It wasn't that bad of a climb, compared to the physical activity Zhanna was used to. Not easy enough that she could call the Americans soft or lightweight, of course, but she was fairly certain that the propaganda being written about this team would be saying that anyway. That's how it usually worked with the capitalists.

Either way, without anyone to talk to besides the Spaniard who was busy harassing the German siblings, it gave Zhanna the excuse to focus on the run and power on through, hovering at the front of the pack if you ignored the Canadian, Kaneda (she had to start remembering them by name sometime), the little cheater. Of course some would call it a creative use of their abilities, but Zhanna still felt that Zhanna performing a feat on her own meant much more then Kaneda using his powers to do the same thing. Kaneda was handed what Zhanna had to work for, and it's the blood and sweat of honest work that makes it worthwhile.

Plus, she liked her own powers better anyway.

Before Zhanna knew it though the trek up and down the Currahee was over, and Zhanna felt pretty damn good about it. A good workout mixed with a reaffirmation of your own hard work will do that. Shadowboxing in place after finishing her run, a habit she picked up back at university, she wondered if she could get away with a second run up the mountain before the Captain ordered them to get in uniform and prepare for lunch. [color=ed1c24]"Spaghetti...[/color] she sounded out as she considered the unfamiliar dish. It sounded Italian, a bit of an odd choice considering who the Italians happened to be friends with at the moment. They could just call it something else, like...liberty noodles? No that was just stupid, Zhanna decided. Unfortunate implications aside, the metal bending Russian quickly and efficiently retreated to the barracks after the orders were given, reappearing at the barracks in her uniform complete with all her polished medals and insignias.