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    Tim looked at his watch, took a firm grip on Greg’s ankles and waited a few seconds, “Get set…. And… go!”
    Once again counting out laud the number of repetitions, Tim could definitely feel sympathy for his team mate.
    This was the part of the test where he himself always scored the lowest. Not that he’d had any trouble in passing so far, but this was the part he hated the most. The cramp like state of the upper abs that started to appear at the end of the two minutes was really, truly a pain in the…

    He called out at the time at different intervals and then a “Halt” after two full minutes.
    Out of curiosity, Tim shifted and grabbed Greg’s wrist to check the pulse as soon as he’d released the ankles, “220 minus 35 is 185…” counted the heart rate quietly during a 6 second period and multiplied it by 10.
    “170, maybe 180.” Tim chuckled as he released his grip of the wrist and sat back on his heels to wait for Greg to catch his breath. “No wonder you’re out of breath…”





    ((OOC: Ones maximum heart rate is calculated by 220 – your age, Tim’s just checking how close to that Greg came. So, how many sit-ups was it? ))

    "Absence of Evidence is not Evidence of Absence"

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      <<Basketball Court>>

      On the go, Greg went for it. The first rep was the hardest, the rest were bouncy momentum and using no muscle on the way down.

      Greg shifted his body slightly at about 20, trying to avoid using his thighs. The last seconds he just managed to drop to the mat for 42.

      He unlaced his hands, straightening his arm out, not moving the one Tim had taken. 'And the medic makes sure I'm not about to have a heart attack.'

      Greg sat up, grabbing onto his knees. It was rare, almost a decade later, for his wounds to bother him. Greg pressed his hand into his stomach, the sharp pain reminding him of exactly where his flak vest could have been longer. As he got his breathing more normal and less gasping, "Where's the run course around here? Please tell me it's not a quarter-mile I'll have to go around eight time."


      Last edited by DragonGate; 17 August 2009, 09:40 AM.
      "Che idiota fa una cosa del genere! Gli americani non pensare cose del genere?!"
      " 'Idiot' and 'American' I think were cognates? I'm going to assume you're not talking about me so we can work together better."
      Ambassador Isabelle Cooper-Oxford and Lt. Col. Stephen "Steve" Hamrick ~ "Discoveries"

      Discover a … New Galaxy

      Look for a … New Adventure

      Find a … New Mythology

      Comment


        < Basketball court >

        Tim smiled and straightened up, “No, no fancy run track around these parts, not even a short one” and gave his zat a pat. “That’s part of the reason of why we have to carry these little friends with us. The course runs about 3 kilometers along the side of the mountain, outside the base perimeter and wild life here can be…”
        He thought of the injuries Ryn had received two days ago, “…pretty wild.”

        He offered a hand to help Greg up and then started to roll up the pad to place it in the box again.
        “So how much time do you want before the run? You could take a pretty long break if you’d like, there’s no rush and I think I can find something to do with this little friend in the mean time.” He picked up the basket ball and bounced it as he walked back towards the box with the pad.
        Opening the lid he looked back at Greg, “Your choice…”



        "Absence of Evidence is not Evidence of Absence"

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          <<Basketball Court>>

          "Give me about fifteen minutes, I'll be good." Greg walked around the court to loosen his legs from the sit-ups. Whether he liked it or not, he'd have to fully disclose his old injuries to Tim. The medic had a right to know. After the run. He could do a two-mile run. "You very good with that? The basketball, I mean."


          "Che idiota fa una cosa del genere! Gli americani non pensare cose del genere?!"
          " 'Idiot' and 'American' I think were cognates? I'm going to assume you're not talking about me so we can work together better."
          Ambassador Isabelle Cooper-Oxford and Lt. Col. Stephen "Steve" Hamrick ~ "Discoveries"

          Discover a … New Galaxy

          Look for a … New Adventure

          Find a … New Mythology

          Comment


            < Basket ball court >

            Closing the lid of the box, Tim gave Greg an amused grin, “Define ‘very’…” and started to bounce the ball, changing between his hands as he walked towards one of the hoops.
            “I’ve never been good enough to make a living out of it,” he made a relaxed throw from the 3 point line and the ball dropped like a nice little friend in to the hoop, “I never got a scholarship or anything…”
            He quickened up his pace to a jog and grabbed the rebound, “…unlike some of my friends eventually did in the NBA.”
            Tim made a run towards the middle, stopped for a second, turned and then dribbled towards the hoop and made another shot, scoring once again and looked back at Greg, “But yes, I played a lot during college although I saw it mostly as a way to relax and get away from the books; an opportunity to do something completely different a few nights a week, you know.”

