YHC (Captain Insane-o; it’s ironic) will be the Q on 12/26 at the Rooster. For those of you who don’t know, this day also happens to be my birthday, and according to official records from the Hoosier State, it’s a birthday for sure. 4-0. That’s right; this fair-haired, smedium wearing, pre-teen haircut having, kinda think I know that guy, burpee loving, dad of three, husband to the Admiral is that OLD.
But here’s the thing. Right now, I don’t feel that old. I feel great. Hasn’t always been that way. I wrote a song about it; wanna hear it; here it goes…
About two years ago I burned out on running. I was always injured; my IT bands felt like twisted steel on red hot spikes; my back — woof — it was jacked. I’d wake up with numb legs, and somehow I’d injured myself in a pool swimming. Two truths: I was training for a triathlon when I hurt my shoulder swimming (so goofy, but at least it sounds kinda cool; and no, I never did the tri. I was hurt, man), but even worse, I’d re-injured my back carrying a princess castle up the steps. So yea, I was in OK running shape, but I was falling apart. “Ta’boot”, I’d been bested by a princess castle, and I wasn’t even trying to fight her.
It sucked physically, and it drained me mentally. So, I made a personal commitment to myself to be in the best shape of my life by 40. I owed it to my M (who is awesome; Admiral Insane-o to you swabs) and to my 2.0s (who are, likewise, awesome; the Ensigns). Also, it sucks to have to hoist your own legs out of bed, Misery-style.
I’ll tell anyone what I did (if you’re interested, or have similar wussy symptoms (not wussy at all really; it f’in hurt all the time)), but the next 15 months involved kettlebells (which saved my back), weights, a bike, HIIT, yoga and some diet changes. I was feeling pretty good. Back felt strong. Shoulder was meh (shameless plug for Enya here who fixed me up the other day). But I was in way better shape on the whole. I was still not there, and the real problem was that I’d hit a major plateau. It was both physical and mental. I was bored. I was contemplating boxing or MMA training, and for those that know me, that’s crazy because it could mess with the money-maker.
Right about May of this year Jordy (where’s he been anyway?) hit me up (right around that 15 month mark) and demanded I show up in a local park on Saturday morning at 0645 to workout.
Pfffffft! Riiiiiiooooooght.
But then he said our mutual good friend Jody (KY in F3Metro) would be there, and that would be my only chance to catch up. So at the very least, I should come to see him. I’ll admit, I almost bailed. In fact, as I recall, it was the last thing I wanted to do.
I showed up, though. Lots of familiar faces, most of whom are still part of the Pax, like Red Roof, Star Child, Mayberry, Cutlass (who also had his first post that day), Cardinal (also his first post), Jordy (of course; also first post) and others. But all semblance of normalcy left as soon as 0700 came. KY kept being called “KY” by some guy he kept calling “Sauerkraut”. And why in the hell did they keep talking about pubic toupees? Side straddle hops? Whaaaa? Just call it a jumping jack. What’s next? Tickle fights…. Uhhhh, noooo. We did all kinds of crazy stuff. KY ran us ragged. I was planking (forward resting ready position) and it was hard. Super. Then, Sauerkraut took over, and it got realer. Fast. But it was cool, ’cause we were talking trash. And guys were encouraging each other. Then, we got to the end and we laughed a ton in COT. We reminisced. I figured out why Pitino was such as stud; he’d been doing this for years. I saw guys I hadn’t seen in years. I reconnected with old friends. I HC’d (didn’t know it at the time) to return. I did. I Q’d a couple of posts later. IT WAS ON.
So, you may be asking, why CI are you writing this long pre-blast; we only want to know Burpees or no Burpees? Well, I wanted to tell this story (like Humpty, it’s obvious, I also like to write), but more importantly it’s because my goal date is in sight.
And I’m going to fail.
I’m not going to get to the best shape of my life by 40.
And I’m totally cool with that. “Wait, what?” “CI, you described yourself as being the opposite of looser than the town prostitute. How can this be?”
Because F3 has taught me that I can always get better, and that I will always get better. Of course, I knew that, but F3 has driven that nail into my brain. Every morning when I don’t want to go, I go, and every time I feel better. Every time it’s hard, but it’s always great. And I’m always improving. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m much more physically fit than I was at 38 or 39. More importantly, though, I’m getting mentally fit; happier, more easy going (closer to loose), less worried about stuff that doesn’t matter. If I can get up and do this hard stuff, the rest of the day is kind of cake. I’ve been part of a group now for 8 months that’s exposed me to more public service than I’ve done in the past 8 years. And my circle of friends has grown so large and so strong; I can’t even express in words what this means to me. In short, I’m getting better and although I’m 40, I have room to get even better. And that’s phenomenal. I’m fine to miss this goal.
So, I invite you to come be part of the Pax during my Q on the 26th. It’s going to be fun. It may be hard. Also, I’m going to let you give me gifts (which I will in turn return to you. Just a tip, we better know 40 distinct exercises or there will be Burpees). No real gifts (but I’m a smedium, 32×31 and blue and green compliment my eyes), please. Come get better.
Who: All men who want to get better
What: A boot camp style CI beat down
When: 12/26 at 0530
Where: The Rooster at the Mutt
How: Through pure indomitable will
Why: Because men should do things. Men should always get better.
F3 Louisville 