It would appear that Queen Haven allocated one day a week to exercise and ensure she was in good physical condition, at least based on the schedule I found inside a book. I didn't think this was a problem, though. Nothing wrong with being in shape, after all.
The palace was certainly well equipped in that regard, and the amount of walking we did around the city certainly helped to keep the calories off. She certainly took fitness extremely seriously, as the exercise regime would have been punishing for a younger mare.
The plan started with one of the running machines configured to run for a marathon distance. That's 26 miles, by the way, with the machine set to gallop mode. Using a machine set for going at about 20 miles an hour would keep you in shape.
And, of course, it turned out the palace has its own swimming pool. Which is in the basement, presumably to prevent the fumes from the chlorine entering the rest of the building. They'd slightly overdone it that day, though, as there was quite a fog hanging about in the pool. After diving into it to start laps, I had to stop partway through and phone to the engineers to ask them to turn it down, as I was struggling to breathe with all the gas in the air.
After sixty laps, it was time for the last item on the list- the mountain course. For this a doctor linked all sorts of sensors and monitoring gear to my chest as he finished fitting the VR goggles and sensors.
"This particular route simulates the mountain race path around the edge of Zephyr Heights, Your Majesty," he said, consulting his clipboard. "The course is about 15 miles over rough ground, and is quite tough. One last thing to remember; it's not a sprint. This is about endurance, not speed. I was caution against overexerting yourself, considering your prior exercise earlier today."
I nodded. As the course started, I quickly discovered that I would struggle to get up any sort of speed on the path, as the large numbers of boulders in the path and the simulation of reduced oxygen levels was having a partial effect. I'd been wondering how pegasi breathe at these altitudes, and this run seemed to suggest that they naturally have higher capacity lungs to handle the thin air.
I managed to complete the course in about 70 minutes- not great, not terrible, according to the previous chart times I'd apparently recorded. "Still," the doctor said, "that sort of run would have knocked the wind out of most pegasi. You're in exceptionally good shape for your age, Your Majesty."
After that I was feeling pretty exhausted, but the doctor's words were encouraging. I went to have a shower to relax, and then got myself ready for the morning's business. Luckily, there were only two items marked on top of the usual paperwork.
The first saw myself and my guards arriving at a building. It was large and grey, and seemed to mostly be made of concrete and steel based on the exterior. I consulted my city map as best I could through my sunglasses. It seemed we were in the industrial district, an area of the city not really explored in the film or subsequent media. I made my way across the grounds from the transport dock towards the entrance.
A group of soldiers were already waiting there, led by one in another of those strange uniforms which I had seen that Sky Chaser fellow wearing at the parade. He looked a bit older though- judging age was never my strong suit, and with military personnel it's hard to tell anyway, but if I had to hazard a guess I'd say early 50s. Funnily enough, that got me thinking- I'd never actually figured out how old I was. Possibly the first instance of a TF in the entire history of the universe where the subject gets older as a result.
"Your Majesty," the figure said, and bowed. "We have been looking forward to your visit."
"Ah, General Gulfstream," the Colonel said. "Good to see you again."
"And you, Colonel Opwinden," Gulfstream replied. So that was what the Colonel was called. Interesting name.
"What have you to showcase to us today?" I asked, adjusting my sunglasses again to try and balance out the light issues.
"This structure was opened only a few weeks ago by the Duke of Stratusburg," the General explained as he led us in. "It's the ultimate in a military production plant. It is specially designed to cope with the pressures of any defence needs we may have and can handle the construction and testing of any vehicle." He smiled. "Come, Your Majesty. I have wonders to showcase, as a brave new world awaits."
Something about him seemed a bit off, but I chalked it up to a figure eager to gain the sovereign's approval.
Turns out the place was a tank factory. I had only become aware of Zephyr Heights' military power a few days ago, as the film implies the military is incompetent, but the sheer numbers of vehicles inside this structure was remarkable.
Prominent amongst them was a large box with a turret on the top. According to the information I was given, this was a Crusader V, which is the latest in Pegasus tank technology. I'll admit to knowing relatively little about military vehicles, so most of the numbers and terms meant nothing to me. As the vehicle began to roll about the proving grounds, I pulled on the protective earpieces- not because of the noise from the vehicle, but because General Gulfstream was boring us to death.
"And this vehicle contains the latest in shock absorbing armour, combined with digital IFF suite and target tracking. This machine can operate in the middle of a hurricane and still be able to complete its mission. Furthermore, night vision and infrared equipment allows it to track targets through any environments."
I nodded. "How very interesting."
He nodded. "Your Majesty, there is a space in the gunner's position if you'd like to take a ride."
I laughed. "It's probably best I don't. A run over that would probably shake my skeleton to pieces!"
Most of the party laughed at that. Having said that, the live fire demonstration was interesting, if only to reveal how much firepower these machines had.
The next item on the list interested me. It was simply marked 'spa with Pipp'. I queried this with her. "Pipp, this is probably just my hoofwriting not being easy to read, but what does 'spa with Pipp' mean?"
Pipp smiled. "Mom, don't you remember? We go to the spa every week! Great way of getting the knots out of the mane, amiright?"
Well, that's another mystery cleaned up. At the spa, another great mystery was resolved. Bronies- people who are fans of ponies such as us- often wonder how I manage to maintain my simply marvellous appearance.
It turns out the answer is not Botox injections, as they thought. As both myself and Pipp relaxed, trying to clear our minds of whatever had been happening that day (and trust me, there was a lot to clear- that demonstration had been noisy), it turns out the answer to my apparent eternal youth is a decent helping of moisturiser and some other things that I don't really know the name of.
Even if I don't fully understand how it works, it was incredibly relaxing nontheless. I emerged feeling very refreshed and ready for the rest of the week. They even offered to restyle my mane, which I politely declined as I'd already had it done. They did get my tail back in order though, which was nice- you try lying down with a tail brace on.
I returned to the Palace after that, as we had a lot to do in preparation for next week. I had heard Pipp was writing a new song for the Royal Celebration next week, and I had some more papers to sign. I was a little surprised, given I had been told by one of my advisors that Parliament was in recess for the week. I could only assume I was clearing the leftover backlog of legislation from the most recent section.
I had succeeded in clearing most of it when the dinner bell rang, and after dinner was concluded (it seemed as though Pipp and Zipp had had similarly action packed days), I returned to do some more. I was not knocking off until that stack was finished, even if it meant staying up incredibly late.
Luckily, it didn't. I was glancing through my list, ensuring I hadn't missed anything, when suddenly my phone buzzed. I picked it up and saw the message was from Pipp. I swiped the button to the left and held it to my ear. "Hello?"
"Is your camera set correctly? All I can see is darkness," came the reply.
I glanced at the device, and then realised it was a video call. "Ah, sorry Pipp. I didn't realise it was a video call."
"No worries," Pipp replied. "My song's ready, if you want to hear it."
I beamed. "Of course! I'll get down to the throne room as quickly as possible."