Nothing like taking your phone out of airplane mode at 5:33am to see that “Hey, man, need a favor” text from your favorite jam band loving, stolen truck driving, god of a man Riptide. But that’s what we do, right? Pick a man up when he’s down, take his Q when the M is sick. Being freed to lead means stepping up and doing it.
And so, gentlemen and scholars, and Callahan, I arrived at Claymore for the first time ever, ready to do what I do best: bringing the pain and concussive-like symptoms.
After a near-perfect disclaimer, 9 lads and YHC took a nice warm-up cruise around the park so I could get a lay of the land. It took about 6 steps for Frisco to start his banter which led directly into 10 burpees. After a genteel warm-up, the PAX headed to the tennis courts for a variety of enjoyable exercises, such as burpees, people’s chair, gorilla walks and bear crawls, and some squats for good measure. We then moseyed on over to the rock pile for some rockommunity that included sets of curls, presses, rows, extensions, and after someone said ‘at least there are no burpees,’ rockees.
Mary was mini-Q school. With several of the PAX having never Q’d, it seemed a good time to help them get in some practice by having each member of the PAX call a Mary exercise. Good work men!