It was the kind of morning where the air sticks to you before you even move. Mid-70s, humid enough that your shirt felt damp just standing there. Twelve of us stood in the dim parking lot glow: Jester, Woz, Gutterball, Jake, Treble Maker, Copy Machine, Zima, Zippo, Dundee, Spam, Daisy, and Crampon.
The Q looked around like he was checking an attendance sheet, gave one slow nod, and said, “Alright then. Let’s go.”
DISCLAIMER
COP
ssh
etch
imperial walkers
hillbilly walkers
ttt
sticky butt kickers
lbac
seal claps
THE THANG
Round One
Ten curls. Run to the next light pole — twenty Heels to Heaven. Back to start — thirty lunges. End of the lot and back. Three times through.
Woz was already glistening like he’d been sprayed with cooking oil. Jester kept looking at his shoes like they might be a size too small but he didn’t want to say anything.
Side Plot A — The Gutterball & Zippo Plan
Halfway through, Gutterball sidled over to Zippo and said, “What if we just… skip one of these runs? Nobody’s gonna notice.”
Zippo nodded slow, like a man agreeing to rob a vending machine.
They tried it. Didn’t work. The Q spotted them at the far pole and gave that quiet little smile you see right before someone tells you to “go ahead and add 10 more lunges for good measure.”
Round Two
Ten underdogs. Run to the next light pole — twenty mountain climbers. Back to start — twenty weighted squats. End of the lot and back. Twice through.
By the second set, Daisy had the same look as a man trying to remember if he left his car running. Treble Maker asked what an “underdog” was, but didn’t wait for an answer. Probably for the best.
Side Plot B — The Mystery SUV
While we were squatting, a silver SUV cruised through the lot at about two miles an hour. The driver had sunglasses on, even though the sun wasn’t up yet. They circled once, paused, then drove away. Nobody said a word.
Round Three
Four hundred meters. Thirty squats. Twenty merkins. Ten pull-ups. Repeat until time.
By lap two, Zima’s laugh had melted into a cough, then back into a laugh. Spam kept glancing toward the edge of the lot like he expected someone to step out of the trees.
MARY
No time
CIRCLE OF TRUST
We circled up, sticky with sweat, listening to the Q talk about grit and finishing strong. The words made sense, though half the group was still thinking about that SUV.
We left without much talk. Just twelve guys walking off into a damp morning, pretending nothing unusual had happened. Which, if you think about it, is exactly what made it unusual.
PRAYER
MOLESKIN
- And I guess that was your accomplice in the wood chipper.”
ANNOUNCEMENTS
Get thee thyself to meet the mountains
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