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The real Sarutobi wiped sweat from his brow as he stood amongst the wreckage of a very remote training ground. One of his ANBU had signaled a stop to report the latest results of the preliminaries and relay his shadow clone's orders to be confirmed. He would get all those memories back when the clone dispelled but it could hardly dispel after every match and expect to be replaced without anyone noticing.

Sarutobi was every bit as out of shape as he had suspected. With imminent doom staring down his precious village he was working as hard as he possibly could to get back into shape. He'd been spending most of every day, since Kabuto had spilled his weasel-y black guts about the upcoming invasion, training and reconditioning himself. His village would fall only after his own life had been torn, kicking and screaming, from his body.

He suffered the short jutsu examination by the medic-nin his ANBU guard had talked him into bringing to all of his workout sessions. He would admit to himself that it was rather interesting to know exactly how far he could push himself in his training even being such an old man. He would even admit aloud to liking how healing jutsu applied after physical exertion sped up the time required to get back into shape and how it reduced the amount of pain suffered getting there. However, being ANBU… having the best intentions… all that aside, as soon as he brought out his bo-staff for practice those brats were going to get a thrashing they'd remember for the rest of their lives.

Call me old will they? I'll show them geriatric, they'll have so many aches they'll think they have arthritis! Young people, no respect for their elders.

Naruto's Advice, Chapter 16