For those living under a rock, I turned 40 today. But the real focus should not be on turning 40, but on closing out your 30s. Can I get an amen? And man, my 30s were something. Divorce, law school, second marriage, kids, ink, F3, a world of debt, foreign travel, a few nights I don’t remember, 50 or so Phish shows, a black president and a cheeto president. What a long strange (but wonderful) decade its been.
And so, rightly or wrongly, I decided to close it out in epic fashion, with a good ole fashion binge with my buddy Ripper. I think the Uber picked me up at 2:15. Of course, I managed to forget the “watch out for the doggy gate on the dark as night walkway” warning Ripper gave me, leading me to arrive at my house with a bloody hand and knee. Luckily I didn’t feel it at the time. I washed, kissed my kids, blinked, and it was 5:15. Ripper was pulling in to pick me up for my birthday Q at BO. Whatever pain I thought I would be inflicting on the PAX would be doubly painful for me. After taking a few warmup laps to gauge just how close merlot was, the PAX began arriving, warming my heart with happy birthdays, beautiful tank tops, and thanks to Burt, some whiskey and beer. As a cold sweat consumed by body, Hello Kitty finally forced me to begin, and our hearty 21-man crew was off.
Warmup: Run to the top of the deck, good mornings (please don’t let me merlot), hillbillies (same), plank jacks (same), imperial walkers (feeling better now).
THANG: MCCANTS (Merkins, Carolina Dry Docks, Catch Me If You Cans, American Hammer, Nipplers, Tunnel of Love*, Starjump Burpees)
NMS: You see that star just above? That’s for my man Ripper. With 19 of the PAX at full volume mumble chatter (I mean nonstop, not counting, laughing their asses off, betting on who would merlot first, the green Q or the pasty white Ripper), Ripper was fighting (as was YHC). No man should do what we did. It was just downright stupid. But f**k it, your 30s only end once. With pride on the line, Ripper fought back the need and desire to let out the demons plaguing his body. Yet more, as we settled in for Nipplers by the lovely Cary Town Hall fountain, my main man leaned over and said, “I’m gonna get in that damn fountain.” As we wrapped up the Tunnel of Love, YHC had a nice announcement for the PAX: “Gents, Ripper is going to demonstrate one of his favorite new workouts, the Texas Hot Tub.” And with that, Ripper jumped into that fountain with a youthful exuberance no man had seen from Ripper all morning. My man! That’s how it’s done boys!
Thanks to all who came out. You men lift me up, put me on the right course, keep me going when other parts of my life get me down. Was an honor to lead you this morning, and I hope that despite my compromised state you had a good workout and a good time.
DANGER ZONE is tomorrow. YHC out.