PAX:  Duck Butter, Nipple Shot, My T Sharp, Blue Cross, Ricardo, Gobbler, Wilson, The Mooch

 

With Villa taking care of more pressing matters, YHC had an opportunity to substi-q, if you will.  Some of you may have noticed the Duckster being absent for most of the summer.  No boat falls this time fortunately, but apparently the discs in my back don’t care for their normal location.  Until some recent injections and therapy, I haven’t had normal feeling in my right leg since the #HPCSUAPMR5K, and it wasn’t right then.  But I’m back bitches, so take notice.  And to remind the PAX of the Anchor Ball I dug back into my back of tricks.

With The Mooch posting to his second career Carterican AO the core principals of F3 were cited, and he will be expected to repeat them soon.  The workout began with a mosey and we hadn’t made it 4 strides before they started.  You know who.  The twin towers My T and Nip were already jawing about proper stretching and not joining a running club.  Sheesh, somethings never change.  We yogged our way over to the bottom parking lot for

Warmarama

SSHs IC x15

Cotton Pickers IC x15 (slow and steady)

Irish Potato Pickers IC x10

Sun Gods forward IC x10 reverse IC x10

Hamstring stretches

IT Band stretches

Knievel Knee Rolls x10 (a lot of moaning here, joyous moaning, pleasure almost….weird)

And we’re off on another mosey, again the complaints about running.  This time Blue Cross is joining in.  But we mosey on to the Southeast corner of the big soccer field for

Thang 1-Four Corners

The 4 Corners is part of our vernacular thanks to legendary coach and the GOAT Dean Edward Smith.  The only thing Coach K has made famous is hair color, but I digress.  No, I don’t.  GO HEELS.  Now I digress.  No, I don’t.  DOOK SUCKS.   OK, now I’m ready.

Corner 1.  10 merkins.  Run to Corner 2.

Corner 2.  10 merkins.  10 plank jacks IC.  Bear crawl to Corner 3.

Corner 3.  10 merkins.  10 plank jacks IC.  10 squats.  Run to Corner 4.

Corner 4.  10 merkins IC.  10 plank jacks IC.  10 squats.  10 burpees.  Bear crawl back to corner 1.

A brief respite so as not to hurl and we’re back on the hoof towards the upper lot for

Thang 2-F3 Craps

With many of the PAX new and old currently building their bricks for the annual/semi-annual/monthly trip to Vegas, Duck decided to bring some game to the Anchor Ball.  Each man would have his turn rolling the dice.  Standard craps rules apply.

If someone rolled 7 or 11 with the point off, then PAX was rewarded with just a lap around the bottom lot.

If someone rolled 4, 5, 6, 8, 9, or 10 that became the point.  The PAX would run half a lap and do that dice value of merkins, plank jacks, and squats before running back to the starting point.

Rolling a 7 with the point on, would be craps.  Payable by 7 burpees, a lap with 7 merkins, 7 plank jacks, and 7 squats.  As a motorcycle enthusiast, it is alarming how little Wilson knew about craps.

Rolling the established point would reward the PAX a lap.

Get it?!?  Good.  It was fun.  The initial point was 6.  The next 7 rolls were all 10, 11, and 12s.  Ha ha ha.  A crushing blow to the PAX that led Blue Cross to leave the workout early.  He said he had to work, but rumor is he gambled on a poot and lost.  Unconfirmed rumor.  But it’s true.

Someone finally rolled the point, which rewarded the PAX with only a lap, much to the dismay of My T who so eloquently stated “what a stupid F’ing reward.  This game is bulls$%& Duck.  I’m never coming back.”  He then proceeded to roll a subsequent 12 which led Nipple to deliver a thunderous Dusty Rhodes-esque elbow drop to My T’s solar plexus.  Talk about Hard Times.

As memory serves, it was at this juncture when The Mooch, in his F3 innocence phase, asked why didn’t run fast.  He’ll learn.  But we let him spread his wings a little and run fast.

With just a little time left we hustled back to the upper lot for

Not Mary, Broga

When you’re battling a bad back, your only remedy is stretching.  A lot of stretching.  So the PAX performed my hamstring and lower back stretching routine.  Ricardo’s gas was insidious, to the point he actually was trying to get away from it.  Gobbler however, was not impressed.

We announced some stuff.

My T took us out in the ball of man.  Reminding us of the impossibility of being both blessed and stressed.

Everything aforementioned is 100% true story.  As I remember it.

Until next time kids…

DB, out.

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