Climb up the pipe, traverse the monkey bars, swing through the ropes, walk a tightrope and clear a fifteen metre gap. It all sounded feasible in Adrian's head, hell he knew it was possible - he had seen his father do it. And yet somehow his body refused to cooperate. The jumps he'd seen his father execute flawlessly ended with Adrian face planting in the mud when he attempted them.

With a wet slap that was becoming sickeningly familiar Adrian fell onto the mud and stayed there. His eyes tracked his progress, made easy by the mud tracks he'd left on them. It was pitiful. He'd managed the pipe climb and the first bar. With burning limbs weighed down by his hardening armour of mud yet spurred on by a fiery resolve, Adrian dragged himself free of the sucking mud and made to attempt the course again. The opening of the front door saved him from another dip in the mud.

‘Oh thank God.' Adrian thought silently.

Almost immediately he felt anger at himself for feeling relief and resolved to tackle the course again when the smells of the platter his father carried wafted over to him. The course could wait. With renewed vigor Adrian beelined towards his father and the food only to be directed by his fathers pointing finger to the bathhouse. Minutes of furious scrubbing of what felt like pounds of mud off his person and out of places mud had no right being, Adrian found himself seated in his shorts and shoveling down divine tasting food.

He'd once tasted salt in his food when he was way younger but with time that memory had vanished. Now biting into a heaping serving of bean stew peppered with smoked salty chicken, Adrian wondered how he had ever forgotten. The meal ended with the usual tea and on Adrian's first sip he nearly spat it out of surprise. Sugar. He looked up to see his father flashing a dazzling bright smile. Adrian opened his mouth to ask how his old man had gotten it all when he thought better of it. His father knowing him well nodded at his son's restraint and the matter was forgotten.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“So Adrian how goes the training?” Jacob asked.

Groaning, Adrian directed his meanest stink eye out the window and at the the monstrosity called the course. With a sip of sweetened tea Adrian ground out, “I see the steps, I saw you take them. But when I try it my body refuses to move the way I want it to. Everyday I can jump a bit farther but it's never enough.”

With his piece set Adrian upended the cup to avoid looking at his dad's face and the look of disappointment he hoped wasn't there. Adrian had never seen it directed at him and he hoped he never had to. His father cleared his throat and Adrian peeked over the lip of his battered cup to gauge his dad's reaction. His old man looked thoughtful and not at all disappointed.

“Why do you think that is son?”

The question threw Adrian for a loop, usually he had problems, he told his father and they were fixed. The only time that had ever failed was the headache that had nearly killed him. And now his father had thrown a problem right back into his lap and expected an answer. Adrian's father looked at him with an open and earnest face with belief shining through his eyes that his son could find the answer, that more than anything made Adrian sit back and really think.

‘Why can't I do what dad does?' Adrian thought to himself. He'd seen his father move and he'd attempted to copy it, it hadn't gone well. The most obvious answer was right before him but he refused to take it. It felt child-like to say because his father was older, it was true yes but the course had been designed for him to complete. Unbidden a thought came to Adrian about the first thing his old man had asked him to do. To run around the course to build stamina.

Adrian looked at his noodle thin arms and wondered again where all the food he was eating was going and then looked at his fathers arms with their rippling muscles barely restrained by his shirt. The answer came in a flash. He'd seen his father do them from time to time. Push ups and the like and lifting heavy things over his head. His father had called it...

“Conditioning.”

Adrian didn't realise he'd spoken till he looked up and saw his fathers beaming pride filled face. A similar smile lit up on Adrian's face.

“Uh so dad where do you keep your weights?”

His father leaned his head back and roared a laughter filled with pride.