Update. Oh and TBA needs your help again, twice.

Jim here for TBA.

So this was the last week of our P90X class. We signed up for another session, but we will only be doing one day a week – the idea being that we will be transitioning into more of a cardio-based program in preparation for our early, run-heavy race season.

As of today, we are 69 days away from our first marathon and we are nowhere close to being in any kind of shape to run it. If it were held tomorrow, I'm confident we could finish it, but certainly not with the sub-4-hour time that we are striving for.

Training has been going well. We've had a series of incredible strength -training days with a few cardio days mixed in. It is going to be tricky to get out of the lifting habit and into the running/riding habit. Hopefully the warmer weather will help, but I still foresee it being more difficult than trying to shove a wet noodle up a tiger's ass.

Moving along...

The demand for TBA wristbands was astounding and our supply was almost instantly overwhelmed. But worry not, more are being ordered so you can continue to send me messages about how you need/want/deserve/demand one. But you should be aware that the next version of the bracelets will not be as cool as the originals. And Matt is to blame.

Matt objected to the profanity contained in the “Hurry the fuck up” message debossed on the reverse side of the band. I personally do not see what the problem was, but so as not to offend his delicate sensibilities, I shall acquiesce to his faggot-ass grievance and change the fucking wristband text. See, there is a reason why I am so well known for my selfless attitude and eagerness to please everybody. Or maybe I caved so easily because I already have one of the original bracelets and don't give a damn what the new ones say. Direct all of your negative comments to him, as he is actually the one to blame. I mean, shit, the word “ass” is in the team name.

So anyway, because one fucking pillow-biter has a problem, I am left with the unenviable task of choosing an alternative message. No matter what I pick people are going to bitch - "I want the one that says 'fuck' ", "This new slogan is stupid", "Matt really does blow dogs for quarters"...well you see how it's going to go. That's probably the reason he bitched in the first place, so that all our your subsequent bitching would give me a fucking aneurysm.

I'm tempted to use one of the failed official motto entries from a couple months ago, but it needs to be relatively short in order to fit on the wristband. So the options are “Trample the weak” or “Nut up or shut up”. Take your pick. And please just vote for one this time. If I check my email and read "I like them both" again....voting for all options does not help the guy making the fucking decision. I should just have them all made up with “Matt is a fag” printed on the back, just for the inconvenience. (That may be going a bit too far; the “Matt is a fag” t-shirts are probably enough.)

I'm likely going to regret this, but I guess there is always the slim possibility that one of our loyal fans will come up with the winning message. I'm offering a free TBA baseball cap to whoever comes up with something better. But if your idea is shitty don't be surprised if I show up at your house and take something.

Moving right along...

TBA is currently competing in a fitness challenge sponsored by the Grand Rapids area YMCAs. It's a March Madness-style bracket challenge that pits us against other teams. To advance each team must complete a series of specified exercise programs or fitness goals (run 6 miles, complete 8 strength training exercises, ride a bike for 30 minutes, etc). In addition to the exercise program, each team must earn points by completing feel-good tasks like volunteering, reading, helping neighbors, and raising money for the YMCA Strong Kids charity. So far we have raised 80 dollars and have made it into the third round!

You can help too. Donations are tax deductible and donors will receive TBA merchandise!

If you don't help, Matt says he is going to kill a puppy. I think he means business too. Seriously, the last time I saw that look in his eye...well let's just say that when I regained consciousness, I was bare-assed naked in a truck-stop shower stall, scrubbing myself raw with a Brillo-pad and a gallon of laundry detergent. I still haven't been able to get clean. Another reason why Night Train fortified-wine ought to be illegal.

Email us at goteambadass@yahoo.com for more information or with your general, inane uselessness.