How fast a weekend goes... (Open)
Mar 25, 2014 17:06:11 GMT -5
Post by stauskasisking on Mar 25, 2014 17:06:11 GMT -5
The weekend approaches so timidly and yet is over at an alarming rate, so I'm reluctant to let any minute of it go to waste. I woke with a start early that morning for some unknown reason, and my mind was instantly put into a race of the endless possibilities that I could do with the day ahead of me. After throwing away my sheets from my topless body, I tiredly ambled towards my window and pushed apart the curtains. The day was overcast, but I could see the sun just peaking its head out of the smallest gap in the clouds, a sign of the spring.
As they all wake earlier than me during the week, my family chose to sleep in late on a weekend, often leaving me to do as a please. After dining on a breakfast of fine oats, a banana and a glass of orange squash (the perfect fuel for a hard career training session), I donned some dark training clothes and a woolen hat to keep the wind from nipping at my ears.
As always, I jogged to the training gymnasium. A daily 2 miles can work wonders for your fitness, so much so that it barely tests me any more, even on the coldest of mornings. Without knowing the exact time, it was simple to deduce that the day was still young. Not many people wandered the streets, and the only ones moving about outside of their houses were those doing early morning washing and hanging the clothes out to dry.
I pull open the stretched, black doors with the Panem seal on them to enter the training gym, and upon entering, my expression turned into that of delight! Only one person stood behind the registration desk, meaning that the gym musn't be that full yet. I notice the apparent beauty of the woman behind the desk, her face buried in a book about munition and her hair pulled back into a sleek, black, high ponytail.
"How many people are in right now?" I ask as politely as possible.
"Um..." She begins, not even looking up from her book, "about 30, I'd say."
Magnificent! 30 people spread across wide halls and at least 100 different stations, so I needn't bother about anyone trying suss out my weaknesses (because they're easily exploited.) After a thorough stretch of my muscles, I head toward the weight stations.
Weights have become a daily routine to me, due to my thin nature and not much upper body strength. I start with curls, going through my basic 10 reps at a time of 6kg. Next is to the bench press, once again 10 reps, but this time at 25kg.
My mind wanders as I bring the bar down to my chest and extend my arms back out; 'Hmm, what should I do with the rest of my day? I might spar with a punchbag next, branch out.'
My mind returns, and I focus on getting all the strength that I can.
As they all wake earlier than me during the week, my family chose to sleep in late on a weekend, often leaving me to do as a please. After dining on a breakfast of fine oats, a banana and a glass of orange squash (the perfect fuel for a hard career training session), I donned some dark training clothes and a woolen hat to keep the wind from nipping at my ears.
As always, I jogged to the training gymnasium. A daily 2 miles can work wonders for your fitness, so much so that it barely tests me any more, even on the coldest of mornings. Without knowing the exact time, it was simple to deduce that the day was still young. Not many people wandered the streets, and the only ones moving about outside of their houses were those doing early morning washing and hanging the clothes out to dry.
I pull open the stretched, black doors with the Panem seal on them to enter the training gym, and upon entering, my expression turned into that of delight! Only one person stood behind the registration desk, meaning that the gym musn't be that full yet. I notice the apparent beauty of the woman behind the desk, her face buried in a book about munition and her hair pulled back into a sleek, black, high ponytail.
"How many people are in right now?" I ask as politely as possible.
"Um..." She begins, not even looking up from her book, "about 30, I'd say."
Magnificent! 30 people spread across wide halls and at least 100 different stations, so I needn't bother about anyone trying suss out my weaknesses (because they're easily exploited.) After a thorough stretch of my muscles, I head toward the weight stations.
Weights have become a daily routine to me, due to my thin nature and not much upper body strength. I start with curls, going through my basic 10 reps at a time of 6kg. Next is to the bench press, once again 10 reps, but this time at 25kg.
My mind wanders as I bring the bar down to my chest and extend my arms back out; 'Hmm, what should I do with the rest of my day? I might spar with a punchbag next, branch out.'
My mind returns, and I focus on getting all the strength that I can.
