8th of Summer, 320 AC
If there weren't any jobs that needed to be done that day, Bo liked to spend his mornings doing something that got him moving. Usually, that meant lifting. After all, that was what he was good at. Shawm had some pretty heavy fishing gear on the boat, so when Bo wanted to do some training while Shawm was asleep or away, he would grab one of those items, like a large buoy, take it to the pier and start working with it. That sort of thing really jump-started his days and gave him some quick energy to either look for jobs or to visit his family.
This morning, however, Bo couldn't find the usual items he would borrow, like a group of buoys or some of his extra fenders in order to exercise with. He didn't know what Shawm had done with them, but they weren't in any obvious place. Instead of rummaging through Shawm's things to find them, Bo grabbed some of the empty jugs Shawm had collected for reasons unknown and filled them with seawater as he decided they would be a good alternative.
Bo dried off the jugs with some spare towels Shawm had in his makeshift kitchen and went onto the pier to start his routine. He had a couple of exercises that he liked to do and he always did them in order. In fact, Bo was so used to his routine that he also knew how many reps, give or take two or three until he would start to feel the tangible burn and approximately how many he could do before needing to stop. With the usual equipment, which was quite heavy when you put them all together in a bunch, he could get in around 20 reps of arm curls. These jugs, however, filled with water, weighed significantly less than what he was used to. Not only was this noticeable upon the relative ease Bo could lift the jugs, but also in that once Bo had gotten to his usual 20 reps, his arms didn't really feel tired or burned at all.
He looked at the jugs, considering if he should try and find something heavier inside. But he already filled them and dried them and his hands were cold now from when he stuck them into the sea to fill the jugs, so it all felt pointless if he didn't at least try to use them. He supposed he could just do another set until he did feel tired. He shrugged and continued on as normal. Just like whenever he lifted things while at work, Bo breathed in deeply through his nose when lowered the jugs and then exhaled through his mouth when lifting them. That was what Bo remembered his dad had taught him when he was younger when he tried to help him carry a large bag of grain back to the longhouse, panting exasperatedly from the weight. It helped stop his throat from burning which Bo always hated the sensation of. There was a good kind of burn, like when he was lifting or working out, then there were bad burns, like from fires or from not breathing properly. He didn't like either of those types of bad burns. Hence why they were called bad.
While Bo remembered his early work-study as a child, he noticed that after just a few extra reps with the jugs he started to feel the usual burning sensation in his arms like usual. 10 extra reps in and Bo could really feel it, and once he hit 20 Bo lowered the jugs and looked at his arms which sizzled in a familiar, yet somehow unfamiliar way. Only an extra 20? How much did these jugs weigh, like 7 pounds? 8 pounds tops? The stuff he was used to lifting was like, 15 to 16 pounds. That was uh- 15 minus 7 so— 1, 2, 3, 4... that was like 3 or 4 times lighter than he was used to! Shouldn't that mean he could do 3 or 4 times as many curl-ups? Why could he only do one extra rep?
While Bo thought, Shawm woke up and noticed him using the jugs outside and started to yell at him about using his things. "Get some longevity in those muscles of yours. And stop picking up my things!"
Bo set the jugs down and looked at the pier below him and the ocean to his sides. Longevity. Maybe that's why he couldn't do as many reps as he thought. That may also be why he wasn't able to hold onto the inboard boom guy on the Theurgiony as long as he had liked. He had strength but he didn't have longevity. That actually wasn't a bad idea. If he had more endurance, he would have been able to hold on without dropping the cargo. He also imagined himself being able to carry heavier loads for longer when shipping materials to stores and such. Maybe he should go running instead today.
Yeah, running, that sounds good. That sounds great.
Boga nodded to Shawm with a smile of thanks. He emptied the jugs out back into the ocean before returning them to the pile Shawm had created and grabbed his boots to slip on. He left his shirt in his room since he had a feeling it would only turn into a sponge, but he kept his suspenders attatched to his pants. Before he wanted to put on the goggles, Bo tied up his hair into a thick braid and put his beard into a pony so it all wouldn't go flying around in his face while he ran. Then, once that was done, he put on his goggles and headed out onto the street.
