7 hard-chargers sallied forth in some near-perfect gloom for the Isotope Early Bird Special known as Berean. Well, actually we sort of convened from various points for a rolling launch that picked up attendees as we went. Always the rebellious types, Bel-Air and Crocs chose to park and launch from their own special bromance lair (in spite of the exquisite pre-blast that we collectively determined was, in fact, published). Hippie emerged from the parking deck. Toxic was somewhere down the street. Soprano rolled in hot in the Omnia-mobile (similar to an AMC Matador). Only Canuck followed the normal arrival and parking protocol, which itself is rebellious because Canuck usually is the rebellious one.
This raggedy band of scallywags proceeded with a standard Heaven and Hell offering, which ensured plenty of cardio, strength and mobility movements. We politely promenaded, pulled, pushed and posed hither an yon throughout the holiday magic of Birkdale (where big city bankers find true love and open quaint coffee shops).
Bel-Air was back in the fold after hosting visitors over the holidays, and he worked valiantly to work off his Chinese Buffets.
At one point Crocs made an astronomical observation about planet fitness. Is Pluto a planet? Uranus? Crocs has a fool-proof formula for that determination.
We prayed for various intentions, and then 85.71% of the pax adjourned to some Monday Morning Quarterbacking, where we solved some world problems, and likely created a few. That’s a good start to the week ya filthy animals.
GG sends.