Author Archive Ickey Shuffle

Reuniti on Ice, That’s Nice

Early summer, before the oppressive humidity arrives and with a cool breeze blowing in sounds like a perfect day to break out the yacht rock playlist.  The current program of bells and sandbags is winding down so we filled the water bottles with wine coolers and set sail with the smooth sounds of summer.

Warmup, then the sandbag portion which was no day at the beach, then the kettlebell section which was an AMRAP cluster of several exercises.  Now onto the important stuff…

What is yacht rock you may ask, actually I’m sure you know what yacht rock is but Flipper didn’t before today so I had to explain that it is light rock from the late seventies and early eighties.  The soundtrack of a simpler, more civilized time.  The era of yacht rock went hand in hand with the rise and subsequent fall of the wine coolers like Bartles & James, Seagram’s Golden, Reuniti, etc.  I can’t help but wonder if the current popularity of hard seltzers is this generation’s wine cooler or if they will have more staying power.  I do think that wine coolers were too close in flavor profile to hobo wines like MD 20/20 and Night Train Express so they suffered from an identity crisis.  You probably couldn’t be seen christening a new schooner in 1979 with Boone’s Farm Snow Creek Berry.   Anyway, if you’re going to summer correctly (starting with using summer as a verb of course) you need proximity to water, booze, and tunes and I’m here to help with the last two.

For your hard seltzer you’re going to want to keep it simple and straightforward.  There’s a lot of options on the market now, but stick to something with basic flavors like citrus that don’t overpower with artificial sweetness, and can be mixed with liquor for extra horsepower.  Go with one of the following:

  1. High Noon – the best option on the market since it is made with vodka and not malt liquor.  Tastes the best, doesn’t need mixers but in the puritanical Carolinas is only available in liquor stores.  Unlike Florida, where you can get Nooner tallboys at Publix and 7-Eleven, as the Good Lord intended.
  2. White Claw – the pioneer in the category.  Several flavor options, doesn’t overpower, good for a vodka or rum floater on top.  Just stay away from the tropical nonsense like passionfruit and guava.
  3. Truly/Vizzy – Pretty much interchangeable and about a quarter notch below the Claw.
  4. Topo Chico – I had higher hopes for this brand but they couldn’t just make a straight lemon, they had to monkey around and add stuff.  Citrus isn’t broken.

Be careful with the Simply Lemonade seltzers and the Bojangles’ Hard Iced Tea though, separately they are just too sweet.  Mixed together over ice with a splash of lime juice however…

Next you’re going to need a carefully curated playlist to keep things smooth.  Start with some Kenny Loggins, Hall & Oats, Toto, Pablo Cruise, Olivia Newton John, and Boz Scaggs.  Sprinkle in a dusting of Billy Ocean, Ambrosia, America, Looking Glass, Seals & Croft et al then shake and served chilled.

Find a boat or a pool, keep things smooth, and stay frosty.  Enjoy the summer.

Ring the Bell, School’s in Session

It was (somewhat obscure) history of rock day at Meathead as we continue to get back to our roots sans spreadsheets, where the Q has the liberty to design the workout rather than be beholden to our Excel overlords.  The only guideline was at least 250 swings, which left plenty of time to come up with the rest of the plan as well as curate a corresponding playlist.

The warmup knocked out 75 swings interspersed with typical warmup like exercises.  Speaking of warmups, it’s nice that shorts are a viable option in the pre-dawn hours during the dead of winter.  I’ll never understand why people choose to live in places that have actual winters.

Next up was 5 rounds of 5 clean & press each arm, 5 goblet squats, and 20 swings.  Following this complex was 5 rounds of 10 merkins and 10 swings, leaving just 25 swings to reach the magic number.  Finish the 25, then grind out the final few minutes with carries & Mary.

