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Date/Time
Date(s) - 08/03/2022
5:30 am - 6:15 am
Site Q - Lyman
Location
Field of Dreams
Categories
Large park with running paths, soccer fields, playground, and parking lot for what can be an epic boot camp style beatdown!
Pax: Lyman, Hannibal, Footloose, Fat Amy, Doubtfire, Woodstock, Gulliver, Rudy, Van Gogh
Q: Isosceles
We played some war games. Pax carried a ruck sack, two spears, and 2 10 lbs plates. Guys carrying equipment had to duck walk. Guys without equipment had to crawl, bear crawl, or army crawl there way to each target. All together we traveled close to 4,000 ft to take out 4 targets. Footloose missed a “target” which was a defenseless ballon at point blank range. PAX asked him to retreat and start making breakfast lol.
Read below about the “real” balloon story.
Off in the distance I saw a gray fox — a visual reincarnation of an ancient ancestor. I searched deep inside of my self as if to summon up my French Huguenot bloodline. I sized up the balloon The white coat smoldered like a glacier at dusk. The feel of the wind brought a glimpse of relief to my aching, stiff muscles from bear crawling nearly 300 yards and through baron waste land to reach my carbon dioxide-rich foe. The feel of a weapon in the shape of a spear caused my inner soul to tremble in excitement. Both hands were clinched causing my knuckles to ache. As if I was retrieving ex caliber from her stone abode, I slowly raised my arms above my head with the spear sharply splitting my profile. And in one swift motion to cancel my opponent as if I was showing mercy to an injured horse, I thrust my blade towards the unsuspecting balloon. With eyes clinched tight in anticipation of an unsettling noise of pain and death the spear lunged towards the air-filled target. Feeling the eyes of my comrads, a sense of pride engulfed my heart as the sudden thud of terra firma sent jarring shockwaves through the spear, into my hands and down my spine believing that the ballon and inhaled it’s last breath. A sense of confusion suddenly inserted into the depths of my soul as the sound of laughter that pierces much sharper than a spear slivered into my ear drum. The task that I had set before myself was apparently to tall and too daunting. I stood there like a mime on broadway gazing at my unchallenged opponent only to realize that “I” was the one who was defeated.
— Footloose —
*deflated