Morning Ring Work

I strung a thick rubber band across two heavy ceramic mugs on the table, locking down my own set of ring ropes. Grabbing the taut band with both gloved hands, I leaned all my weight backward to test the snap. The white mug slid an inch—a sharp clatter against the oak—then locked dead firm. Perfect tension. I kicked off the tabletop, absorbed the sudden rebound, and drove straight into a sharp set of high-knee strides. The arena might be quiet, but the champion never skips the morning grind.