Today’s playlist was inspired by a documentary I watched the other day about musician Saul Hudson and his upbringing in the Sunset Strip section of Los Angeles.  You probably know Saul Hudson by his stage name of Slash.  The documentary spent a lot of time exploring the time before Slash was rock royalty and the bands he played in before hitting it big.  Therein lies the inspiration for today’s playlist, which consisted of little known bands that featured major rock stars before their big breaks.  We heard from:

  • Hollywood Rose featuring Axl Rose, Slash, Izzy Stradlin and Steven Adler of Guns N’ Roses and Tracii Guns of L.A. Guns
  • Hawkwind featuring Lemmy of Motorhead
  • Generation X featuring Billy Idol
  • The Runaways featuring Joan Jett, Lita Ford, and one of the Bangles that isn’t Susanna Hoffs
  • Geordie featuring Brian Johnson (the second lead singer of AC/DC)
  • Montrose featuring Sammy Hagar
  • Split Enz featuring the two brothers from New Zealand who would form Crowded House

I hope today’s participants received both a challenging workout and a greater appreciation of rock and roll history.

Announcements: There’s something about a blood drive but that’s common knowledge by now so I would like to use this forum to lament the decline of the once hallowed institution known as the backblast.  It has been on a downward trajectory for some time now, hastened lately by this Slackblast nonsense.  I liken the Slackblast to GrubHub and Uber Eats.  Yes, it’s possible to have Taco Bell delivered right to your door without having to move scarcely a muscle outside of your phone scrolling finger, but is it good for you?  Not everything needs to be easy and convenient.  Many things are better because they require effort.  Everything about a real Christmas tree is a bit of a pain in the butt, but it is infinitely better than an artificial one.  Easy doesn’t always equal good.  I shall climb down off my soap box now, though I don’t believe I’ve ever seen an actual soap box, and return to my room at the nursing home while trying not to break a hip.

New Spreadsheet, Who Dis?

That title is atrocious, and I apologize.  It’s Monday night and the words aren’t coming as fluidly as they usually do.  Anyway, today marked the start of a new kettlebell program for Swole/Meathead/Olympus and I was tasked with coming up with something.  With the exceptions of grilling meats, investment portfolios, and playlists, things rarely go well when I am in charge of them so hopefully this works out.  I picked elements from several MMA conditioning kettlebell programs I found online and did some tweaking to come up with a cardio endurance phase, a strength focus phase, and an explosive power phase.  Today was week one day one of the cardio endurance phase.

Warmup then straight into 5 minutes of alternating 20 swings and 10 merkins with the goal of getting as many reps as possible in the allotted time.  This quickly became an absolute grind, but that’s what endurance workouts are, and it was still better than running.

Next up was three rounds of single leg deadlifts x 5 each leg, 10 halos each direction, and 8 reverse lunges each leg.  The goal was to alternate lower and upper body while remaining in motion and blending strength with cardio.  It may not be perfect but it’s grounded in more actual science than anything the CDC has done in the past 2.5 years.

Over to the playground for 5 rounds of pullups x 5, merkins x 10, and swings x 20.  Watching Hoover and Turkey Leg do pullups on the children’s playground next to each other is quite a site.  It’s basically like a Humvee and a Miata lining up to drag the quarter mile, which at this point is probably the plot of the next Fast and Furious movie.

Finish up with some heavy carries and Mary.

This program is based on the principles of training for combat sports, and I would place the first iteration solidly in the welterweight division.  It had enough pop to make you feel it and smack you around a bit, not like those featherweights that buzz around and annoy the bejeezus out of you.  They may hit you 100 times but it’s basically like being smacked by a toddler.  There was enough motion to tax the cardiovascular system as well, so it wasn’t like a heavyweight bout where two huge lummoxes stand in the center of the ring and trade blows without much movement.  Don’t get me wrong though, I love when two lummoxes throw all boxing technique out the window and just hammer away at each other like Johnny Depp and Amber Heard in a court of law.

The playlist was a sampling of some of the greatest music ever recorded, and that’s not hyperbole.  I just wish we had more time so we could’ve got to more songs.  Check slack for details on a convergence next Monday for Memorial Day as Hoover has begun to put the info out there.  Preliminary decision was to hit Basecamp at 7 am with bootcamp and kettlebell options.  I never sleep well the night before a Q and the creative juices aren’t flowing with much viscosity this evening so I’ll wrap this up.  Mercifully the school year is coming to a close and vacation season is in sight.  Let’s get out there and have ourselves a summer.

