It was a hot and humid morning. The sun began to rise, and the smell of greatness filled the air ( maybe it was the garbage truck that was passing by). A 13 year old stepped out of the car, nervous, but ready to lead. He started off with side straddle hops ic, confidence in his counting. Arm circles, air presses, windmills followed. Again, confidence could be heard in his voice. We moseyed to Noah’s ark for some Dora. 100 merits, 200 squats, 300 lbcs while partner 2 ran the ark. Little did we know that this sick little man was just warming up. We then lined up on the wall for 11s. Freaknastys folllowed by a lunge walk to the street, then burpees followed by bear crawls back to the wall. Shooter, Jose, and Russo were sweating buckets from this beat down. (However, they would sweat that much just sitting there fishing, but that’s besides the point) The young lad smiled as we were gasping for air, grunting in displeasure. He was happy, but realized quickly that there was time left, and he had finished his list. We moseyed back to the flag, and got a series of on the spot exercises. No rhyme or reason to them. The young man was tired, but relieved the workout was over. He led a group of men who’s average age was 3 times his own. That is F3! COT, and prayers after,
Fitness. Fellowship. Faith.
