The reps were done. The weights had been put back on their pre-determined holders and Roran could see his pulse on either bicep. He'd been at it for a good forty-five minutes, working out, relishing as his muscles tore, only to grow back stronger. But his workout wasn't done yet, and what he had left was the most embarrassing part for him.
Jumping rope. It's wasn't a very masculine thing to do, but excellent cardio work. It beat the monotonous treadmill or the Winnie-esque elliptical machines. As the rope began to methodically slap the floor as his feet jumped in the air, Roran had to admit that she was growing on him. If someone could talk to Kian without the tiniest bit of fear? Well, that deserved some respect. He had been ready to get an order to find the journalist and truck him or her back to base. There was no telling when it came to the man, no matter his age. Roran had learned long ago that age had nothing to do with command, and if people let that hinder their responsibilities, the would pay for the consequences of their actions.
Facing one of the mirrored walls, his t-shirt with the sleeves cut out bounced against his abdomen, Roran making sure that he was maintaining good posture and that the speed of his hands was slowly increasing. He wasn't good enough to crisscross. He'd tried it once and ended up with his ankles tangled and banging into a wall. No, no tricky moves for him. Just twenty more minutes and he'd be set for the day.