Songs for Shoe Models

Early last week Voodoo texted me asking if I “wanted” to Q Meathead, which in tone was quite similar to how my wife phrases things like “Do you want to help me fold the laundry?” or “Do you want to take the garbage out?”.  I typically respond with “Do I want to, no.  Will I, absolutely” which is almost always met with a look that could melt steel.  All I’m saying is be precise in your language.

So I found myself gearing up to Q Meathead last Wednesday, but a multitude of life responsibilities kept me up too late Tuesday night so I barely had time to come up with a workout and get to bed at a somewhat reasonable hour, meaning that the playlist would have to be sacrificed.  The spreadsheet called for Turkish Get-Ups and 20-30 minutes of cardio.  Cardio.  At Meathead.  Not on my watch.

For a fleeting moment it looked as if I would be the only one who showed for the workout, and since I don’t have the intestinal fortitude of Champagne (remember him?) I was about to go home and sleep on the couch, when Voodoo, Worm, and Frehley’s pulled in.  Best laid plans and whatnot…

Instead of get-ups and cardio we paired swings and merkins and for the “cardio” we integrated a ton of heavy carries in between sets.  Then it was squats and sumo high pulls I think, but it’s been a week and I don’t really remember.  Anyway, that’s not the part anybody cares about.  Since I was derelict in my playlist duties the other gentlemen asked what they could play on my behalf, and I responded that Buckcherry would be lovely.  Some context…recently I attended a joint bachelor/bachelorette party in Las Vegas where thanks to flight cancellations and delays coupled with my juvenile genetic wiring I slept about 10 total hours from Thursday night until I walked in the door to my house Monday morning at 8 am.  Saturday night we found ourselves at a hidden speakeasy in the Cosmopolitan hotel that featured a band that played mainly 90s alternative covers, and one of the songs they played was by the aforementioned Buckcherry, which made me irrationally happy.

Frehley’s just so happened to have a Buckcherry playlist already made because apparently angels walk among us.  He apologized that “Crazy Bitch” might appear twice on the list, which is an odd thing to apologize for because it should appear a minimum of three times on any playlist.  This led to a discussion of what songs would be good to perform to if you hypothetically were reincarnated as a female exotic dancer, or shoe model as we called them on the mean streets of Southwestern Ohio.  I immediately stated that Buckcherry would be featured prominently in my set, and the ensuing discussion was both enlightening and thought provoking.  The selections were limited to rock music of course, as nature intended, and because hip hop is absolute dreck and its rise to the dominant form of popular music is in direct correlation with the decline of American society.  The group settled on the following selections:

  • “Cherry Pie” by Warrant
  • “Girls Girls Girls” by Motley Crue
  • “Pour Some Sugar on Me” by Def Leppard
  • “Lit Up” by Buckcherry
  • “Stacey’s Mom” by Fountains of Wayne
  • “Dance” by Ratt
  • A few others I’m having trouble remembering, but I think to round things out you need to throw in a power ballad or two, perhaps something like “When I Look into Your Eyes” by Firehouse or “Love Walked In” by Thunder.  I think you can get creative and go a lot of different ways here.

Well, I don’t really know how to put a cap on a kettlebell workout combined with a discussion on what songs middle aged men would perform to if they somehow found themselves young female shoe models.  This is probably why I’m not asked to lead things very often.

Thursday On The Rocks

We had 15 for Hydra on what is hopefully winter’s last stand this morning.  This damp, dreary, drizzly nonsense is a reminder that Charlotte, NC is the northernmost point that is fit for humans to inhabit.  There was not much pre-workout chatter since I suppose everyone was tired from staying up to watch that UVA/Louisville game that ended up something like 39-36.  I’ve seen 12U rec league games that are more action packed.  Anyway, we set off to have ourselves a workout.

