8th of Ashan, 717
OOC Notes
I made a list of knowledge to keep me on track while writing, but if it helps reviewers find things (I know grading strength threads can be blah), I've included it. :) I apologize in advance for how grindy this is. :(
Strength: How to Properly Lift Weights
Strength: Dig Your Heels Into The Floor When Lifting
Strength: Start With Heavier Reps
Strength: Don't Be Afraid to Stretch
Strength: Use Lifting Chalk
Strength: Jumping Rope is Ideal for Cardio Training
Acrobatics: Butterfly Stretch
Acrobatics: Know Your Limits
Acrobatics: Always Warm Up Your Muscles First
Acrobatics: Balance Requires Adaptation
Acrobatics: Handstand
Acrobatics: Figure 4 Rotation Stretch
Strength: How to Properly Lift Weights
Strength: Dig Your Heels Into The Floor When Lifting
Strength: Start With Heavier Reps
Strength: Don't Be Afraid to Stretch
Strength: Use Lifting Chalk
Strength: Jumping Rope is Ideal for Cardio Training
Acrobatics: Butterfly Stretch
Acrobatics: Know Your Limits
Acrobatics: Always Warm Up Your Muscles First
Acrobatics: Balance Requires Adaptation
Acrobatics: Handstand
Acrobatics: Figure 4 Rotation Stretch
The Commander circled the group of guards, critiquing their form and mostly demanding excellence. Andras had begun with a warm up, running in place and regulating his breathing. He then alternated to jumping jacks, hands rising and falling, each leap making his legs spread and close. His heart thumped, his side aching, and he powered through the discomfort. He was beginning to slow down when his trainer gave a sharp whistle to get his attention, “Warming up, Venora? Here.”
The man tossed him a rope, nodding at it, “It'll get your heart pounding; awaken your muscles. You want to get stronger? Don't neglect that. It's perfect cardio training.”
A rope? Andras looked at it, but didn't argue. He slowed down, picking the jumping rope and exhaled long, quick breaths. Another member of the guard was in the corner of the facility, bare chested and the rope he was using was a blur, his arms pumping and the steady thump of his shoes bouncing off the floor in unison was intimidating. Andráska could see his back muscles, and thick arms. 'Can it really do all that?'
Positioning himself, he began to jump the rope, his arms lifting and he could feel the way his body reacted; how his thighs and calves began to burn and suddenly his endurance seemed minimal. His heart was beating like crazy, and his lungs were begging for a break. Even his shoulders and arms were starting to tire after some time and realized his coach had been right. Jumping rope was a great work out, almost in itself. He stumbled, almost tripping over it after missing a beat and let it drop to the ground, placing his hands on his hips and resisting the urge to spit. Sweat began to build beneath his shirt and he struggled to pull it off, his coach circling back around the room.
“Very good, Venora. Harder than it looks, isn't it?” The man smiled, “You're warmed up enough to do some stretches. Do you need a demonstration?”
“Yeah,” Andras huffed. He wasn't a very flexible person. Perhaps it was time to change that.
The men sunk to the ground, the instructor quick to teach Andras, and the noble eager to learn. He laid upon his back, practicing a stretch he understood to be called the Figure 4 Rotation Stretch. His instructor showed him how it was performed. He was to lay down, arms away from him with his palms skyward. Then he brought up his right leg, placing his ankle upon his left knee and then rotated his hips, feeling his pelvis flex as his foot tried to plant itself back upon the floor. It was a strange sensation, feeling parts of him being pulled he didn't realize could be.
Seeing the funny and focused expression he wore, his instructor chuckled. “Now the other.” Andras switched legs, resting a few ticks in between before rotating his other side and counted under his breath. “Make sure you keep your back aligned. Don't let your shoulder blades leave the floor. Yeah, there ya go. Keep your core strong.”
