NINE
Cain
I needed to train, and there was nothing that was going to stop me. If Alicia could come in and do a class with no worries, why could I not train? Injuries that I had in the past were worse than this. I had my knee brace on that was holding it in place. What harm could I do? If I trained light, then I could pull up if it began to hurt. I needed to get moving again. Two months on the shelf was a long time. Each day with Alicia had seen it getting stronger, and I was getting my conzdence back.
It was another morning, and the class had been a success with over a do’en students all showing up. The mornings ran diSerently to the afternoon classes. Whilst the zghters typically took most of my time, the mornings allowed me to pass my knowledge along to the juniors that were often at times around Tobiasx age, with him often joining in on the class. qome of the zghters were late teenagers, but this felt like the true ne-t generation.
I watched as the children were all znishing a pad round with each other, yet I did not have enough eyes to watch them all, ensuring they had proper techniMue. It was diSerent to the adult classes, with the eightDyearDolds often not holding the pads correctly, but there was no force or malice
CC R.A. KAO8E, RATT RERERAO“
behind most of their strikes. I walked between them, oSering corrections where I could, showing them the diSerent techniMues. The eightDyearDolds were only allowed to strike with kicks and punches, with elbows and knees oS limits.
Their last round wrapped up, and I called them all to the middle of the gym ”oor. They lined up and bowed out, all of them, e-cept for Tobias running back to the arms of their waiting parents. Instead of leaving the gym, he walked up to me and zst bumped me with the grin that I had fallen in love with all those years ago plastered all over his face.
YWhat did you think, !ain?P
YUeah, good session, bud. Ixm really proud of you.P
YThank youBP
YAre you going to go to school now?P
YUepB Ixll see you later. Hop will take me.P
I leant down and felt the sweat that had accumulated on his little body
and could not help but smile as we embraced. Y“kay, your lunch is in the fridge. Rake sure you have a good day for me, okay.P
YI love you.P
I sighed. YI love you too, little man.P
Tobias ran out of the gym, and I wondered how he still had energy. Nsually after I trained, I was drained, not wanting to do anything else for the rest of the day until classes started in the afternoon. Training broke me, but steel sharpened steel. There was something satisfying and rewarding when I kicked a bag one thousand times a day. Then when it came to doing the real thing, I could be sure of what I was doing. There were no doubts in my mind. “r at least there had been until the last zght, but I could not remember the kick that had shattered my knee.
Hart of me wished I could go back to when I was Tobiasx age. I rememD bered how dad had the gym all those years ago when he had zrst bought it and when we had zrst started training. 9ack when I had no worries and all I had to do was get through the school day and worry about training
LAOK 8;“!8q C0
afterwards. 9ack when Karcy had still been alive. 1ife had been simpler back then.
I grimaced, not wanting to think about the past. There were reminders hung all around the gym, and dad had been adamant that we could never take them down out of respect. I watched Tobias leave and sat myself down on one of the weight benches that was underneath a sMuat rack. Lard 8nocks had everything and was one of the few things that I could accredit my success to. Even then, it still was not enough. I wanted more. I needed to train2 doctorxs orders be damned.
The more that I did not train, the more that my frustration was mountD ing. I could only rest for so long. qighing did nothing for my frustration. I stood up and readjusted the sMuat rack so that I could bench it over head. I was feeling ”uid enough from my morning ritual which involved mediation as well as some light stretching. It was the only way that I could keep my body feeling like it was in a position to compete. The last eight weeks had been hell with my absolute lack of training.
Ry knee was feeling zne and I laid back on the weight bench. With the rack oS the bar, I started to lift and could feel my endorphins already startD ing to ”ush through my body. I continued training and lifting, feeling like I had never done it before in my life. I readjusted the weight, not wanting to overload my body, but within three sets, I was already beginning to feel like myself again. Was this all I had needed? Ounning was something I did every morning, but I had tried at least once a week to run, only to retreat back inside after a few meters of sprinting.
9ut today I was feeling better than ever. Herhaps it was time? I eyed the solid white bags that were all around me, just waiting to be hit. There would be no point in going straight into kicking drills. I could work my upper body to e-haustion zrst. Kespite most of my students needing their gloves to strike the white bags with their hands, I did not. The years upon years of discipline that dad had instilled in me meant I could hit them with my bare knuckles. Ry zsts were iron and the bags would bend to my will.
I started simple, striking with simple jabs and straights. I was stagnant but for the moment that was what my body needed. Even though I had not hit anything in anger in eight weeks, the muscle memory was there, and it was all ”ooding back to me. Ry zsts responded to the bag, and I thought it was stupid that I had not been doing this sooner. It felt good, and I was feeling powerful, and each strike made a good connection.
When the jabs and straights felt better, I stopped to rest. Three minutes on, one minute oS. That was my rule because as I got older, I had learned the hard way that recovery was key. I stood in front of the white bag, staring at it. I had rested long enough. I could work on more than just my arms, right? I glared at the white bag, imagining that it was an opponent standing across from me in the ring. And there was nothing that stood between me and it. ;o referee to stop me from pummelling it into the ground.