The warmup was a hodgepodge of the usual suspects with some Mary thrown in for good measure but omitting side straddle hops since roughly half the pax don’t bother to do them.  After sufficiently warming ourselves we set off for the tables and bleachers near the concession stand at the back baseball fields.  We took a bit of a meandering route because YHC wanted to appease the contingent that insists that every bootcamp should feature copious amounts of running.  Actually, I just got disoriented because I’m typically only at OPE for 10U baseball in the daylight and momentarily forgot where the gate openings were.  Once we reached our destination instructions were given to perform 100 dips and 100 split squats split evenly between both legs.  These instructions were met with some slight pushback, but everyone acquiesced once they realized I was serious.

Next the plan was to go to the open field next to the launch lot, but it was still quite soggy so YHC accepted the group’s constructive criticism and not so subtle suggestions to adjust the location to the parking lot.  Feedback is a gift they say.  Whomever said that must not have ever been to Hydra.  A variant of the Iron Horse merkin ladder was on tap, so we added squats to the merkins and ran back and forth several times across said parking lot, which looks downright silly when seen in print.

The third component of the workout was to take place at the church across Rea Road at the rock pile.  Feeling generous, and since YHC runs slower than a three legged turtle crawling through maple syrup, I offered to let the pax run ahead and do burpees while they waited for me to arrive.  Nobody accepted my benevolent offer however.  I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed.  At the rock pile it was time for some bodybuilding because summer bodies are built in the winter.  We did some standard exercises; curls, extensions, presses, etc. and some not so standard ones.  YHC introduced the group to the overhead weighted lunge walk, the Frankenstein rock walk, and the Sots press.  Perhaps it was the fatigue setting in, but at this point it was difficult to tell if the chatter was fawning adulation or spiteful derision.  It’s a fine line.  Spackler and Marge decided to set off on their own, like Hermie and Rudolph because they wanted to get additional running in.  Weirdos.

Back to the launch lot for some outsourced Mary, and a fair to middling takeout by YHC.  Not many announcements save for a beer mile next Friday.  One Site Q was in attendance today, but both made sure to text me several times throughout the week beginning on Monday afternoon.  They needn’t have worried since I’m like a Lannister and always pay my debts, just without the blonde hair and incest.  Not much mumblechatter during and after the workout, so you people didn’t give me a lot of material to work with for this backblast.  Thursdays are a rarity for me since I bowl in a Wednesday night league, but it was good to see some faces I don’t run into nearly enough.  Mostly it was good to catch up a bit with Geraldo, a/k/a The Peoples’ Champion.  For those that would have preferred more running and less strength building, please see Jet Fuel for your refund once he returns from his stay at the luxurious Grove Park Inn.  Besides, there’s always Devil’s Swift Twitch or whatever not too far away.  Everyone should Q Hydra at some point, especially for introverts such as YHC.  It requires a thick skin, a willingness to be assertive, and conviction to step outside your comfort zone.  It’s good practice for life in general.

Save the Neck for Me Clark

The Monday after Thanksgiving is always brutal, getting back into the swing of work and real life after a blissful few days off spent watching football and eating too much is a real kick in the stones.  We’re entering the mad dash sprint between Thanksgiving and Christmas where we fight the urge to shut it down at work while trying to tie up loose ends so we can focus on more enjoyable things like buying gifts for loved ones, planning gatherings, and watching superior collegiate tackle football teams prevail over their lesser rivals.  The early alarm got the sprint season started earlier than desired, but health and fitness are imperative at this time of year so tossing around kettlebells is a fine way to attack the day.

We are wrapping up the current program which focuses on squats, cleans, presses, and snatches much to everyone’s delight.  My reading of the Holy Spreadsheet of Antioch told me that 6 sets were in order, but the group found that news most displeasing and insisted that the correct number was 4.  Have it your way.  Following the compulsory portion of the workout we did complexes of swings, merkins and LBCs for three rounds, then rows and deadlifts for a bit. The playlist was my Spotify curated Christmas music list.  I’m unsure if the rest of the group shared my early season enthusiasm but I certainly tried to make it a holly jolly Monday.

When Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas is You” inevitably came on we wondered how much she makes each year from the song, originally released in 1994.  After minutes and minutes of exhaustive internet research it appears that Mariah makes about $3 million annually, which would definitely put some fruit in your cake.  I’m old enough to remember when the queen of Christmas was young, attractive, and sane.  “Last Christmas” by Wham! clocks in at about $1 million per year.  Conversely, whoever wrote “The Christmas Shoes” should be required to pay royalties to everyone whose ears that atrocious pile of dreck has ever assaulted.

