Somehow, YHC was assigned a VQ on my birthday, the Pax were very excited to hear such great news. As a special treat, Swinger wore a sweet tank top to show off the guns. Snips especially was excited to plan for birthday Merkins to end the morning, which made me think of Robert Burns:
The best-laid schemes o’ mice an’ men
Gang aft agley,
An’ lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain,
For promis’d joy!
Grief and Pain…I think there may be a future workout in there…
Warmup:
The Thang:
YHC asked “Who doesn’t love a party for their birthday?” The Pax all vigorously agreed that parties were great because they thought cake was coming. Cake was not coming. Instead, we’ll be having a block party! The Pax gathered their blocks and made friends, just like you’d do at a party. The Pax probably asked the block their name, but didn’t listen because the Pax were just waiting to say their name, just like you’d do at a party.
Let’s mosey to a half wall. Our new friend maybe had too much to drink, so we need to help him up when he falls.
Some might say that 39 years is almost over the hill. YHC wants company as he travels over that hill. Let’s mosey to one so we can do it together.
The key to maintaining a healthy friendship is spending time together, but maintaining separate interests.
The routine: do the exercise with the block at the bottom of the hill, as soon as the first Pax finishes x39, all run up and down the hill together without the blocks.
It was somewhere around here that we lost babyface to a knee injury. All the Pax were concerned to see him go—hopefully he heals up quickly!
Car up! We left our blocks in the road! Woody helped move them out of the way.
Cannonball expressed his interest in leaving the block party, but first it was time to mop the floors and clean up.
COT
YHC shares a birthday with EB White, and I have real admiration for him as an author. Birthdays are often a time to reflect on life, and one of the main themes of his book, Charlotte’s Web, is the cycles in life, exemplified by this quote:
The crickets sang in the grasses. They sang the song of summer’s ending, a sad monotonous song. “Summer is over and gone, over and gone, over and gone. Summer is dying, dying.” A little maple tree heard the cricket song and turned bright red with anxiety.
The crickets felt it was their duty to warn everybody that summertime cannot last forever. Even on the most beautiful days in the whole year — the days when summer is changing into fall the crickets spread the rumor of sadness and change.
…
“Summer is over and gone,” repeated the crickets. “How many nights till frost?” sang the crickets. “Good-bye, summer, good-bye, good-bye!”
We all know crickets. They have their job. Let’s not do it for them.
Birthday Merkins. I was told not to google these. I did. And found this:
Anyway, we did 39 and one for good luck. And they hurt. Grief and pain…
Announcements:
Glow run tomorrow night
Tanglewood is coming up!
Preblast for tomorrow: bring weighted backpack as we will be rucking.
Prayers:
Snips’ wife and family as they deal with the loss of a pet.
The Teague family as they deal with a serious injury
Woody’s aunt as she fights cancer
Hanger‘s dad as he recovers from surgery.
Cannonball was pretty worn out:
The Pax had wildly different calorie counts, but I think it clearly broke 1000. Or, like a million maybe.
Comments are closed