July 16, 2019

Misery Loves Company.

THE SCENE: Weather was ACE! YHC showed up around 0650 with some partner work planned for about 10 or so dudes and just prayed for an even number of PAX. 21 trickled in by STARTEX! Knew I’d have to call an Omaha or two but????!!!

F3 WELCOME & DISCLAIMER: PAX welcomed. Disclaimer claimed. F3 mission stated. PAX were encouraged to step up and Q a workout as soon as possible.


  • SSH x25IC
  • SSGT x15IC
  • Butt Kickers /w Michael Phelps
  • Daisy Pickers**
  • Mosey to the cement stage next to the lake.

Partner 11’s routine using partner assisted Get-Ups and Crawl-Under/Jump-Over. 20 yards of travel alternating between Wheelbarrows and Buddy Carry. The sweat soaked midwife noises started almost immediately which was motivating music to my ear holes. The sensation felt by YHC was like biting into a York Peppermint Patty.

Pirtle joined us around half way through after having posted to the Barracks black-ops and then running 4 miles. Bro ain’t no sissy lil girl!

Back down to the walking path for 100 yards of Leap Frog.

Mosey back to the stage. P1 holds plank. P2 box jumps up the steps to the platform and reverse jump back down. Repeat and flapjack until both partners have completed 4 rounds.

Mosey back to STARTEX arriving precisely at 0800.

MARY: either fartsacked or posted with FiA.

22 PAX. See picture above.

Had nothing for COT but I was moved and challenged by this poem that Beant’an shared on Slack.

If – Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you
    Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
    But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
    Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
    And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
    If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
    And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
    Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
    And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
    And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
    And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
    To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
    Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
    Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
    If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
    With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
    And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!

Thanks to the men for enduring YHC’s jackassery this morning. At least there were plenty of people walking by and filming us with their phones so now we look like idiots on the internet.

Bailout scheduled like 83 PAX for their VQs this morning!

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