It’s officially Christmas season, so remember to move the elf.

I Didn’t Know This Was a Motorhead Song

Eight men answered the midweek bell to swing iron at Meathead this past week fighting off humidity and the dog day doldrums of the late summer.  We began with a disclaimer that some would call eloquent and moving and others would call nonexistent and completely missing.  Everyone hears things differently I suppose.  Next came a warmup consisting of various exercises not including the side straddle hop, because as I have learned recently, when your running shoes are extended beyond their useful life, that particular exercise is about as much fun as being stuck in a middle seat on a cross country flight between a chatty vegan and a woman who is super excited about her new Rodan & Fields business (pyramid scheme).  New shoes have summarily been ordered so as not to follow the cautionary tale of Gummy and Gloss and refusenik jumping jacks.

The holy spreadsheet of thunder and rock & roll let me know that press ladders and snatches were the order of the day.  Snatches are terrible and snatches in humidity are terribler.  First up was five sets of 1 press per side, then 2 per side, then 3 per side. Next was five sets of 10 snatches with each arm.  The compulsory part of the workout finished we could move on to the things that I actually wanted to do, namely five sets of 10 swings, 10 merkins, 10 sumo high pulls, and 10 sumo squats.  We then finished the morning off with some loaded carries and hollow body holds.

Now onto the part of the backblast that people actually read.  This particular offering is terribly late for a variety of reasons, none of them particularly good.  My ancient laptop is like Tennessee football, last viable circa 2012, and I don’t like writing on the iPad or the work computer.  Also, I really couldn’t think of any theme I wanted to center my commentary around.  The playlist was Motorhead because I was in need of a palate cleanser due to attending my first jam band concert the previous weekend.  While the musicianship is undoubtedly amazing,  the concept of one verse and chorus every 14 minutes is something I’ll never get used to.  Oddly, over the 45 minute period, the Spotfiy algorithm selected three cover songs performed by Lemmy and the boys.  Their rendition of Judas Priest’s “Breaking the Law” was good, though not much different than the original.  Aerosmith’s “Train Kept A Rollin'” was interesting given the stark vocal differences between Lemmy and Steven Tyler, and their version of The Kingsmen’s “Louie Louie” was something that was unexpectedly delightful. While trying to think of a good topic to write about, my thoughts settled on the school year that is about to start, and how it represents a fresh start and a clean slate, a midyear do-over on New Year’s resolutions.  This time of year gives the chance for a restart that many of us need, and by many of us, I mean me of course. The past several months have been more existing than truly living for yours truly.  Too many weeknight glasses of scotch and vapid television, not enough intellectually enhancing pursuits.  Therefore I have decided to hit take the metaphorical game cartridge out of the console, blow on it (those of us raised on the original Nintendo Entertainment System know that is how to fix any software bug) and hit the proverbial reset button on the year.  I ordered a new laptop and have decided to finally get started on the nine year plan of becoming a freelance writer.  Why nine years?  Well, in nine school years, my youngest child will finish high school, and at that point I want to have reconciled my last spreadsheet for the man, constructed my last PowerPoint deck for senior leadership, and cease to be a cog in the soul crushing machine that is corporate America.  Now that I have put this ambition out there in print (pixels, but you get the point), I have an accountability network, and this group of ours excels at holding each other accountable.  If anybody else could use a midyear recalibration, I think the dawn of a new school year marks a good point on the calendar to reassess, realign, and get going.  As Andy Dufrense said, it’s time to get busy living.  Now, there are steaks to be grilled (get the outdoor flattop griddle, it’s life changing), backyard footballs to be thrown, and riddles of how to monetize writing things on the internet to be solved.

