Exactly eleven hard-chargers sallied out in unseasonably warm, clammy gloom for a pax date at the Estate.
Though there were many mumblechatterers, much malingering, some salacious saunterers, resplendent refuseniks, a late lapper and even a few still-tipsy taperers from the party, in the final analysis provided by the Estate Foundation it was determined that a good workout and a good time was had by all.
Rodeo’s suggestion that we accomplish WWII sit-ups in the sopping grass was met by a rousing chorus of Huzzahs!
That’s a lie. His suggestion was met by crickets and possibly one cry of “WTF Rodeo?!”
YHC had to resort to rough talk to quell a mutiny started by Turnpike’s man-maker-planks.
Camelback is tee’d up for the Huntersville Half! Crocs will be volunteering and mumble chattering to all runners who amble by.
Happy double nickels to Carpetbagger, who we learned was named by Dredd his own self.
Happy Gilmore was there for the whole thing. And by whole thing I mean the entire 15 minutes of standing around before the workout started.
At coffeeteria we discussed Nacho’s varied music career as a drummer and learned that mild-mannered Turnpike is a hard-rocker. We all agree that Robert Plant is still a dreamboat.
Nice work men!
Goat sends.