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.
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:
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.
Bringing the TURN back to Devil’s Turn: It’s 5 miles and change to Colony and Fairview. You have 60 minutes to get there and back via Danger Zone.
If you don’t like that, run the Danger Zone course.
0515 Start. 0615 Finish.
If memory serves (and it rarely does) the last time I was at Skunk Works, Witch Doctor played the 12 days of Christmas for an hour straight and then I left F3 for about 4 months. That’s what that horrible song (and an “overactive thyroid”) will do to you. A sad clown home KB workout a couple of months back left me blistered of hand and taut of hamstring for about a week so, with the BRR a mere 10 days off….NAH GONNA DUH IT. Not gonna harsh my taper, man.
[Voodoo, High Tide thought cloud: “BUT, BUT….KBs are the runner’s best friend. Posterior chain, hamstrings, glutes, they make you faster.”] They are right, of course. But not, after 6-8 months off, if you put them in the week before a race. I might be stupid, but I am not dumb. So that’s why you get a little bit of KBs and a lot of conditioning today. Thank Witch Doctor.
Surprised that we had 6 for the 0500 Skunk Runner. I thought that more or less died when Sussudio packed up his capri pants and moved to Del Boca Vista. Not surprised, however, that Fletch rolled in at 5:02. Not content to just catch up, he rolls down his windows to survey the faces and says….”Only you guys, eh? Go ahead (you sluggardly clumps of flesh), I’ll catch this group in no time. Probably have time to drop another deuce beforehand, too.” Those weren’t his exact words, but that’s what he meant. I saw a TED Talk on Body Language one time so I know these things. And catch us he did.
Meanwhile, the Spacklers, Bounces and Freedoms of the world were doing what they do at 0500: Swerving, yelling and honking at runners; working on masturbation jokes; and anthropomorphizing cast iron gorilla heads. Respectively, mind you, so as to not confuse the reader (and whatever body oversees 4 point Baptists). The Oxford semi-colon is key. (Funny thing there…I typed “Semi” and “Colon” and the concession stand at SCMS immediately came to mind. True story.)
Before we go any further, a note to any barrister reading this: your client was told, in a great cloud of 24 witnesses, that what was to follow were only suggestions and that he should have the common sense to KNOW THINESELF and modify as necessary. [Mermaid, your house is safe on my watch, buddy.] Thus forewarned, we moseyed to the suicide curb. Well, not entirely accurate: we walked down there. We started with some swings and ended up by doing cleans, reverse lunges and presses. This is a happy coincidence because when stacked one on top of the other, you get a Viking Salute, one of my favorites. The main set went like this:
Repeat with Reverse Lunges. Then repeat again with Presses. Then, stack them together and do the combined movements, or modified version, 3 times ea side, with the same suicide stations.
The backwards run up the hill on the last set reminded me of the backward bear crawl for some reason so we assembled at the bottom of the hill and, with a 25 arse salute to passing traffic, BBC’d up the hill with our KBs in tow, an exercise well-received by all who did it (not many).
Back for Mary followed byt a little bit of running and stretching. FINIS.
MOLESKINE
I gotta tell ya, I worked harder during this BB than I did during the workout. Quiet bunch today. It was probably the tension between Header and Arena that killed the buzz. Their respective MS Soccer teams face off in Game of the Century: The Carmel Candy Apples vs. Kings of the Jungle. In an unfortunate turn of events for the Candy Apples, Header, the always-effervescent Head Candy Apple, says their best player’s dad took the doors off the family Jeep, got caught in a freak 68 degree cold snap, and is hypothermic (the kid, not the dad). Or maybe just has the sniffles, but either way is expected to recover fully but won’t play today. Arena, the rock-ribbed Capital-P Presbyterian that he is replied. “Don’t matter no way. We be Frozen, Chosen and Bull-dozin’.” The blood-letting begins at 4:15 at Warner. Get your tickets.before they sell out. I hate to poke the Happy Candy Apple and then not show but I’ll be half way to Virginia watching my middle child run for 13 minutes.
F3 Hashtag Pro Tip: Chatty is good during the work out and when counting. Not good during COT.
Peace out.
P.S.: Rachel Price’s birthday today. Some gifts from her to you:
All the details you need for 2016 F3 Golf. If you still have questions, hit the comments or email F3Golf@gmail.com.
Olde Sycamore Golf Plantation is located at 7500 Olde Sycamore Dr, Mint Hill, NC 28227.
Captain’s choice.
Forecast looks dry and hot. OS is motivated to get us on the course but ultimately they make the final call. Keep an eye on your inbox for an email from F3Golf@gmail.com and the @F3Golf twitter feed.
