Читать книгу The Fighter Within. Everyone Has A Fight-Insights into the Minds and Souls of True Champions онлайн

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My dad was working at a factory making good money, and because I was looking for work after college to start my own life, it was a quick fix. The factory was hiring summer students for $7.00 less per hour than they paid regular workers, which was still a lot. I accepted the job in a heartbeat and got to work. The conditions were terrible. It was hot, smoky, hazy, polluted, and it entailed hard manual labor with some power-tripping supervisors added to the mix.

A month into the job, I was more than acclimated and a productive employee, so much so that they offered me a full-time regular employee position. I could not complain about the job, as it paid well, but the beginning was hard, as with any new beginning. I woke up in the middle of the night to cramping forearms and hands, and every day I blew from my nose black sludge mixed with blood.

Beata and I had a plan: work for about a year, bank the money, and I would become a police officer. For a number of reasons it never happened. It was easy to get sucked into the thought of big money even though I had much bigger plans for myself. I got used to working the three-shift rotation, meaning each week we switched from working mornings (my favorite) to afternoons (my least favorite) and nights. After a year, I started working on the newer automotive line, which was easier and involved less lifting and welding. The months quickly turned into years.