Power Menu this past Saturday. YHC may not be able to remember much of what was actually on the menu, but I can tell you what was not on the menu: a fun game of mud football wasn’t (or, really, any “fun” in general); a beatdown with a clear vision wasn’t; and a fast cup of strong coffee at coffeeteria wasn’t either. But more on that later.
First, there was much mumblechatter and confusion as to what exactly happened to Wacker. He had posted on the GroupMe that Olga had “slipped in last night and screwed things up.” But many men hadn’t heard that the tropical storm had been named and so, naturally, thought a Russian woman had slipped into Bush’s bed. Obviously, there was a lot of concern and alarm until it was revealed Olga was “not the Russian lady he did that run with a few weeks ago.”
Now, the beatdown. Nevermind that YHC can’t remember the specifics of the warmorama (it’s pretty much the same 15 or so exercises anyway, right?), more of note was that it had to be the darkest warmorama on record. With the power out in the entire neighborhood, it really couldn’t be any darker (unless, of course, we lost the light coming from Hammer and Pik’s phones). YHC kept thinking, how can we do anything in this darkness? No bear crawls, no suicides – what are we gonna just sit in a circle and do side straddle hops all morning??
So… after some SSH’s, we carefully tread over to the playground equipment for a round of 7’s: pull-ups to merkins. Then over to the benches for a second set of 7’s: Freak Nasties to Bulgarians (admittedly, Bulgarians were a bit ill-conceived due to the awkwardness of having to do each leg).
Then carefully back to center court for a set of 1 minute AMRAPs, dealer’s choice: we went around the circle and each man picked an exercise. I can’t remember the exercises: there were merkins, there were jump squats, there were burpees, oh, and then Maverick showed up about this time and made us do Merkins again.
After that, Tank mercifully took the Q for a moment, just as light was starting to peek through. He had us do runs across the court, with a merkin at each end. About 5 laps here to get the heart rate going.
YHC took the Q back for what I thought could be an interesting one: partner up for the slowest Catch Me If You Can ever. P1 will inchworm down the block, P2 will perform 10 merkins, 10 squats, and 10 LBCs, before bear crawling to catch and replace P1. YHC thought it would be fun to go sightseeing down the block (now that there was light) where there were downed power lines, fallen trees, frantic cars, and all sorts of other fun stuff to dodge. But the wise Hammer pulled us back to the safety of the court. This exercise turned out to be not so fun in the end anyway.
Then we split into two teams of 5 and did a relay race across the court. Jose ran so fast that I think he ran straight outta the court and into the home across the street, but he did seal the tie for his team. So, 20 burpees for all.
And… what else? Ah, we finished with a round of Mary: again, a 1 minute AMRAP, dealer’s choice, around the circle. And again, YHC cannot recall the exact exercises, but does remember that Pik had us do calf raises, because I remember thinking, “this isn’t core,” but hey, fair game nonetheless. And Turbo had us do Scuba Steves. And Jose pulled out his fave – Jane Fondas, 1 minute each leg to close it all out.
COT where Tank took center stage to announce the Hundo, which is gaining some traction despite its utter insanity. You gotta love these guys. Akbar prayed us out and then we were on our way in search of coffee. Despite the citywide outage, this group of stragglers wouldn’t take no for an answer and found the local Waffle House to be incredibly accommodating despite the lack of power. T-claps to our cheery waitress, who put up with Hammer’s constant tea refills and a bunch of sweaty guys that had no intention of eating. In the company of these men, that weak, slow-drip coffee was some of the best I’ve ever had.
So while we may never know if those eighteen year olds were able to pull their truck out with bungee cords, like much in life, some things are just better left to the imagination. Gents, thanks for the opportunity to co-lead with Tank, I believe I can speak for both of us when I say that it’s a privilege and honor that we don’t take for granted.
Like the men of F3, Waffle House plans for the expected, but is prepared for the unexpected.
