About six months ago, we decided to try a night ruck. On a Wednesday. And to end with a Waffle House feast. Twice a month ever since. Some of the best camaraderie of my adult life has come from these rucks, and I won’t miss a single one if I can help it.
Number of Pax: 3
Pax Names: Gut Check, Hass, Hooch
Warm-O-Rama: Starsky appearance by Woodwind just before Startex, toting around his GF. Hass and Gut Check join me for my favorite fitness activity, which I only learned about a bit more than a year ago. Two days of rain in the books, but not a drop the first two hours of this evening. And you gotta love Georgia - rucking in shorts and short-sleeves two days before November.
The Thang: We rucked south out of the Woodstock Amphitheater, through the Hubbard Road neighborhood and down Main Street to 92. Hass made sure I didn't have any merkins in store, because I tore his shoulder up two weeks ago. Gut Check didn't want to do merkins, because Ralphie made him do too many that morning. I always have a hard time deciding whether to turn the dial up or down based on mumblechatter/requests/whining.
Just past the vacant lot GC is eyeing for potential purchase and relocation, we stopped for some PT and a brief, mobile shout out to Sprout in the Vacuums, Etc./My Eye Dr. parking lot. The ruck-on derkins left asphalt impressions in our palms for a good 1/4 mile.
Continued west to Molly Lane and let Jesus hold the flag in His Hands while we hit some more pronounced PT at mile 3.0. Ruck curls of various intensities and styles, American Ruck Hammers, Ruck Presses, Flutter Kicks, and rucks back on for the big apex, the gem of the evening, the clima.... nope. Just Manny the watchman with his cute little minivan, motioning for us to turn ourselves around and not get to explore the trendy new housing district up above HH and Target. The calmness with which he asked what we were doing was endearing.
Circuitous parking lot jig jag out and across 92. Gut Check spies possibly the funniest roadside-beggar-person sign I've ever laid eyes on, and YHC can't resist indulging in a quick pic. Why does he put up with me? True friend right there.
Kept a good pace all night, even when the mist rolled in after crossing the creek. Back up to Main Street and DTW, PT on the amphitheater stage (Hass real man ruck row's, GC something less than memorable apparently, and YHC something even less memorable followed by ruckless LBFC's). Back to the flag, then COT at WaHo (best idea since sliced waffles).
COT: We shared some of the best fellowship around the Waffle House table - more helpful and meaningful stuff than we ever get to around the shovel flag. Parenting, marriage, and attitude were the focus. Oh, and also fine breakfast fixins. I know I blabber all kinds of niceties in these things, but I really do appreciate my bros, Hass and Gut Check. Two outstanding men I emulate and truly enjoy. Thank you for being a part of my life, men.
Naked Man Moleskin: Homeless. Not a Prostitute. Happy Halloween.