T-Claps to all of the sponsors who enable F3 Expansion to #GiveItAway. Check them out on the F3 Golf Website Sponsor Page
A big thanks to our Sponsor and Donor Qs, Brown and Prohibition. They’ve come through with some great prize packages, raffle items and give aways.
Bring your singles for raffle tickets and walk away with some SWAG.
Looking forward to seeing you on the course.
F3 Golf Qs,
Bananas and TR
Apparently, pet’s heads are falling off across the world of architecture today and this engineer is under duress to tape them all back on. So quick and to the point.
The pre-tweet Sunday promised both, “Miles and the chance of an unsettling experience with a half-clothed man,” featuring a picture of a pickled and smiling Gloss. But I repeat myself. Turns out the 13 pax assembled got precious little of either. The miles were supposed to come from innumerable laps around the church. As for Gloss, he claims to have been a victim of both nightmare and nausea. The same can be said for the folks that saw the pre-tweet.
THANG
Disclaim, then mosey 3/4 lap around the church to discover a growth of plates in the grass median. Grouped by 3 or 4. Pax 1, 2 (and 3 if you had one) go off in waves running laps around the church; relieve your man on the plate if you can recognize him by the sight of his hindquarters thrust in the air. Push plate all the way around the church (approx. 1/3 mile). That was the test lap. Depending on how that went, we’d do it two more times for a planned mile of HB and more running. But that would be stupid, so we did some grinders with burners and inch worms. Still unsavory, just not in the Most Likely Fatal sense. Finish that, then run back from whence we came.
MOLESKINE
BYOM this week, folks. Taping heads.
Fourteen men came for a romp through the hilly darkness. By the numbers:
No need to pretend that anyone is going to follow a Q or Weinke. I planned on doing Yucca repeats this week. You may have needed something else so do what you will and assemble at the flag pole at 0608 for the Pledge. Everything usually shakes out in the first 10 minutes as people settle into paces, groups and desired workout needs. A notional Weinke for the Site FNGs and Free Play seems to be a winning combo.
The giant oak tree blocking Boo Radley’s driveway has been moved to allow inbound traffic. The outbound lane is still blocked. Like, Zoinks!
59 days until BRR. Don’t cheat yourself like 7/9 of Free Range is doing.
Thirteen, including 1 FNG,
The Pax were PROPERLY disclaimed–none of this weak, wrote stuff you hear every time. It was something along these lines:
Though I look it, I am in fact not a fitness professional. You might get hit by a car crossing the road. You may fall down the stairs. You may wander into an ant pile and we don’t have an epi-Pens. It’s mostly dark, slippery and the ground is uneven–you may fall down and break an elbow. We are going to push tires across the pavement and your heart will want to explode. You’re older and not as coordinated as you think you are–you have more chance to get hurt over the next 45 minutes than you do remaining unhurt. You are doing this because it’s more fun than the gym, but it’s also riskier. If you have problems with any of the above, get back in the car now and sign up for the next elliptical at the HOA fitness center. If you get hurt, don’t come looking at me or the church, because I am telling you to leave. If you don’t want to leave, then you are accepting the risks. Follow me.
THANG
Thus completes 1 lap. Run as many as you can until 0610.
Finisher: Hairburner grinders x 5 min.
COT
MOLESKINE
Not much of one. We were spread out, not much chatter. A very, non-fun business like Friday workout. TClaps to Fletch and Turkey Leg for pushing the pace. Squid and Orange Whip (with a new Fit Bit PR, BTW) not far behind.
Tough day to be an FNG, but Fernando gutted it out and Stone Cold showing excellent servant leadership by sticking with him.
Hairburners with tires are horrible.
ANNOUNCEMENTS
For the 14 who posted: It was only the worst of times. No best of times to be found.
Tail 1: the smug doe who doesn’t even have the courtesy to raise its smug white tail to alert the rest of the smug deer that a fierce biped predator is approaching. [Deer thought bubble]: “Look at that sad creature coming up the hill. I am gonna sit here a minute and see if he collapses because I’ve never heard those sounds before……Nope, taking too long. I am going to eat those pansies over there.”.
Tail 2: Board shorts as jock strap. That’s all I am gonna say.
Kirk on Q next week and he promises to stay away from….you know. #DingDangDong.
Sound off if you feel the need.
Frère Jacques, frère Jacques,
Dormez-vous? Dormez-vous?
Sonnez les matines! Sonnez les matines!
Ding, dang, dong. Ding, dang, dong.
Join Friar Jacques Strap and his ding dang dong.
Greenway lot at Sardis and Old Bell. Into the McHorseArse wormhole at promptly 515. Just like the neon house number.