4 PAX made it out on a wet, 45 degree morning that was surprisingly much warmer than it sounds. Paper Cut rocked it out in short sleeves. With 4 PAX and a Q in his rookie season the vibe was unusually laid back. Rounding out Veteran’s Day weekend, all reps today were x 16 in remembrance of the 16 years that our armed forces have been gutting it out in Afghanistan (except for the few that accidentally were cut short at 15 due to cadence malfunctions).
Papercut & Marmalade for a 2 mile run.
- Side Straddle Hop x 16
- Sir Fazio Arm Circles x 16 Seal Claps x 16 Reverse Sir Fazio x 16
- Calf Raises x 16
- Mountain Climber x 16
After a lap around the track we moseyed to the rock pile, selected rocks and proceeded to the tennis courts, aka “the box”
- Rock Curl x 16 court sprint & back Gorilla Squats x 16
- Squatting Overhead Rock Press x 16 court sprint & back Prayer Squats x 16
- Tricep Extensions x 16 court sprint & back Gorilla Squats x 16
- Bent-over Row x 16 court sprint & back Prayer Squats x 16
- mosey to pavilion
- Tabletop Freddy Mercury x 16
- Left Right Step-Up x 16
- Erkins x 16
- Dips x 16
- Run a lap around the track
We made it 2.5 times thru this curcuit
- Tabletop Freddy Mercury x 16
- Mountain Climbers x 16
- Downward Dog x 1 min
- Plank hold x 1 min
- Good Mornings x 16
No announcements, no prayer requests, awkward 4 PAX Name-O-Rama.
A short excerpt from the WWII story “A Brilliant Idea and His Own” by Mark Helprin was read. This is a story about a British paratrooper who has been dropped behind enemy lines so that he can call in artillery fire on enemy positions prior to an offensive by Allied troops. He has been grievously wounded during the jump and now must decide whether to fall asleep and die or get up and do his job. Probably the most F3 thing I’ve ever read.
“For the second time on the roof he awoke in heat and glare, and when he heard the shelling pick up he stirred, eager to get about his work now that he could. He was sick and wanted to stay still. The slightest movement was painful and nauseating. Though his fever had partially abated, even in the absence of morphine he was not quite himself. He knew that it was best not to move, that he had to let things settle, and the prospect of reopening his wounds by strain contradicted every natural impulse.
But upon going into battle-at the instant he volunteered, in the moment he accepted his orders, when the plane had left the ground, and when he had stepped from it into the explosions and flak-he had already written himself off in the quiet way that allows soldiers to do their duty even unto extinction. The more he presumed he would not last, the better he was able to take satisfaction from doing what was required. The delight of honor unknown to anyone but himself would have to substitute for a life that no longer laid ahead.
Injecting morphine, raising himself, finally standing, and taking his telescope, radio, and maps to the parapet was for him as meaningful as the coronation of a king, for like a king who has taken a solemn oath, he had abandoned his private self.”
-Mark Helprin from his incredible collection of short stories, The Pacific and Other Stories