Askin' for it...
(OOC: just a nonsense thread... I feel like letting folks have a shot at whatever they want to bother Foster with... something new though if possible... or very old... distract me.)::enters gym for daily hour-long workout, keepin' in shape being important, has always been... sees soon-to-re-be- Bossman Reed in here every day, has decided to
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I hope I'm doing this right or Jaspreet will kick my ass...
*peers up at Foster*
Heya, boss.
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::holds stride, glances around::
...wtf...?
::catches movement, lower, from corner of eye, raises eyebrows::
Secorro.
::stares a moment, then frowns::
S'at... somethin' you should be doing in public...?
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To be honest, I'm not sure it's something I should be doing at all.
*shifts a little, feels something... pinch? crack? not good either way*
Ow.
*unravels self from the 'position' and sits cross-legged, rubbing shoulder*
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Better make sure yer in shape before you start pushing yerself out of it.
...
Ha... ::laughs at own joke, well well... not too shabby, Simon::
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*sighs, rolling head from side to side to stretch neck*
Well, in my defence, Jaspreet -- er, Crewman Dhaliwal, my roommate -- usually helps me with my Yoga. She's got about 15 years of training. But I thought I would give it a try on my own for once.
Bad idea, I guess.
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If the human body was meant to bend like that... or if we were supposed to have our legs above our heads for hours at a shot, we'da been born with... our... legs above our heads.
Yep.
::breathing harder, is getting a good workout::
You oughta take up jogging. Or... sparring. Yeah, sparring. Calms ya down, works ya up...
::shrugs::
Happy to offer up a partner. I used to assist the Captain.
::winces a moment, remembering that damned black eye incident...::
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*ignores his dig at Yoga, knowing he wouldn't understand the spiritual aspect of it anyway*
*stands up, still rubbing the shoulder, might have to see Phlox about this one*
*resists the urge to tell Simon that jogging has been a part of own regular routine since age 15, or to tell him about the weekly floor-hockey matches with Worthington, always best to just 'take' Foster's advice and leave it at that*
Sparring, eh? That sounds, uh, interesing.
"Calms ya down, works ya up..."??? What kind of sparring do you do? Kickboxing? Martial Arts?
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Man's sport. Nothin' fancy needed.
::nods::
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I see.
Nothing fancy, huh? Well. Sounds like fun. Maybe when you're done there... *trails off with a shrug*
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::frowns::
Well, now... you done sparring before? 'Sounds like fun'... isn't exactly a promising response.
::grins as jogs::
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*smiles a little* I've got some experience, yeah.
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::shrugs::
Okay. Your neck.
::points across the gym::
Gloves are over there in the lockers. I'll be off of here in two more minutes... want to hit my optimum heart rate for a warm up.
::sets the machine up to the last level, pounds the runner::
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...
*heads over and picks the perfect pair, sturdier around the wrists but more cushioned on the knuckles than the others, doesn't really want to hurt him*
*gets out tensor bandages and begins to wrap hands as Foster finishes his lolly-gagging run*
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::treadmill shudders down, slows the jog all the way, breathing nice and deep, just breaking a sweat... good stopping place::
::grabs towel, wiping face and hauling it over shoulders, heads across the cavernous room to Secorro, keeping an eye on what she's doing::
Wrappin'? Gonna be hard on me, crewman? ::smirks to self, digging around for favorite pair of gloves::
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Naw, I doubt it. I just don't want to hurt my wrists. Phlox would be pissed.
*smiles sweetly*
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Sure thing. Smilin' now, not for long, missy.
::holds up hands::
I'll pass though.
::keeps digging, can't seem to find the ones he wants... usually right there::
...
::tosses a glance over at Secorro::
Huh. You got my gloves.
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