This continued on until they began a new stretch, the instructor illustrating the Butterfly Stetch, and how it would continue to open up his inner legs and straighten his spine. Andras was sitting, legs in front of him when he tried to imitate the coach, pulling his legs back, so that the bottom of his feet were pressed together and his legs rose like the wings of the insect it was named after. He was told to use his elbows to slowly push downwards, trying to get his knees to the floor, and he was quickly aware of the pull in his legs.
Andras knew he needed to be aware of his limits, imagining it very easy to pull a muscle if he overexerted himself. He was... so un-flexible.
“So, Venora, tell me... Why did you want to join the guard?”
His instructor was watching him as he leaned forward, focused on his exercises, “Doesn't everyone?” the noble muttered, trying to keep his breathing even.
The instructor smiled, “Perhaps. You could have been just as comfortable in the Iron Hand, right? Climbing ranks...I'll admit to being surprised that we were getting a new member. You were only a knight. Not even a steward.” The instructor's eyes were kind, not judgmental, but Andráska couldn't help but wonder if the man was secretly bitter. "What changed?”
“An assassination attempt, that's what.” Perhaps Andras had simply been at the right place at the right time when the undercover guard tried to kill the king, and he had been the only one to immediately take action. As much as both Faith and Tristan had done, he was the one who had gone one on one with the guilty party, and it was he who got a blade sunken into his leg.
“Well, at least you're loyal. Most people would be worried about saving their own skin... After everything with your family... I didn't expect a Venora to save the king's life. It was a welcome surprise.”
Andras didn't say anything to this, not wanting to comment on his sister's alliances. Doing so could be dangerous, and if he sounded favorable to her, he could be branded as a sympathizer. Politics were never easy. You always had to watch your next words carefully, and this was the kind of fishing he hoped to avoid.
“Let's switch to weight lifting,” Andras suggested, trying to steer the conversation by heading towards the pile of heavy stone circles and metal bars. He was reaching for one when his instructor came out of nowhere with more advice.
“Don't forget some chalk. It helps you grip the bars better. Prevents an accidental drop if your hands begin to sweat.”
Andras looked to a bag of white powder being offered to him and thought of a few choice drugs that looked the exact same way. He muttered a thanks and dipped his hand in, coating his palm and rubbing his fingers together until his grip was coated. Then he moved to the weights and began testing them to see which ones would be challenging enough, yet allow him to do more than a few lifts.
“Start with heavier reps in your warm ups. Then, after you get a few of those in, go to a more proper weight. It'll help you for your actual work out. Make it feel lighter.”
Andráska realized... that was actually pretty sound logic. He didn't want to go too heavy, though, and opted for something that felt fit into his goal. He loaded the bar up and took his stance. Then he gripped the bar, lowered into position, his instructor guiding him on proper form. He kept his back straight, pushing his abdomen out and allowed himself to strain slightly, using his breath to his advantage as he struggled. One... Two... Three... Four... Five...
The last one was a challenge and he shook out his muscles. Ugh. He just wanted this to get easier. He lightened the load, switching weights and followed through all the form techniques he had been told. Then, with effort, he began to lift and squat, finding that if he dug his heels into the ground made things... easier... In fact, so did starting with a heavier set and switching.
“Wow,” he said softly, counting to his limit to get an idea of where he stood physically. That would be his base number, something he could aim to best in the upcoming training sessions.
Worn out, he was beginning to reach for a rag to wipe away the sweat that had begun to drip down his body when another on of the guards was grinning on a mat, “Oi! Venora! Can you do a handstand?”
A handstand? Andras' brows furrowed, learning what it was by watching. The guard, not much older than him, perhaps in his thirties, had throw his weight forward and was now balancing on his hand, the rest of his body stabilizing in the air. Andras stepped forward, ready to try something new.
He circled the man by the mat, watching him return to his feet and step aside, but when the noble tried it... He ended up sprawled out upon the floor, his balance not adapting fast enough. Everyone had weaknesses, and everyone had strengths.
Andráska Venora was still learning his.
