Some men choose to fade quietly into the darkness, to shield themselves from the regret of disappointing others, and disappointing themselves. Others arise from the warm comfort or their beds or the living room floor (wherever they passed out) and choose excellence over apathy. Here is a story of 9 men of excellence.
0445 YHCs new phone is super loud, I have no idea what got into it this morning but I'm gonna need somebody to tone it down before the weekend.
0503 The snooze button stops being effective and the search for socks is on
0513 Every gilead rd light is set on red
0514 customary fire text
0517ish Arrival to see a few others huddled together under the awning to protect themselves from a light sprinkling of rain.
0519ish Turnpike makes an inappropriate and uncalled for fat joke and YHC turns away in disgust and shame and we are off.
As usual the group split up into pairs and Calypso and I sprinted the first three quarters of a mile, Calypso pulling away from me. The next pair (Turnpike & Popcorn) strolled along at a conversational pace which was both annoying and impressive, then they waiting for Calypso and not me to run in the last little bit, that hurt a little but I'm working through it.
Mooch and Burgoo were there, talking, a lot, and Tbone and Duvall made it out for most of the first half. Stray came for the most important part. A solid showing all around even Mini Me shows up religiously and yet never runs. #incogthings
Side note, Popcorn made his first appearance at Caboose and while it was unexpected I did appreciate how he didn't bring his dog to crap all over the sidewalk and not pick it up. You see we had a little mini takeover last week with the Goat Busters orchestrated by Grey Ghost. At this invasion of privacy one of the more prominent (arrogant) GBs brought his pooch to the workout and then just lets it do whatever it wants to. And don't get me wrong, I love a good loyal dog, but I don't take my dog over to Birkdale and let it poop all over the place. So without naming names, clean up your crap Lego!
I digress.
When did all the Goatbusters start driving crossover suvs? I remember a few years ago they would show up like the Tigers from The Sandlot. All upidty with their custom jeep wranglers (which is the official car of teenage girls and post soccer season soccer moms) wearing their letterman jackets from that half a season of JV tennis they played until they got "hurt" and had to miss practice for SAT prep so they could get into a good college and wear multiple flipped up collared polos while their big brother in the frat stole their high school girl friend. Now they log strava miles while pushing a double stroller to the Birkdale lulu store while blasting Avril's greatest hits. And she's Canadian! I'll give credit where credit it due, the Rim 2 Rim thing was amazing, but now they are all broken and talking about how it's best to run a 1/4 mile then walk a little then run a little, I miss the old Goat Busters, who were proud of their arrogance! Dallas recruited a super team and killed a guy to beat them and still couldn't, RIP guy.
But those GBs are a thing of the past, yet the Incogs remain as strong as ever. Starting new workouts, creating a new Incog Elite brand, securing sponsorships from the finest in Athletic Rehab and Performance providers, Wealth Management firms, Comprehensive Dentists and used phone dealers. We have it all, even a marginally popular podcast, with hats! In fact, I hearby declare 2022 as the year of the Incog!
Now, let's get down to the big takeaway from this morning. Popcorn made it out this am, and I'm liking what I'm seeing from this guy. He has no idea what a 1/4ruck is but he is all in. He has that "sounds terrible, what time" attitude. I encourage each of you, especially you Black Eyed Pea, to consider joining him at the 1/4Ruck and also on his quest to not become a Goat Buster. Because whatever happens, however high gas prices go, whoever the next Nantan is, and how many of us make it back from the Charleston underbelly, Lord knows we don't need anymore Goatbuster dogs crapping on our sidewalks.
hugs and kisses, Jolly
argh