            He made some more rounds towards the opposite ends of the court to get his system warmed up before the run, making a shot every now and then and as the minutes passed, he picked up more speed in his turns, focusing completely on controlling the ball and then, finally stopping in front of Greg, panting slightly.
            “So… Are you ready … for the run now?... I know I am…”
            Tim put the ball in the box and pointed towards the hangar bay, “The track starts over there. Do you want me to set the pace?”



            "Absence of Evidence is not Evidence of Absence"

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              <<Basketball Court>>

              "I'll pace off of you, I think we're in the same PT bracket." Greg was shamelessly mentally crossing his fingers that Tim wasn't ridiculously younger, though the engineer was pretty sure he was somewhat younger.

              He started actually thinking about that. Himself, Travis, and Tim, 'Am I the oldest one on this team?' "Lead the way."


              "Che idiota fa una cosa del genere! Gli americani non pensare cose del genere?!"
              " 'Idiot' and 'American' I think were cognates? I'm going to assume you're not talking about me so we can work together better."
              Ambassador Isabelle Cooper-Oxford and Lt. Col. Stephen "Steve" Hamrick ~ "Discoveries"

              Discover a … New Galaxy

              Look for a … New Adventure

              Find a … New Mythology

              Comment


                Tim looked at Greg, giving him a head shake, “Nope, not the same. If I should do it by the Army standard instead of the Rangers, I’d have to do it in 17 minutes,” and then added with a teasing grin, “I’m only 29 you know…” and took off towards the opposite side of the hangar bay doors in a slow jog.

                He stopped at the starting point to wait for Greg and looked at his watch, “8.51 to the 1 mile mark, piece of cake… You ready doc?”



                "Absence of Evidence is not Evidence of Absence"

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                  <<Running Path>>

                  Greg trotted to the starting point with Tim. 'Twenty-nine? He's just a kid! Talk to me when you can see forty over the hill. Please tell me Travis is a little older than that.'

                  The older man stretched out his legs, bouncing around as he eyed the course for the shortest section of two miles. "Ready, Sarge."

                  While waiting for a go, Greg was still thinking. 'Wonder how old Travis is?'


                  "Che idiota fa una cosa del genere! Gli americani non pensare cose del genere?!"
                  " 'Idiot' and 'American' I think were cognates? I'm going to assume you're not talking about me so we can work together better."
                  Ambassador Isabelle Cooper-Oxford and Lt. Col. Stephen "Steve" Hamrick ~ "Discoveries"

                  Discover a … New Galaxy

                  Look for a … New Adventure

                  Find a … New Mythology

                  Comment


                    "Get set and... Go!" Tim started his watch as they took off along the track.
                    The face Greg had made when he became aware of Tim's age had been... interesting...
                    Tim smiled as he let his body move in to its well known pace of running. He grinned and shook his head, the age difference wasn't that big , and if Greg wouldn't have mentioned it, or reacted like he did, he knew he wouldn't have cared at all.

                    Keeping one eye on the time and another one at the tree line for any stray animals, made conversation rather impossible, and come to think about it, judging by the way Greg focused on moving forward; the doc would probably not appreciate the effort of small talking
                    He shot a look at Greg as they passed the one mile marking and turned back towards the hangar bay, "How's it going doc...? Keep it up like this... and you'll make it... just in time..."
                    Tim was just about to add "...old man..." just to tease him but thought better. There would be other times when a joke was more appropriate, but knowing a soft spot like that might become very useful later on.


                    Last edited by Northern Girl; 24 August 2009, 11:42 AM.

                    "Absence of Evidence is not Evidence of Absence"

                    Comment


                      <<Running Path>>

                      Greg heaved and struggled along a few strides behind Tim. At the one-mile mark, if he'd had the breath left he probably would have said something extremely unkind. 'Would you shut up and stop encouraging me? You can still talk, you are obviously not running hard. I hate running, I hate running.'

                      He focused ahead of him, watching for the encouragement of the endpoint to throw out one last sprint that would guarantee knee pain for the rest of the day.




                      ((Don't worry, the bad feelings only last as long as the run. I know from experience, somebody else who can still talk is not encouraging when you're gasping. Doesn't stop people from trying to "encourage" you, anyway.))
                      "Che idiota fa una cosa del genere! Gli americani non pensare cose del genere?!"
                      " 'Idiot' and 'American' I think were cognates? I'm going to assume you're not talking about me so we can work together better."
                      Ambassador Isabelle Cooper-Oxford and Lt. Col. Stephen "Steve" Hamrick ~ "Discoveries"

                      Discover a … New Galaxy

                      Look for a … New Adventure

                      Find a … New Mythology

                      Comment


                        Tim shot a look at Greg when he didn’t respond, 'Man, he’s really struggling! Got to give him credit for not quitting just like that though. Even if he doesn’t make it within the time limit, I’ve got the answers I wanted. He might not make it today, but he’s good enough for me… With some more PT he’ll do more than fine…'
                        He’s gaze suddenly fell towards Greg’s leg, was he limping!?

