Author Archive Tiger-Rag

The Impossible Brat

When Cased Meat asks you to Q, you say Yes. Unless, that is, you are the first 15 people he asked….which is how, no doubt to his chagrin (and probably yours) I come to find myself Swift Q tomorrow.

In an effort to make it as Brat-like as possible, I’ve co-opted his plan from a Kiawah taper week of yesteryear: . Meat-like appearance, meat-like smell, but lacking actual meat.

It is my understanding that The People of WalMart (Women’s Tights Division) have their own version of Cased Meat at Fast Twitch. If you are looking for a reason to gouge your eyeballs from your head, that may be the place for you.

Dance Off

Today’s backblast title is brought to you by childhood memories* of West Side Story on LaserDisc, Tato Skins and Tab.

See, what had happened was, the manly men got back from the pre-run to find a clip-boarding pair of interlopers desecrating hallowed Meathead ground: a man and woman (!) squealing to some synth-pop ear candy and romping about on the sinful side of 0.0. We about had a power-snapping donnybrook right there from the get go. Instead, we decided to mock from a distance (just loud enough to let them know we were talking about them, but quiet enough so they wouldn’t make it out and come beat us up), then rammed a snoot-full of High T pheromones right up their beaks with some Led Zeppelin (Moby Dick, all the way to 11), full body ewections (as my grad school TA would say), and a humped monkey or 12 in their general direction. The alpha dominance of 10 prostrate men, loins to the sky, was on full display. (Pro-tip: any time you can use plump, moist or loins in a BB, traffic increases a Hops-approved 13%. Spackler knows.) Bulldog finished them off with seated KB skull crushers. Which reminds me, you still owe me two Shake Weights, you wanker. Which also reminds me, can we call you Wanker again?

Today was the third press day (of 9) on the road to increased pep and vigor. If you’re not lifting cars off children and wearing burlap underwear by the end of this program, that’s on you. Horsehead’s over there getting his EyeBro’s swolt pressing double 45s. That’s like one and a half turkey legs–right up over his head. Speaking of, it’s easy (and fun) to belittle TL (see what I did there?). Just off the top of my head I think he’s been likened to Lawn Darts, midget-wrestlers, summer sausages, elves on shelves, and those monkeys that ride the little bikes and smoke Marlboro Lights. But I’ll tell you this: pound for pound, that’s one strong sum beach. He’s punching double 35’s to the sky like he just nailed the dismount. That’s more than 50% of his body weight–better than the rest of us chumps.

Only 3 Horsemen of the Southern Babdis Convention today: our boy Piggly went AWOL. Remember, you only get Greenbacks if you post. Don’t miss the girl riding the ironing board on page 131.

Your playlist HERE.

The third squat day will end Cycle 1 this Saturday at ELE at 0630. Pre-run at 0600. We will make quick work of the program and then move right into Prowler and Heavy Carries. Li’l Runstopper needs a hug.

*Results vary. Only valid in Sumter County, Effingham, and the Scape Ore Swamp.

Squat Pyramid: The Girevik’s Cure for Standing Frog Butt

The continuing saga of manly transformation from limp-bodied rag dolls to slabs of sinewy steel…Week 1, Day 2: The Squat Pyramid.

Protocol: 1 Clean, 1 Press, 1-n Squat Pyramid, 1 Renegade Row ea side. Based on combined effects of rhabdo, DOMS and rigor mortis from Day 1’s Press Pyramid and Heavy Swings, the dread of Squat Day loomed large. End result: Didn’t seem to bad on the way up, snuck up on you on the way down, then the 5 minutes of snatches about wrecked you. One Squat Day down, eight to go.

Wrapped up by working on our full body…tension: Racked carry, 1 min hard style plan, 1 min hollow body hold, 1 min glute bridge (see Day 1 BB for technique, directives on each). Bring a towel or pad for future workouts–we will end with this sequence going forward.

Day 3 is back to Press Pyramid and Heavy Swings. Saturday at ELE, at 0630, or OYO. Day 4 is Squat Pyramid again, Monday at 0530, ELE.

Remember, this is really an OYO strength program that meets to share KBs and alienate Header’s “friends.” Why he and Chin would do that to anyone is beyond me, but F3 is better for it, for now we have a Piggly added to the Pax list. You post with a surname like Wiggly, that’s like a Chin Music hanging curve getting swatted all the way to Laredo. Lots of pressure on our boy Piggly–don’t waste a great nickname by not showing up next time. Plus, we need to talk more about that Kate Spade leather KB/clutch you nipped from the wife. Many questions….well, more comments, really.

Get Tight, Get Strong

Pickle jars be warned: the six week Total Tension Kettlebell Complex has officially kicked off. It’s not too late for rest of you sluggards to join in–just pick up a couple of kettlebells (or dumbbells, if you must) and go OYO. The group aspect is helpful to pair up on bells and make the time go by but for traveling sales guys and late sleepers, there’s no excuse to miss it. You only get two backblasts for the six weeks: first press pyramid (today), and first squat pyramid (Thursday, Lord help us). So let’s get at it.

