I Don’t Feel Tardy

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.