I started to work the bag, stepping around it working my checks, like the theoretical opponent was leg chopping me. It was slow to begin with, but as I started to throw three or four punch combos, I wanted to start kicking. I threw the zrst kick. It was low, direct and with absolutely no power. It felt foreign to me, having not done any of them for eight weeks. Uet if I wanted to zght again, this is what I needed to do. Ry kicking had always been a strength, several of my zghts won by knockout from a wellDplaced and timed kick.
The ne-t combo was easy, just a jab, straight, hook into a kick. This was my bread and butter that I had done for decades at this point. There would be no point in pulling a longer combo out when I was just trying to get repetitions in. I continued to work away on the bag as the minutes ticked down towards nineDthirty. I was feeling good. Ry intensity was increasing as was my strike rate. Everything was feeling like it was returning to normal, but I unleashed another kick at the bag.
I wanted to hit it dead in the middle, at about chest height, aiming for my opponentxs kidney. ;ow the opponent had a face. It was none other than Kamien qlater. The man that had taken the !qA light heavyweight title from me. I could see him as clear as day, dressed in his ”amboyant blue and gold attire. Le was coming at me, landing teep after teep. Each kick was pressing my defence, but I ate it. Ry leg checks were good and my guard was tight. I could see his smiling face, his yellowDgold mouthguard shining under the bright lights from overhead. I wanted revenge and I wanted my title back.
Kamien swung in closer to me, faking a stepDover and I stepped back to counter it. I lashed out with a teep of my own. Kamien caught it and for whatever reason let me go. Ry knee protested under the weight of the blow, but I was still hungry, wanting to pressure him into making a mistake. I landed a jab sMuare on the bag, right where Kamienxs face would have been. Le did not block it. A leg chop followed, and then my switch kick came.
The pivot was good, and I felt my hips turning, right up until my knee decided to give out. I felt it go underneath me, my foot almost at a ninetyDdegree angle. I yelled out in pain and dropped to the ”oor, my one good leg, the one that was kicking. There was nothing I could do e-cept clutch at my knee and try to e-tend it out. I heard the gym door opening behind me before that familiar 9ritish accent zlled my ears.
Y!ainB What the fuck are you doing?P
I could do nothing that prevented Alicia from running over to me. qhe dropped to her knees as my own burnt with pain. qhe immediately went to the area of pain, and I could feel her hands running over me. I tried to push her away, but Alicia was insistent.
YWill you stop? Ixm trying to help youBP
YUou havenxt helped me so farBP
Alicia drew back away from me, her touch gone from my skin and it immediately felt heated. Ler e-pression that had once been neutral was now disgusted. I paused, thinking about what I had just said. I had reacted in anger and there had been no need for it. If she had not helped, we would not be paying her any longer.
YThen why do I keep getting paid?P
I grumbled and knew that I had to apologise. It tasted like bitter copper in my mouth as I struggled to znd the words. YIxm sorry. Ixm just frustrated, Alicia. Uouxre good at what you do and I know Ixm getting stronger. I can feel it.P
YThen you go and put yourself in this shitty situation.P
Y9ecause I couldnxt train, Alicia. Uou know how pissed oS Ixve been getting.P
YAnd to think I was going to clear you ne-t week to get back into drills. I donxt think another three days would have been enough. !an you sit up?P
I nodded and now that she had been working on my knee, it was beginD ning to loosen up again, and at least I had not torn my R!1 again. I sat up and Alicia helped me, giving her forearm for me to use. Aliciaxs e-pression was concerned, as she sat up on her knees. qhe rose to her feet and helped me all the way until I was standing. I was still standing as Alicia moved towards the table and I followed her, barely able to limp over to it.
Alicia saw that I was struggling and came back over to help me onto the table. qhe was in her physio persona and there was no snark from her, only concern. There was no towel on the table, and I covered it in my sweat. Whilst Alicia was a good head shorter than me, she was strong, able to move me around on the table as to how she wanted me. There was no doubt in my mind that I was in for more pain. I closed my eyes as Alicia started to work again. I rela-ed into her hands, knowing that I would soon be on the mend again. Alicia tutted over me as I felt my knee click.
YUouxre lucky you didnxt do more damage. This could have set you back to the start of the recovery process.P
YLow much longer will it take?P
Alicia clicked her tongue again and I could see her shaking her head out of the corner of my eye. YI donxt know without seeing if youxve actually done damage. Uou might need to get another scan.P
I groaned at her. YI donxt have time, Alicia. I need to get back in the ring.P
YWell, you still need to take it slow. I know you miss it and I know you want that title back, but I canxt keep you out of the ring if you really want to get back into it.P
Y;o, no you canxt. Ixm not used to taking instructions.P
qhe cast a side eye at me. ;ow there was snark. YUeah, I know.P
Yqo, back in the ring on Ronday, doc?P
Alicia echoed the words that I had said to her before she had opted to join in on a class. Why was she making them come back to bite me on the ass now? I wanted to cringe upon hearing the words, but something in the way she said them made them sound good to my ears.
YUeah, but itxs your funeral.P