Page 12 of Fight for Forever

“I mean, fighting techniques come after conditioning and upping your fitness.”

“What do you mean?”

“If you want to hold your ground and fight, you need strength. Even more so given you’re always going to be slighter than anyone you may come up against.” Fuck, I hope that didn’t come out wrong. Last thing I want to do is remind her of her past or make her feel inferior.

Megan’s eyes dart away, a look of concentration on her face, like she is computing what I just said.

I don’t want to put her off, but I don’t want to coddle her either. She came to me for a reason. I misread the situation, but if she’s serious, then I will be too.

“It means hard work,” I say, putting my hands on my hips. “We’re talking running, high-intensity interval training, strength and conditioning. We’ll use pads which help with defensive maneuvers and footwork, and then sparring, which simulate actual fighting techniques. You think you can handle all of that?”

She steels her shoulders, her chin high, and she stares right at me with determination. “Yes.”

I nod. “Okay then,” I check out her sneakers. “First things first. Let’s see how fit you are.”

“Using the machines?”

“Nope,” I indicate with my head for her to follow me out of the gym. I go first so I’m not behind where she can’t see me, figuring that was the issue when she first got here. She looks confused, but does as I ask. That bodes well. The last thing I need is resistance.

“Where are we going?”

“Treadmills are fine and have their place when training for a match, but if we’re going running, I prefer to do that outside. It conditions the body as well as the lungs getting fresh air, plus it promotes motivation and endurance when you have a physical finish line.

“It’s too easy to hit the go slow or cool down on a treadmill. Especially when you’re at home and there are other temptations just outside the room. If you’ve run a few miles, then you have to run a few more to get back home.”

Her head turns to the windows. It’s a gorgeous day out, not too hot but dry. She turns back and beams a huge smile at me.

“You might not be smiling when we’re done,” I say.

Megan doesn’t lose the smile. In fact, she looks even more determined than ever. “Bring it on.”

“Okay, Rocky, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

Megan laughs and her whole face lights up. It isn’t a look I’ve ever seen from her before. She’s free, taking control of her life and for the first time, there is no weight on her back.

I’m honored to help her.

Chapter Six

I thought I was relatively fit until I started training with Joey. He took it easy for our first few sessions, as he monitored what level I was at. And it’s nowhere near where he wants me to be.

My body ached in places I didn’t know it could after that first run. My lungs, which he said would be invigorated and healthy, felt like they were about to burst. Fortunately, he didn’t push me too hard, running for two miles. We only ran halfway back to his apartment before slowing to a brisk walk.

It’s been four weeks since we started and most of that has involved running, jump rope, conditioning training and core work. I haven’t gone near a pair of boxing gloves yet. I’m already seeing the difference in my body and my endurance.

My abs are tighter, and my leg and butt muscles are firm enough that there isn’t much jiggle, although my ass will never be tiny.

Spending time with Joey is interesting too. We run four times a week, mostly early in the morning, and have two further sessions at his gym throughout the week, working around his schedule and my shifts at the restaurant where I work.

He talks. A lot. He’s never shied away from telling me all about his life, right down to him being an orphan from when he was seventeen years old, which made me sad, but he had a great family friend who took him in, and he went to college and has had every opportunity to make something of himself.

Joey never questions me about my life, and I haven’t offered anything. Mostly because the past five years revolved around fear, pain and utter helplessness.

I hate I spent so many years being afraid. Never reaching for my dreams or living a life where I can make my own choices. I’m working on not being embarrassed about my past, but I’m a long way off being comfortable enough to say the words outside of therapy sessions.

Joey sets me at ease. He’s intense when he needs to be, but he makes me laugh too.

He’s the exact opposite of how I thought he would be. The stoic, hard MMA fighter who would train me like a drill sergeant. In actuality, he has a thorough and well worked out plan for me, which he runs by me every step of the way, especially when we are switching things up after I’ve gotten used to a series of workouts.

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