I had the Q juice flowing this morning….weird. I wasn’t Qing the Extender, and I’m not qualified to Q a ruck. This is only my 3rd ruck, and my rucksack is an 18 year old raggedy Spanish backer filled (on this morning) with laundry detergent and a Tory Burch coffee table book. I later threw in some thick work pamphlets to bring her up to 20-teenish pounds.
None of this is really important, other than to say I’m a casual Rucker, and had been a skeptic. Partly, because my last ruck was in March at 4:45 am in 7 inches of snow. I know. You’re dying to sign up.
But I now love rucking. It’s fun. You don’t have to have all the latest gear (but I will be reaching out to Gypsy….errr…Swifty) to get a plate.) The “grab the heaviest stuff you see as you walk out the door technique” isn’t working. Best part about rucking is the 2rd F. Of all the F’s – this is my best! By far. By a lot. Like a whole lot! Trying to be better at the 3st F, and if you’re actually reading this B.B.-then you know how deficient I am on the 1nd F. Anyhow, here’s what went down:
Best weather of the year. 55 and gloomy.
Everyone but me had awesome Ruck stuff on. My short and shirts matched the Extender flag though. More on that later.
1 more than they had at the O pre ruck. Hi Gillespie.
Rucked for 2.5ish miles in 40ish minutes. Fun. Laughed. Learned about others. Smiled. Relaxed. Rucking is fun. Give it a try.
Naked Moleskin? I think that’s what it’s called
I can’t do much around the house. Tool box is the top drawer next to our computer. Consists of a Hammer, a few screwdrivers, a flashlight with dead batteries, and a cool Swiss army like tool that we use once a year to open toys at Christmas that are locked up like Ft. Knox.
So when Zartan strongly encouraged me to make a flag….I was avoiding him like Orange Theory. Then he dropped off a pre drilled shovel in my yard. It stayed under my portico for a bit. I was intimidated. Then Glenn Ross offered his bank’s graphics designer to help me with the flag. Welp. Guess I should design something…..still intimidated. Then the flag came in. Crap. I need sandpaper. And spray paint. And gorilla glue. And letters….wait…no I don’t need letters. Glenn dropped those off in my mailbox. Hand holding much? Yes. I’m needy. And a flag pole. And lacquer. And a hacksaw. The hacksaw I purchased could saw off a shotgun according to the sketchy Home Depot dude that help me.
No more excuses. It’s time to go to work. I really had a lot of fun building this flag. I also thought a lot about the extender’s name sake; Erik – who passed away far too early. In a weird way, building that flag gave me a strong sense of accomplishment…and felt like a cool way to keep Erik’s spirit and zest for life front and center each and every Thursday. He’d a killed F3. Eaten it up.
Special thanks to my M for putting the letters on sorta straight, and to my 2.0’s peeling the letters until I made them stop cuz….they not so good at it. It was cool seeing how much my family realizes how much this means to me. Total team effort. I basically spray painted one coat, and told Everyone I did it by myself. And a Big thanks to Zartan for coming over late last night, having a sculpin and basically doing all the hard stuff. HIM. I got 4 hours of sleep last night. Planting that flag at The Mutt this morning gave me all the juice I needed for the ruck, the beatdown, and the day!
Hope to see you Vruckers in the gloom soon!!