With one workout under the belt, this is a good time to review the program objective:

I built the following complex to give you “a-ha” moments in total body linkage and tension. And build some serious muscle mass in the process.


Linkage and tension are the objectives. Muscle, mass, and strength are the results.

In retrospect, we should have spent some time practicing linkage and tension before the workout–check these out and practice them at home. We will also review briefly on Thursday.

Looking ahead…Thursday’s workout will pyramid the double front squats. Go to 4:00 mark for the squat standard. The press standard is at the 3:00 minute mark.

More reading on Tension:

Go back to the press standard video. Notice the balled fist in the free hand? Irradiation at work….

Later, men.

Hey, Skinny: Your Ribs are Showing

Stop being a Hoka-shod, run-poisoned bag of bones.  In just three fun-filled sessions a week you can reclaim your pep and vigor, and up to 25 lbs of handsome, power-packed muscles all over.  Improve your he-man good looks 1000%.  Win new strength, win new popularity.   Whether 15 or 50 years old, shoot new strength into your old backbone and exercise those inner organs—cram your body so full of red-blooded vitality that your friends will grow bug-eyed with wonder. 

Too good to be true, you say?  Here’s the kind of results we get:

“I gained 11 lbs , 5″ on my chest, 3 inches on my eyebrows, and am never constipated.”   HH, Effingham

“I gained 24 pounds and got a new neck tattoo.”  D.F., Waxhaw

“I gained 4 inches on my arms, and can open the pickle jar without asking my wife for help.”  T.L., Charlotte

Those are real quotation marks, folks.  You know it’s gonna be good with those kind of honest, un-exaggerated testimonials.  All you need is two kettlebells (or a friend with one the same as yours) and a willingness to work.

Read more about the program HERE.


  • Mondays:    0530 at Elizabeth Lane Elementary
  • Thursdays:  0530 at Elizabeth Lane Elementary (concurrent with Meathead)
  • Saturdays:  0630 at Elizabeth Lane Elementary

Finish times may vary depending on how long you decide to rest between sets.

Starts Monday, October 7, and runs for 6 weeks, ending Nov. 16. This is an OYO, Self-Q workout. We’ll meet as noted, but if you miss you make up that day on your own. Program spreadsheet will be posted on A51 and SOB slack channels.

Debbie v. Tiffany

These pythons aren’t at the top of the food chain. I am.

Terry O’Hara

Writing a BB wasn’t on the list for today but I figure if you 1) bring all the gear, 2) make helpful suggestions on the Weinke, and 3) Q-jack the playlist, you, sir, just Q’d a workout. Do the honorable thing and write the BB (with Oxford commas, if you please.)

Some of you new guys are asking, “So you’re saying anyone that leads a workout in Area 51 can write a backblast? I thought it was just for Waxhaw, Horsehead’s multiple personalities, and Gummy’s Chevy Chase quotes.” It would appear that way, but it’s true: you, too, can write a BB. In fact, you can write one even when you don’t Q. To wit…

The handful of runners before the workout went the Spam Runner route, to the right at 51. Now Header gets his little man soccer shorts in a bunch every time you say that, but it’s an established fact that the real Meat Runner is to the left on 51. Regardless, the mesomorphs dominated that day, going 1-2 on the podium while ectomorphs Header, Chin and Two Lips presumably carried on about the topics of the day. By the time we got back, Stone Cold was ready to whip us into shape.

If the Weinke was for one group to push the Prowler and the rest to stand around complaining about the Prowler, pretending to do the other exercises, then you can check that off. We did that. There’s no hiding with the Prowler–it’s either moving or it’s not and it was loaded up this morning. Big props to Turkey Leg; he’s about as thick as a lawn dart but he pushed that thing with the big boys. Then the big boys pushed it with him–on it. Watching TL ride the Prowler was how I imagine I would feel watching midget wrestling: kind of funny and sad at the same time.

Meanwhile, in the Meathead tradition, the Q attempted to get a heavy (but tasteful) metal playlist up on the Spotify but somehow ended up on Horsehead’s wedding reception playlist. With Skid Row and Warrant power ballads failing to inspire the pax, Stone Cold changed over to an indistinguishable hair metal channel before inexplicably settling on Debbie Gibson Radio. I don’t fault the man’s music tastes–we all have our hidden obsessions (see also: Haze, Susanna Hoffs). No, the problem here is that, quicker than you can Shake Your Love, the pax separated themselves into opposing gangs of Sheep (Debbie Gibson) and Goats (Tiffany). We are talking Capulet/Montague, Coke/Pepsi, crunchy/creamy, over/under; quite acrimonious and, seemingly, no middle ground. Even with the receding testosterone, Bananas and Tackling Dummy about came to blows.

Out of this ugliness comes a silver lining. Somehow it has escaped my attention for coming on eight years that Debbie Gibson and Tiffany starred in a movie together: Mega Python vs. Gatoroid. I think it would be fitting for you to just click on over. After a look at the trailer, there’s nothing more to say.

Don’t Call Me Shirley

“Surely you can fart out a 5 min blast at lunch today.”