I Don’t Feel Tardy

About a week ago a number of men larger than ten but smaller than twenty gathered at Hydra for a workout that still starts at the reasonable hour of 6 am.  We’re going to say 13 because I’m reasonable sure that is actually correct, but can’t be bothered to check Slack.  This backblast is woefully tardy so some of the details may be a bit hazy, but that’s how some of life’s best stories typically go, with details shrouded in mystery due to the passage of time or injection of intoxicants.  Anyway, here’s my best recollection of the morning:

Short run to the other parking lot for COP, probably SSH, Imperial Walkers, and mountain climbers probably done by about 75% of the group.  Run to the rock pile at the church across the street.  Three sets of Sots presses and overhead squats.  Only a handful of people tried the Sots presses, which is disappointing and you people definitely need to broaden your strength building horizons.  Run over to the empty field between the mini playground and the baseball fields.  Iron Horse inspired merkin/squat/LBC ladder starting with 20 reps then run down the other end for 18, run back for 16, etc. all the way down to 2.  The ladder structure is still terrible, think Notre Dame in the College Football Playoff level terrible.  Run to the football field and gather in the end zone.  I wondered why nobody used the football field anymore, and as we were about to start the next complex Spackler warned me that it was full of burrs.  Being Spackler, I didn’t listen and brushed it off instructing the group to lunge walk to midfield, drop for 10 merkins, then sprint to the end zone.  After lunge walking to midfiled I dropped to perform said merkins, and immediately felt sharp pains in both hands as they were covered in burrs.  I should have listened to Spackler, apologies.  There were a few rounds of this, just banking the merkins for later.  After the last sprint, run to the bleachers and tables by the concession stand for 100 dips and 100 incline merkins, plus the 30 or so regular merkins carried over from the football field.  Run back to launch lot for some concluding Mary.

There is a good reason for the extreme delay in publishing this backblast.  Actually there is not.  I don’t like typing these on the iPad, and I don’t like using my work computer, so I’m left with an ancient laptop from circa 2012 that is slower than the service at restaurants these days due to the worker shortage.  Except Chic-Fil-A of course, they remain on their game, doling out sandwiches and nuggets with a side of “My Pleasure” with efficiency that would make Germans proud.  As an aside, my record for getting them to say “My Pleasure” during a transaction is 5.  Yes, I’m a basically a child.  On to the news and notes of the morning.  Most of the regular crew was there except for Gloss, who was leading a workout that I’m not sure actually exists.  Clover was not there either, having followed Gloss to the mystery workout in some neighborhood that probably doesn’t show up on GPS apps.  The burrs football field are no joke, when I hit the deck my hands were filled a searing pain.  I imagine the pain is similar to that of parents whose children Auburn University (previously known as Alabama Polytechnic Institute and East Alabama Male College).  Hops wasn’t there either, so he avoided the japes regarding animal husbandry and bad football prevalent in Lee County, Alabama.  That’s about all I can remember, again, please forgive the tardiness.  I’m sure tomorrow’s Hydra Q will prepare his backblast in a more timely fashion.

Topo Chico Hard Seltzer in Stores March 29th

This morning at Anvil we had thirteen PAX including one FNG and were greeted by the first morning of the season that felt downright pleasant.  I think the gloves can safely put away until November or December, and maybe even washed.  I was thrown for a bit of a loop right from the start because based on the usual attendees of Anvil, I was expecting three things to happen:

  • To be heckled mercilessly
  • Refusenik-ing galore
  • Very little participation in cadence counting

Instead, the group was very affable and good-natured, so I had to adjust my expectations and press on.  We began with a jog to the Astroturf pavilion and upon arriving the sign out front let us know that we had entered a designated mask zone.  Outside.  Really.  Seeing no Karen Fauci types around to scold us we warmed up with the usual group of exercises.  Surprisingly, we had nearly full participation in the side straddle hops, sans Hops.  Far be it from me to judge (kidding, I love judging) that’s a weird exercise to boycott.  I save my refuseniks for truly dumb things like burpees.  Following the warmup we set off for the Avenue of Trees.  Four rounds of a hard run to the end for merkins, squats, and Freddie Mercurys (20x, 15x, 10x, 5x reps) and a recovery jog back.

