Pax assembled to visit the far reaches of our Brickyard AO….Iron Thunder Saloon….the location had two purposes….first to deliver the usual butt-whoopin' it's known for and secondly to eliminate any excuse from the pax they couldn't find tomorrow night's HDHH for planning our inaugural participation in the Mooresville Christmas parade. A few of us (Hurdle and Finger) rucked and toted a sandbag for some pre-work out snuggle time. Maybe that's not the word I'm looking for.
We also named our newest FNG today….Pig Iron….reference to a line in one of Johnny Cash's obscure songs – but since, as Soul Glo explained, Johnny Cash was THE original rapper…..and Chris Mcconnaghey (FNG) – holds rapping experience…London Whale kindly connected the dots…
Apologies for missing a name – Q'd back to back and names are running together. Who'd I miss?
Warm up…
We ran. We ran a good piece down Rolling Hills to the Iron Thunder parking lot. There we ripped off some SSH's and some IST's then pounced on the workout like a fat kid on a klondike bar.
First lap
15 Mericans – run to corner – 15 squats – lunge walk or bear crawl uphil – 15 drydocks – run to nicotine/tar pit – 15 incline mericans – duck walk to top of hill – run back to start.
NOTE: It was here that we discovered that among the aromatic blend of skunk piss, goose-dootie and nicotiine/tar was the distinct smell of an Iron Thunder Burn Out Chicken Breast – fabled to be the largest breast in Mooresville. The leftover was sitting in waiting at the tar pit. A chorus of "dibs" erupted but it was left for the raccoons.
We repeated the lap working our way up to 20's then 25's. We planked a wee bit then sauntered back up the hill to our starting point.
Mary
Did a chunk of LBC's, WWII's, Sweat Angels and pillow talk before adjouring.
Moleskin
Guys chattered on aboyt the upcoming Basin Run and tomorrow night's HDHH. Prayers for TT's daughter and his family as well as other unspoken needs.
Now…picture your life without F3….that's right…..as rancid as that skunk stench….as detrimental as the tar/nicotine laced incline mericans at Iron Thunder….potential lost and never realized like that hunka chicken breast sitting all alone in the frosty, wee hours of dawn.
How could you NOT post tomorrow?