Apparently so.

Love Bomb

We started with Asleep at the Wheel:

We continued with an unapologetic, unoriginal TR workout:  Mostly Running + Some Exercises. (NOTE: This is entirely different from my only other workout:  Mostly Running + Some Hairburners.)

Pause at 6:04. The time is now 56 to 7.

We concluded with the honey-soaked Miss’ippi drawl of Big League Chew with possibly the best take out A51 has ever heard.  Love bombs, not F-bombs.

Other:  Gloss was proud of me.

Hold On

Some day somebody’s gonna make you want to
Turn around and say goodbye
Until then baby are you going to let them
Hold you down and make you cry
Don’t you know?
Don’t you know things can change
Things’ll go your way
If you hold on for one more day
Can you hold on for one more day
Things’ll go your way
Hold on for one more day


Blame it on Slim Fast (!!!!).  He sent our mutual friend K. Wilson into the gloom, gloveless and alone. Big League Chew came through with a pair of chaw-stained gloves from an 80’s circus wrestler hailing from Yazoo, Mississippi, and the rest of the folks promised to keep an eye on him.  There was much work to be done today and some doughy FNG wasn’t going to derail this Weinke.

Since Bulldog has quit twitter I had to catch him up on Mr. Oh-No!-vember.  We exchanged a hearty chuckle there, mate.  Then we were off to fetch tires from the dark corners of the track, and hauled them down to the HS parking lot.  Some did.  Some wise-apple grabbed the gokart tire while Squid and a few others rolled commercial truck tires down the hill.

A bit of COP to make the the Sheeple think it’s business as usual and then-WHAM-O–a burpee ladder right in the kisser.  10 down to 2 and then the old surprise 10 burpee finisher.  Spackler and Bounce took turns on back rubs while our FNG power through them like a champ.  Or maybe he didn’t cause I sort of lost track of where he was.  The Tall Man Burpee Disadvantage was on full display this morning.  Faultline’s length, however, and his glacial burpee cadence, was an advantage to the rest of us. We caught our breath and watched the poor sap gingerly lower himself to the ground, as if he had just dropped his contact lens.  Sorry, dude.

Mosey to the new courtyard for a 3-man grinder.  Do an exercise while the other two ran to the top of the steps.  We start prying for info from the FNG, whose last name is Wilson.  I educating Bulldog on Puddin’ Head Wilson when it took a nasty turn in the direction of Wilson Phillips.

Random Pax:  “What was the name of that song th….”

Squid:  “Hold On.”

Random Pax:  “Oh yeah.  Who was the lead sing….”

Squid:  “Carnie Wilson or Chynna Phillips.  Wendy Wilson was not as well known but she was good, too.”

Random Pax:  Alrighty then.  How about those Bears?

The Pacific:  it’s a big, lonely ocean, my friends.  It will break a man……(Also, thank you for your service.)

One to an ambitious running of 7s with tire hairburners and burpees on each end.  Had to dial the hairburner length down from LOOKED GOOD ON PAPER to STILL SUCKS BUT DOABLE.  Alf and other short people led Mary (burpee advantage).  We put our toys away, circled up for 2 minutes of Mary, during which a man to my left gave birth to a large part of his lower GI system, managing to offend all five senses simultaneously.  It was that bad.

COT, Name the FNG (Gaffer), and a take out by the birthday boy Orange Whip.

Hair Club for Cats

There have only been 5 hirsute Qs at DT this year (and, frankly, two of them may not make that list next year) so I was as surprised as I was suspicious when I received a text from the lead Hirsutist asking if I wanted to Q today. For starters, I have more scapular hair than both Site Qs can muster over their combined 40 square feet of polished epidermis.  What’s more, HB broke the first rule  of the running castes: bird-boned Ectomorphs almost never talk to Mesomorphs except in extreme emergencies when they can’t open jars or need help moving lawn furniture.  But I took it anyway, mostly for the chance at more bald jokes (like Honey Bee at the Beach).

Also: we ran a (partially) new route, too.  The Danger Zone XL:

  • Run through Danger Zone up Colony as far as you can go and back in 60 minutes.
  • No credit if over time limit.

Ye Olde SkullSkin

Turns out that all the Real Runners and both Site Qs were meeting at O-Stupid-Thirty for a 20 miler. Great training for those overnight marathons, men. And let’s exercise caution if operating heavy machinery this afternoon.

Don’t know if the DZ XL will make the regular rotation but the small crew today seemed to enjoy it. The 60 minute cap made for on-the-fly strategery.  The goal was Carmel Road, at 4.05(ish) miles from the start.  That’s just under 7:30/mile pace. And what constitutes “half way?”  Thirty minutes? Is the Out faster or slower than the Back?  Are you faster on the Out or the Back?  The hills are in different places on the way back…One thing we learned is that it makes you run a lot harder.  Lots of smoked Pax at the end.  Second, it will serve as a good benchmark tool in tracking fitness and testing race strategy.

Thanks to Caillou and Capt. Picard for letting me Q.  Until next time.