Next up a run to the hot box for bench work.  First up was 50 dips then run to the end of the sidewalk and back.  Next up was 20 incline merkins, 10 decline merkins, run out and back.  Third round was 20 split squats, out and back, and lastly was 20 step ups.  We had about 15 minutes to go in the workout by this time, so the instructions were given to run to the rock pile.  Someone asked me if I meant the pile on the way back to launch or the far away one on the other side of campus.  Bro, have you met me?

Upon arrival at the rock pile we had another question, asking if we were getting lifting rocks or running rocks.  Again…I thought you people knew me.  First exercise was the Sots Press, which is the overhead press while holding the squat position.  Look, you people can give me all the dirty and disapproving looks you want, but I’m going to keep calling the Sots Press because it’s a great exercise and everyone should do it more often.  Next up was the overhead squat and four rounds of curls and triceps extensions.

Lastly return to the launch lot for some Mary, mostly the usual exercises but I mixed in some of the isometric holds we do at Swole/Meathead/Olympus.

Mumblechatter seemed light this morning, which usually provides me fodder for backblast titles and material.  I didn’t hear much that would give me an opportunity to go off on a rambling, loosely tied together tangent.  However, it was good to see that some things remain constant.  Snowflake still runs in and out of workouts, Rachel is still really fast, and Puddin still farts loudly during Mary.  In an ever changing world, it’s nice to have some things remain constant.  With little inspiration to work with, I’ll use the title of the backblast to pass along song useful information that I’m sure Clover (Area 51’s hard seltzer Q) would want everyone to know had he been there this morning, which he was not.

We had one FNG this morning, who we named Poblano.  His last name is Scoville, like the heat units used to judge peppers and hot sauce.  He is also a former collegiate baseball player at the state university of New Jersey, so we had a few areas to work with.  The creative juices were flowing about as well as molasses rolling uphill in January and the suggestions flamed out quickly, much like the Big 10 and ACC in the NCAA tournament.  We settled on Poblano because it’s a fun word to say.  Not many announcements today, but please keep the Palmer family in your thoughts and prayers.  Check Slack for some upcoming challenges/events.  High Tide has a functional strength challenge later in May, with divisions for Respects, Meatheads, and mortals.  Flipper has a couple things out there as well that I haven’t been able to read all the way through yet because, Flipper.  In closing, we’ve hit that short stretch of perfect weather for afternoon patio happy hours so hopefully we’ll see some organized via Slack/text/email soon.

A Shot in the Dark Beats a Walk in the Park

Only four PAX this morning for what is hopefully the last chilly gloom of the season.  As a group we decided that today’s musical selection would be to listen to and review AC/DC’s new album Power Up.  There would have been five of us, but at 5:28 am I received a text from Voodoo saying that he was wrapping up some work for a client in Ireland and wouldn’t be able to make it.  I assume this mystery client was Bono, Pierce Brosnan, or Conor Macgregor since those are the only notable Irish people I can think of.  Maybe Sinead O’Connor, though I’m not certain she is still among the living and can’t be bothered to look it up.  Mighty Mite wondered aloud if this was a ruse to avoid any discussion of UVA basketball.  Later in the day I received another text from the Nant’an asking when the backblast would be posted.  The audacity.  Anyway, on to the day’s activities:

EMOM Sets of 10 rounds/6 reps of heavy swings

AMRAP Sets for 15 minutes of 10 merkins, 5 sumo high pulls/upright rows (there was some discussion on what the proper term is, but I like sumo high pull) and 2 clean & press each arm

Active Recovery set of 50 swings

Three sets of mixed grip heavy carries and deadlifts followed by some core work to round out a solid start to the week

Initial thoughts on the new AC/DC album is that fortunately is sounds like AC/DC.  It’s essentially blues grooves and driving rock beats played through heavily distorted guitars over a shuffle drum beat supplemented by sexually suggestive lyrics, catchy hooks, and numerous ways to use the word “rock”.  Personally, I don’t really want a band like AC/DC to grow as artists or exploring the proverbial studio space.  I want stripped down straight ahead rock and roll.  Anything more than four chords is jazz fusion.  In short, Power Up is superior to approximately 98% of the dreck released over the past twenty years.  Long live rock and roll, may it once again rise and stand at the forefront of popular music.