F3 Knoxville

A yellow jacket is predatory social wasp of the genera Vespula and Dolichovespula

Four hours and seventeen minutes ago our F3 brothers brought forth upon this county park, a Saturday Q, conceived on an index card the previous night, and dedicated to the proposition that sweating ourselves down to a lower weight class is not just for high school wrestlers.

We became engaged in a great natural war, testing whether that Saturday pax, or any pax that goes to Area 51 by the back way can long endure. We were met on a great battle-field of that war. I have come to dedicate a portion of this backblast, as a final resting place for those who there gave their lower calves, and their miserable waspy stingers, that that pax might continue on to meet Jack Webb. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.

But in a larger sense, we can not kill all the wasps – we can not drink enough diphenhydramine – we can not send Abcess out there with a can of RAID like we did at the Space Ship.  The brave men and wasps, and their stingers and calves who struggled there, have consecrated it, far beyond our poor power to add or detract. Google will little note, nor long direct internet traffic to what we say here, but Scoreboard will probably never forget the new words he heard yelled by Pele. It is for us the sore and sweaty, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought there have thus far so nobly advanced. From these honored wasps and calves we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion – that we here highly resolve that this pax, under Lilydipper, shall drink a bunch of Benadryl. And that Saturday Nap of the pax, by the pax, and for the pax, shall happen this afternoon.


The Crown

THE SCENE: The 4th of July is over and great as our country is, we might be a little self absorbed and could stand to consider somebody else’s homeland for a minute. 

Fish & Chips x25 IC

Camilla Parker-Bowles x10

The Bollocks (everybody is good for ten more years, Science promises!)

The Picadilly

Harry Kane on baseline. Kyle Walker to the other side. Bear crawl to pick a rock.

The Denmark, which I forgot in the warmup.

Round the circle AMRAP laps. Many authentic and respectful English excercises, including the Wanker, the Tosser, and some others that I don’t remember.

Up mini cardiac for another Denmark,

15-10-5: Dips, HR Merkins, LBCs, Flutters, Al Gore until 6, all on our way down Cardiac.

Coolio guided us to safety, and Crab Legs stretched us out to end things.

The big praise was that QVC showed up today
Followers of Jesus, as a whole in this country, may not be recognized as being “peaceable, gentle, open to reason, full of mercy” (to quote the apostle James). Surely it’s our responsibility in the public square and on twitter as much as it is in our personal relationships.

Saturday Morning BOGO

Clear, cool, and Qless was the forecast Friday afternoon. In a perfect world, that Q would have belonged to Lilydipper, but an uncooperative hip has other ideas. Crawdad won’t stand for an open Saturday Q. He made some decisions. He placed some calls. Continue reading if you’d like the details, but the summary is that it takes two men to do what one Lily does.

We took em to 100. Tie Fighters, The Junk Science, some stretching, and 10 burpees for Snitch, who I’ve never seen come in late, ever, so he must have had some serious business to do this morning. I didn’t ask but I’m betting Cheet Sheet was similarly relieved when he arrived.
The first part of this BOGO was to discover that our Non Privately Owned Naturally Occurring Mineral Formations (NOPO-NOMIFs) were just laying there beneath the trees, as nature presumably left them. Partner AMRAPs as some stragglers caught up, curls, presses, rows, more curls. All I know is that a lot of you have way more reps in you than I do.

Catch Me If You Can w/5 burpees up baby Everest and down the Dragon. Deposit the NOPOs and begin the second part of the BOGO.

We built pyramids on the Cloud, with Crawdad bringing out his famous Louisiana Whistle. Box Jumps, Irkins, Dips, Derkins, Merkins. Unless you cut your reps, your arms were jelly.

Recovering on our feet, we made our way to the dustbowl and some Doras. 200 reps and then another 100 of whatever you wanted.

Back to AO for Mary AND a visit to the ATM.

Welcome Scott W, Billy Goat!

Your F3 friends are a deep and wide pool of help and challenge. You’d be nuts not to lean on them when you need to. It would be a waste to not be challenged by them. You’d be foolish not to step in and try to lead.

Hello Darlin

SSH, Tie Fighters, Butts-Up, Preachers, etc.
Unlike CMUs, rocks found in the woods can’t be thought of as private property, and they don’t seem like huge threats to children’s safety. There happened to be some (rocks not kids), so we took them out for a shuffle.

We did the Hands Fast Ten, then over to the Caribbean.

Laps around the islands, 20-15-10-5 reps each lap, with and without our naturally occurring, non privately owned and totally harmless companions. Q has to admit that he cheated his reps on the hand release merkins. Let this be a lesson to everyone that if you can’t do it, you shouldn’t Q it. Conway got Ribbed pumped up, and I failed Kentucky by not playing “Borderline” by MDNA. She was next on the playlist!

Lesslie Newbigin said that rational doubt always rests on faith and not vice versa.

Son of a Preacher Man

THE SCENE: Y’all knew it was going to be cold and wet, and you dragged yourselves out there anyway. Q’s got to up his game on a day like that.  

I don’t know anything at all about working out except what I learned from the pax, so SSH (thanks every single Q ever), Cherry Pickers (no thanks to whoever mis-named them), Rockettes, The Junk Science (my humble contribution; you’re welcome), and in honor of the high desert’s very own Preacher, we did The Preacher. Bumped from 10 to 15 after a fittingly profane text from Tucson.
A little Route 66 inspired by Lily. The Cloud gave us some Box Baby Boxes, and because there is apparently some unresolved conflict in my life, we visited with my old buddy Jack Webb.

Light rain and a light mosey towards Cardiac but not quite to Cardiac. Picked up some babies by the side of the road and shared them with our buddies. Shout out to Honeydew for carrying the two of us through the Doras.

There comes a time in a man’s life when whatever’s inside has to come out, and Cardiac is built for just such a purpose.

What happens during the Crawdad Comeback is both private and communal; a man experiences his limitations and his freedom; there is running forward and in reverse. It is a time of paradox and, potentially, vomit.

The great Mickey won the final sprint to the AO, and by an embarrassingly wide margin. *Author’s note, he donated the winner’s proceeds to Jumbo, who had wisely saved his energies for his forthcoming 100m breaststroke domination in Kingsport today.

It being the weekend, we cashed out like men, and then we limped away.

“Man has places in his heart which do not yet exist, and into them enters suffering in order that they may have existence.” Leon Bloy, with thanks to John Stone.
AE soccer game at Regal stadium Thursday. There was a Jinx sighting at Thursday’s board meeting! Word on the street is that High Heels prefers his lake house to sweating with us on Saturdays from now until like October.