Black Ice, Black Schmice

Three motivated men of hard choices posted to the Martin Luther King, Jr. Day edition of The Hoedown. Temperatures were 70 and sunny. According to the drivers on Forest, the following might have happened:

Parking lot tracers. Pick up Plus One.

Parking lot tracers with Plus One.

COP

SSHs x60 (4 count)
Dead man hang
Right leg high, left leg high, drop the hips, pigeon right, pigeon left
Imperial walkers
Don Quixote (Froggy did something funny, and Handshake wasn’t there to comment)
WWIIs
Reverse crunches

Mosey to the teacher parking lot for parking space intervals. 3 merkins, 3 WWIIs, 3 squats at each parking space.

Mosey to the front of the school…but, walk the steps, which actually have no ice.

Starting at the bike rack, 5 merkins, run to the front door and back, then 10 dips. 3 rounds, bro-code.

Mosey to the “attractive nuisance” known as the Third Church Parking Lot. (No actual injuries or insurance claims were incurred.)

Triple check…one man runs across to the school, one man does WWIIs and Carolina Dry Docks. 3 rounds. Make sure to call out the curbs. Do this every.single.time.

Touch-a-Tree. 5 trees. WWIIs and reverse crunches. Or, something like that.

Mosey back to the virtual shovel flag with a history lesson about kicking a curb accidentally (“Goldberg!” Or “Gomer”).

Numbers…Froggy…Numbers!…Names, and YHC took us out.

Announcements:

Pigskin is leading The Bridge on Saturday, January 24 (this weekend). It will be cold, which is more of a reason to go. When Pigskin’s leading, get on the bus. Push off is early Saturday morning, return by about 10:30. This is a great opportunity to be an Actual HIM.

Breaking Bread…Saturday evening…make dinner for 8-12 humans recovering from medical issues. These are people in need. WWJD? He’d help. Another opportunity to be an Actual HIM.

Requests:

Prayers for my high school pal, Becca. She has glioblastoma (brain cancer). Almost no treatments available. Short term outlook. 53. Good human.

For our country. As one PAX member described it, “What a mess.” Indeed. Self-inflicted mess.