[Impromptu] Friday iMpromptu – R-E-S-P-E-C-T Edition

AO: Impromptu
Q: Tron ,
PAX: Zinfandel, Elmer’s, Mad Dog, Bottlecap, Spitz, Falcon, Tron, Chicken Little, Foundation, Damascus, Rocketman, Ricky Bobby, Recalc, Deflated, Black Hat
FNGs: None
COUNT: 15
What had happened was:
T-Ron’s 50th Birthday Beatdown 🎂💀

YHC officially celebrated the big 5-0 the only way F3 knows how: by making a bunch of grown men question their life choices before breakfast.

We kicked things off with a brief disclaimer, then moseyed over for some stretching, accompanied by the usual mumble chatter, groaning, and general skepticism regarding what the Q had planned.

Then it was off to the big lot for a STARFISH OF PAIN ⭐️
Five rounds of:
– 10 Merkins
– 10 Mountain Climbers
– 10 Squats
– 10 Speed Skaters
– 1 Burpee in the center… because apparently we needed a little extra kick in the rear.

Bottlecap lead the way, and set the tone for pace. Zinfandel set the tone for form encouraging us to go all the way in to the light pole for our burpees, and the Clydesdales brought in the 6 way to go Black Hat, Foundation for pushing hard.
>From there, we headed to Transporters Shed for some wall sits, followed by 50 jabs and approximately 47½ air presses.

Why 47½? Counting is not my strong suit, and I’m getting old.

Finally, we headed toward COT down the Yellow Brick Road, stopping for 5 squats at every light pole. Shot out to Elmer’s and Mad Dog for guiding me to and through this part. I need to Q more.

And somehow, through divine intervention, Amish technology, or sheer luck, we made it back to home base PERFECTLY ON TIME.

At COT, YHC got a little more serious.
I shared that I’ve been having some struggles lately, but that the PAX have continued to lift me up, and I’m incredibly grateful for that. I’ve also been trying to focus more on gratitude, remembering that, no matter what we’re facing, things could always be worse.

So we finished by asking each PAX to share one word that represents something they’re grateful for during Name-O-Rama.

A pretty fitting way to close out a 50th birthday beatdown.

There was sweat. There was suffering. There was laughter. There was gratitude.

And, of course, there was my counting.

Well done by all.

50 years old. Still moving. Still sweating. And still laughing.

Let’s go!