Category: Nutrition

I used to scoff at recovery days. Then Corporal Pickle explained that without them, a cat becomes brittle, like an overtoasted crumpet. After sixty hours of research, he has produced the Gym’s official loafing guidance, which is as follows: paws tucked, eyes half closed, tail wrapped neatly, and no more than one reproachful glance per fifteen minutes.

The best loaf is a lazy loaf. The second best loaf is a loaf that has just chased a toy mouse. Both are welcome. Do not feel guilty. Feel structured. And if a human tries to pet you in the middle of a loaf, you may accept it for exactly twelve seconds before moving to the next cushion.

Water. You will drink it. I do not care that the bowl is beside the dishwasher and that a different, more glamorous water drips from the tap. The tap is for show. The bowl is for results.

Private Noodle, who last week completed 31 laps and then collapsed into a sink, has asked me to remind you that the sink is not a hydration station. It is a disaster waiting politely. If you must drink from the tap, do it with discipline: two laps, two sips, one furious look at the faucet for dripping at you.

Hydration standards are posted on the fridge door. Read them. Or at least sit on them.

I have heard rumours that recruits are eating a full bowl before the 2:59 bell. This ends today. A full stomach is a ballast, and a ballast does not leap onto a bookshelf. The Gym recommends exactly eleven kibble, chewed with intent, followed by a small sip of water you pretend to be annoyed about.

Corporal Pickle will weigh the kibble personally on the brass scale at the front desk. If you are carrying a second dinner, you will be redirected to the Light Duties Corner, where the sunlit rug and a ceiling fan await your regret. Fuel is a tool. Do not make it a hobby.