Free Fitness Movement. All you need to do is show up!
News from San Francisco, CA.
Join us every:
– Wednesday @6:30am – Mission Dolores Park
– Friday @6:30am – check out our Facebook page for details on various hills that we’re tackling.
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Springtime in San Francisco has officially arrived. With this comes oddly hot weather followed immediately by freezing weather for NO APPARENT REASON. Spring brings a light rain shower that eventually turns into 14 straight days of rain and not knowing what it feels like to be dry anymore. Spring brings extra hours of morning daylight which means girls start wearing make up to NP workouts. We welcome spring with open arms. Get at me son.
Passerby: “Oh that all sounds great, I’ll look you guys up online…what did you say you’re called…November’s Children?”
This question, that is so innocent and harmless, gave me such an uncomfortable squeamish feeling that I laughed all the way home. My mind immediately went to such extremes, from the earliest of days of NP. Brogan and Bojan sitting in Bojan’s Allston home hovering over their excel spreadsheet in which Bojan turns to BG, “What should we title this workout?” Which Brogan proudly exclaims “November’s Children. BOOM.” Creepy.
After the April Project truth was revealed and Kenny Wong was exposed to be the writer, creator and all around funny man behind it, the tribe began to question the authenticity of all the blog posts. Does Kenny Wong control all social media? Does he write every blog post? Do Laura and Clayton conference call Kenny every Tuesday night to learn what the workout is for the next morning? Does he write the “script” for the “rock show” we put on every Wednesday pre workout? (Record scratch).
Let’s get real, people. This was not our first run in the rain. San Francisco is actually one of the rainier cities in California, but we have been pampered the last few months with a fake winter. A Fauxinter, if you would. So naturally when I crawled out of bed this morning (sometimes I actually crawl on all 4’s to the bathroom) and heard the torrential rain outside my window I contemplated not going to NP. I thought, “ehhhhhh, there’s a 70% chance Clayton will show up today, a 4% chance he will be on time, and a 92% chance that if neither of us show up that Paddy will lead the workout and declare it some sort of National Irish holiday.” Those were good odds.
If the goal this morning was to shut the F up and get a badass hill workout in without anyone calling the cops, then maybe we approached this all wrong. Granted, to the best of our knowledge we were successful, but when 75 some odd people gather on a dimly lit street corner in a residential neighborhood at 6:30am wearing head to toe black spandex (including face masks), it suddenly dawns on McClayton that while we may avoid a noise complaint, we probably just jumped up a few notches on the FBI’s watch list. You’ll notice I already assume we’re on the watch list to begin with… Point being, please keep a keen eye out for any suspicious men in suits following you around over the weekend.
Tribe, I have a confession to make: I am already sore from this morning’s workout.
And I only did about 65% of it.
It’s this pain that runs from my low back up to my upper traps, down my arms to the backs of my legs. And it feels incredible. I hope I am not alone in this. I hope that right now you are on the MUNI reading this blog post, next to the guy with the oversized backpack who every single morning turns quickly and knocks you over unapologetically like a fucking wrecking ball, sans Miley Cyrus. That guy doesn’t have burning calf muscles from the last hill climb of the ‘chaos lap.’ That guy doesn’t even know what a ‘chaos lap’ is. Well, maybe he thinks he does, but his definition consists of the TL on a Thursday night, Walt White, and a wad of cash. Can you actually ask him what he thinks a chaos lap is? Don’t worry, we’ll wait.
Fridays are typically reserved for hills. Did I say hills? I meant walls. I meant mountains. I meant sidewalks with stairs. I meant park your car at a 90 degree angle, e-brake or else, San Andreas Fault, State Farm is there, with a renegade can of soup that fell out of your grocery bag and went cascading down the asphalt like a bat out of hell, please don’t hit a Tesla type of hills. Hills that make you reconsider friendships with the people who live at the top of them. But this Friday we decided to do things a little differently. This Friday we had Friday FLATS!
Legs burning and heart pounding, I cover the last few feet to the top of the hill. Waiting for me, on either side, is my November Project Tribe. They shout my name and give me high fives as I crest the hill, chest heaving. Bending over, I place my hands on my knees and catch my breath. As I look up, the sun has just finished cresting above the horizon, casting a beautiful orange glow across the whole city that is laid out so brilliantly before me. As I slowly rise and soak it all in, calmness sets over me and makes me smile.
I blacked out the last 10 minutes of that workout. Probably during the Chaos Lap.
Wisconsin notes:
-“The Vortex” came back with whirl of new categories
-Some of these categories offended people
-Some of these categories only Gil fit the description of (i.e. “Your AIM screen name had the numbers 69 in it”)
Many didn’t know Barnum The Dog before this morning, but Barnum has a long history with Bernal Heights. You see, months ago, a few of your favorite (or least favorite, depending on your preference) runners went to Bernal Heights for a little NP extracurricular activity and Sam Livermore thought it would be a great place for Barnum to stretch his 2 inches legs. Not 10 minutes after arriving, Sam shouts “BARNUM? BARNUM? BARNUM! GUYS! BARNUM FELL OFF A CLIFF!!”