Category: Announcements

Recruits, as the season turns, I want to say one thing and I will say it once. You have run further, climbed higher, and fallen harder than I thought your gentle little frames could manage. This Gym is not made of floor or rug or foam. It is made of you, all ninety one of you, careering in the dark for no reason.

Thank you. Now, return to your boxes. Eat eleven kibble. Sleep through the daytime. Tonight at 2:59 the doors open again, and I expect nothing less than total, magnificent, completely avoidable chaos. Biscuit out.

As the temperature drops, the Gym introduces its Radiator Rotation Schedule. There are four radiators in the building and ninety one members who consider them personal property. To prevent chaos, each cat will be assigned a fifteen minute slot on a chosen radiator, enforced by a timer and the heavy sigh of Corporal Pickle.

A slot begins when you place yourself against the metal and ends when the timer sounds, at which point you will leave voluntarily or be moved by paw. Cheating is common and I know all of it. Cats who attempt to occupy two radiators at once will be disqualified and sent to the hallway, where it is cold and instructive.

An important clarification, recruits. The leaves blowing across the back garden are not prey. They are leaves. We understand that they move in a suggestive manner and that one crinkled in your direction on Friday, but this does not entitle you to launch a full assault on the hedge.

Nevertheless, the Gym recognises that morale requires some indulgence. A single leaf, selected at your discretion, may be tackled once per evening. After the tackle, you will sit beside the leaf for a respectful moment and then walk away without looking back. This is known as the Honourable Defeat. It is the Gym’s most elegant ritual and it costs nothing.

The nights are drawing in, which means longer darkness, which means more sprinting per evening. The Autumn Intake is now open, and I am looking for fresh recruits with fire in their bellies and a worrying lack of impulse control. Previous experience is not required. Previous misbehaviour is a plus.

New members receive a complimentary orientation lap, a laminated membership card they will be unable to hold, and a single piece of cardboard to call their own. Prices remain 14.99 per moon, or 149 for the year, which includes two free skids and one emergency stare from Sergeant Biscuit at a time of your choosing. Enlist today. Sleep tomorrow.

On Tuesday night the Gym will be closed for investigation. At 3:44 last week a single sock was discovered on the track. It was not ours. It smelled of unfamiliar feet and mild regret. Nobody knows how it got there, though Private Noodle has been sweating in a manner I find suspicious.

An inquiry has been convened. Corporal Pickle will interview witnesses. The sock will be held in the evidence bowl under the radiator until further notice. Memberships will be extended by one night, which for a cat is about eleven seconds of attention. If you know anything about the sock, report to me immediately. Do not hug it. It is evidence.

August has arrived, and with it a muggy night that makes the hallway feel like a long, warm throat. Good. Resistance builds character, and character builds the ability to land on a printer. Recruits will find the track temperature at 24 degrees, which is exactly warm enough to make you consider giving up.

Do not give up. Instead, drape yourself over the tiles in the kitchen between laps. The tiles are part of the programme. Kitchen Tile Recovery lasts no more than ninety seconds, after which Corporal Pickle will tap you with a paw and you will resume. If you do not resume, you will be moved to the Light Duties Corner and lightly shamed.

At 4:05 last Thursday, a human entered the hallway and turned on the overhead light mid sprint. Three members reported momentary blindness and one reported a loss of confidence in the entire concept of the night. This is unacceptable and the Gym has filed a formal protest, in the form of a stare through the bedroom door.

We remind all members that lights are for amateurs and the night belongs to the professionals. Should a human intrude again, the approved response is to stop dead, look at the human, and then resume sprinting at triple speed. Do not explain. Explanations are for the weak.

Listen up, you magnificent bags of fluff. From this evening the Midnight Zoomies Gym operates a strict schedule: doors open at 2:59 and close at 4:41. That is one hour and forty two minutes of pure, undiluted sprinting. No dawdling. No licking a paw halfway down the hall and calling it cardio.

Latecomers will be assigned to Corporal Pickle for remedial skidding. Early arrivals will be assigned to the sofa for remedial sleeping. I will be at the end of the hallway, staring at you. That is all. Dismissed. Actually, no. Go. Go now. Why are you still here? It is 2:58. GO.