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

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The first thing that hit us was the heat and humidity accompanied by the strong odor of sweat and old leather, which I would later learn was a staple scent at any good training facility. The gym was narrow and long with a huge octagon crammed right at the front. There were mats starting at the cage and proceeding all the way to the end of the room. I can honestly say that this gym looked like it came right out of the Rocky movies, with heavy bags lining the walls around the mats, ending at a small kiosk counter stocked with gym wear from the club. A narrow hallway led to the washrooms/changing rooms. It was “old school,” and that is exactly what I liked and needed.

There were at least forty practitioners present in a room that likely should not have exceeded thirty. They were holding and hitting pads with their partners in boxing style, working jabs, uppercuts, hooks, and overhands, making fierce “wahhh” and “psssss” sounds immediately before each impact with the pads. The sounds they were making actually had meaning; it was more than just a psychological war shriek, but it actually helped get air out of their lungs faster to keep them fresh. The fact that everyone present sported sweat-soaked shirts looking as if they just took a dip in a pool meant they were training hard. It is a sport in which the other guy is looking to take your head off or submit you with the thousands of moves available to him or her; you’d better be training smart and hard.