TRAINING CAN BE SO LONELY

I wipe the sweat tear from my stinging eyes, using my big red 18oz boxing gloves. All I can hear is my laboured breaths and gasping heart. My lungs feel as if they need to blow, my garage is damp dark and wet. I begin another round on my 5 foot bag, my muscles try to fight the lactic acid. I am training hard, I am focused. I am alone with just myself to talk too.

I'm running into a sprint now, was jogging seconds ago. I wonder what my peers are doing at this moment in time? Do they know that I'm up to this secluded task? I try a hill and feel elated when I reach the top, the sound of a passing train...just me here. Another runner fly's me by and winks, he's like me? Cars roar past, making me feel the only one.

I'm going up and down the stairs on my hands, then onto press ups. I open the window and stretch, looking out across the estate I say to my self...

If only I had more friends to train with?

IT HURTS TO DO THIS!

Okay, I need to advance lower. But my legs are killing me! The night before I did a lot of lunges, squats and stance work. Not to mention practicing a jumping Kata with a ruck sack on my back. I over done it. Or did I? I love the pain, it tells me I broke my comfort points. My tissues are broken down and need repair, I'll be stronger. People think that because your not big, you can't be strong. It's what you can do, not what you look like. Walking down the stairs was agony, I came down like a clown! I'm not even sure why I'm horse stancing again, testing my new digy cam? Good excuse Emsley.