Morning routine

Our previous first sergeant liked the gym, and set up us on a pretty good schedule.  Whenever we're not doing something useful, we all head over at 0800 and do gymish things for about an hour.

I hate PT, and all things gym-related, but I really couldn't start out the Abby Regime by announcing that henceforth we'd start work at 0700 in order to be at the bar by 1430.  Wouldn't be seemly.  So I stuck with the previous schedule.

I didn't mind the gym when it was cold.  And when the weather's nice, I just stick my head in, count my wayward sheep, and head outside for a long, slow job (and occasionally a nap under a tree).

But in case y'all didn't notice, it's hotter than the seventh hub of Hell here right now.  Yesterday I ran a little over three miles and seriously thought about flopping over and dying.  So today I had 40 quality minutes on the treadmill.

Treadmills are, for the record, really designed for people with better balance and coordination than your author.  Injuries narrowly avoided by timely use of the handrails?  Two.