Let’s just acknowledge that there was an actual “crowd” to please in the first place – Grandma’s was a-hoppin’ this morning. Aside from the regulars, there was Zoo, who has started to become a regular. There was Hammer, who not only posted today, but yesterday at the Marsh as well. And then there was Captain, the Chief, the Sparkliest of firefighters and most notable of actors in the Hollywood South, who made a rare guest appearance. Sounds like he may soon bump himself up to a series regular if we continue to EH him (hint, hint). There was also a very vocal owl that greeted the Hammer and I with eerily childlike rantings (YHC was reminded of the Hammer’s demonic, discarded doll), but he didn’t stick around long enough to make the cut. Anyhow, for Granny, it was a packed house.
Warmorama: IWs, torso twists, toe touches, SSHs, and probably something else. Finished with 20x merkins OYO.
As the fall weather settles in, YHC sometimes worries that the PAX just won’t sweat enough. This is the kind of stuff that keeps me up at night. I mean, if Shooter doesn’t sweat during a beatdown, then really what was the point? Luckily temperatures hadn’t dropped too much, but YHC decided to start with a quick mosey around the block to get the blood flowing.
Next up was the “crowd pleaser,” a term YHC takes at face value, rather the ironic one that seems to be intended. In front of the stage (which was well illuminated for some reason this morning), we spread out to four imaginary corners. The routine would be to travel clockwise to each corner, and perform the same exercise x10 until you’ve returned to your original corner. So:
Bear crawl, x10 merkins at each corner Lunge walk, x10 squats at each corner Crab walk, 10x big boys at each corner Frog jumps, 10x burpees at each corner
Recovery walk over to the corridor for partner sprints: P1 holds a people’s chair while doing air presses, P2 sprints half the corridor and back, then the full thing (including the stairs but mindful of our friendly stair-climbing couple) and back to flapjack.
The Grand Finale was a last minute call – seeing that stage so well-lilt, and having an actor in our presence, it seemed necessary to get up there in the spotlight. So we hopped up to center stage for a little game of Rochamburpees. Same partners, rock/paper/scissors with the winner doing 1 merkin and the loser, 1 burpee. Redos for ties, and an ascending count each round, up to 10x. As the odd man out, YHC unfortunately hitched his wagon to the wrong horse, with Captain defying the odds and losing the first 8 straight. Out of sympathy, Cowbell even tried purposefully losing, which failed as well. Such was the bad luck of Cap. In the end, though, he came through when it mattered and secured the final two wins.
Back to the flag for a some Mary: Crunchy Frogs, LBC’s, Putins, Flutters, and 100’s, all x20 IC. COT and Shooter prayed us out. Thank you men for getting out of the sack this morning and helping me become a stronger and better man.
Cowbell and YHC have often discussed the misery of Monday mornings at the Marsh. Typically they’re not the most difficult beatdowns of the week, but coming off the weekend, as Lionel Ritchie would tell anyone who’d listen, they’re never easy, easy like Sunday morning.
In fact, this beatdown was designed purposefully to be easy, and it still wasn’t easy. If that makes any sense whatsoever.
After a quick warmorama at center court (consisting of toe touches, arm circles, good mornings, windmills, ssh’s) we took a mosey.
This whole thing was a mosey, in fact – up the trace, to Jackson, down to the lakefront and back – with the stipulation that we’d stopped at (most) intersections to perform a 1 minute AMRAP of an exercise. From what YHC can remember, it was something like:
squats
LBCs
merkins
mountain climbers
flutter kicks
freak nasties
knee ups (1 min each leg)
burpees
jump squats
monkey humpers
And then back in time to hit the pull up bars for 20 oyo.
Abbreviated mary of Freddie Mercs and leg raises, and Akbar prayed us out. Thanks men for posting and for the opportunity to lead, as you know, I wouldn’t be out there if it wasn’t for you guys!
