Jack had always maintained his body. At first, it was because he had to pass PT tests and had enough of a competitive streak that he didn't want to just barely pass. He'd realized fairly quickly that he liked it, though, or at least some parts of it. He'd never enjoyed running and was pretty sure that those people who swore that they got endorphins from running were absolutely fucking making things up. Obviously endorphins were a real thing, but nothing about running was fun even when he had two feet.

When he'd been deployed, there usually hadn't been much else to do in his off hours besides sleep, eat, and work out, so he'd done those three things. He'd built his body into something that was useful for his job and his life, since it wasn't a bad thing to look damn good naked. His wife had certainly seemed appreciative of it, anyway, when he'd been back for R&R.   It had also turned out to be useful during rehab and after, since he had to use his upper body to haul around his lower body.     Now, thirty years on from enlisting and twenty from his amputation, he could and did smoke the young muscleheads who saw the grey hair and prosthetic and assumed he was no match for them.  It was fun.

He'd had a shift last night, so after some sleep and some food, he'd gone over to the gym for an hour or so.  He'd felt like working his upper body today, so now all those muscles were pleasantly tired and his hair was still damp and curly from his post-workout shower.   He stepped out of the gym with his workout duffel slung over his shoulder, then glanced at his watch.  He had a few hours before he was back on shift, so he could grab some coffee and a meal.  Food first, of course, since he'd just used up a whole lot of energy.  

[[Find Jack at the gym of your choice in a t-shirt and shorts (below knee right leg prosthetic visible) or leaving the gym in workout pants (prosthetic not visible). Great time to meet him.]]