F3 Knoxville

Tag: Chiclets

Do Work. Be Happy.

THE SCENE: 

F3 WELCOME & DISCLAIMER: Done and done

WARM-O-RAMA:

SSH IC x20; LBAC IC x10ew; Tempo Squat IC x10; Tempo Merkin IC x10

THA-THANG:

  1. Mosey to STOP sign by Chapel: Partner up! One partner runs to the next STOP sign and back while the other completes: 
    1. V-ups 
    2. Hello Dolly’s 
    3. Flutter Kicks 
    4. Repeat until each partner does all three exercises.
  2. Mosey to the bottom of Route 66. Every other light pole; do a Captain Thor (1 BBS and 2 ct American Hammer), sprint to the next station. Adding 1 Captain Thor at each stop keeping the 1:2 ratio. Finish with 10:20. Kobra Kai stretches while waiting on the SIX. 
  3. Mosey to the Overlook:  
  1. Bear Crawl to the first pole; sprint back
  2. Bear Crawl to the second pole; sprint back 
  1.  Body Builder + Ghostman Baseball (Body Builder + is a Burpee/ShoulderTap/PlankJack/ToeTouch Combo)
    1. One group does “dealer’s choice abs while the other runs the bases
    2. Round 1: 
      1. 1st= 1 BB+
      2. 2nd= 2 BB+
      3. 3rd= 3 BB+
      4. 2nd= 2 BB+
      5. 1st= 1 BB+
    3. Round 2:
      1. 1st= 3 BB+
      2. 2nd= 2 BB+
      3. 3rd= 1 BB+
      4. 2nd= 2 BB+
      5. 1st= 3 BB+
  2. Return to AO 
    1. Ring of Fire: 5 → 1 Merkins  

COUNT-OFF & NAME-O-RAMA:

9 HIMs; No FNGs

CIRCLE OF TRUST/BOM:

“It is the working man who is the happy man. It is the idle man who is the miserable man.” -Benjamin Franklin

We need to be “working” constantly. Whether that is working on bettering our bodies, our minds, our spiritual life, our family life, etc. Once we become idle, we start to deteriorate. Do Work. Be Happy. 

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.