                        Just for the heck of it, Tim picked up the pace the last 500 meters; if Greg was doing the best he could, giving this test every ounce of energy he could, then at least Tim thought he could do the same and push as much as he could as well during this last moment.
                        It had nothing to with showing off, it was more like wanting to really get himself a good run, getting tired and enjoy the feeling of the endorphins once the run was over.

                        He slowed down to a walk as he passed their ‘finish line’, shot a glance at first the watch and then the doc, before shouting, “Come on Doc!”
                        Yep, definitely out of breath; Tim continued to focus on his breathing with his eyes at the doc as he walked alongside the finish line, “20… seconds… before time’s… up…”



                        "Absence of Evidence is not Evidence of Absence"

                        Comment


                          <<Running Path>>

                          Greg could see the finish line, Tim had sped up to complete that last stretch. Knowing his body was going to hate it, Greg forced himself to sprint the last of the test as Tim called out the last twenty seconds to come under time.

                          It was 18:00 exactly when Greg crossed the finish line, gasping and favoring his left leg while trying to not show that it hurt. Walking around with his arms up and hands behind his head, Greg managed to ask, "What do ya think?"


                          "Che idiota fa una cosa del genere! Gli americani non pensare cose del genere?!"
                          " 'Idiot' and 'American' I think were cognates? I'm going to assume you're not talking about me so we can work together better."
                          Ambassador Isabelle Cooper-Oxford and Lt. Col. Stephen "Steve" Hamrick ~ "Discoveries"

                          Discover a … New Galaxy

                          Look for a … New Adventure

                          Find a … New Mythology

                          Comment


                            Tim continued to walk as he spoke, trying to get his breathing under control, “You did better than I expected, 18.00 actually. Definitely better then I think most of the other scientists around here would do.”
                            He took a few breaths before continuing, “So what’s the story about your leg?” Tim saw how he fought to keep up the facade, it had to be an older injury or he wouldn’t have been on the “waiting list” for a team spot, then again; he shot a worried glance at first Greg’s leg, then his face “You didn’t hurt it while you were running now, did you?”



                            "Absence of Evidence is not Evidence of Absence"

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                              Greg sighed. He thought he'd been better than that at hiding it, but Tim was a medic, trained to see through BS and faking. "No, just an old injury. I'll be fine in a few hours, just stretch it out and loosen it up a little. The nice folks in Kosovo were apparently aiming for my sergeant's stripes and got me in the knee and in the gut just under my flak vest."

                              Still walking around while trying to figure the way back, he shrugged. "When you pound first aid training into your troop's heads, you never quite think they'll be using it on you, do you?" It was more or less a rhetorical question. "Range next?"


                              "Che idiota fa una cosa del genere! Gli americani non pensare cose del genere?!"
                              " 'Idiot' and 'American' I think were cognates? I'm going to assume you're not talking about me so we can work together better."
                              Ambassador Isabelle Cooper-Oxford and Lt. Col. Stephen "Steve" Hamrick ~ "Discoveries"

                              Discover a … New Galaxy

                              Look for a … New Adventure

                              Find a … New Mythology

                              Comment


                                << Running track towards the shooting range >>

                                Tim grimaced at Greg’s description, abdominal wounds had a tendency to be… messy, to say the least. Not knowing more about the specific injury, but judging from what he said, he could be glad he was still among the living.
                                The knee; Tim frowned, a peek in his, , heck in all the team members medical files sounded better by the minute.
                                “Aouch, not very friendly types, uh? Shooting back, and hitting…”

                                He pointed passed the Hangar bay doors, “Yeah, it’s over there,” before shrugging at the question. Liking it or not, he had to think about that possibility when teaching. That one day a fellow team member or anyone else for that matter had to take care of him

                                “Let’s just get this over with; I’m starting to get a bit hungry.”
                                The real reason was something else though, he was a very mediocre shooter, even when having the advantage of a nicely behaving P-, he corrected himself, Z-90.

                                He entered the Hangar bay, got his bag from the SF and grabbed two canteens of water on his way out, “Here, catch!” he tossed one towards Greg, “Not exactly as hot as Shanstid around here, but I thought you might needed one…” then unscrewed the cork and drank as they walked towards the range.



                                "Absence of Evidence is not Evidence of Absence"

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