“I've seen it.”
“Then why are you trying to train harder instead of training smarter?”
Marcus rubbed his jaw.
“Because I don't want him thinking he can push me around.”
Elena looked at him.
“This isn't about what he thinks.”
Marcus stood.
“I'm going to work the bags.”
“Marcus.”
He stopped.
“Your shoulder needs to be checked.”
“After training.”
“Before training.”
He left without answering.
Elena watched him go.
Then she picked up her phone and called the club's sports therapist.
At nine thirty, Marcus was hitting the heavy bag.
His combinations were fast.
His power was obvious.
But his movement was uneven.
He planted too heavily on his front foot, and his left shoulder rose whenever he threw a right cross.
He was compensating.
Althea entered the training area carrying a bucket of clean towels.
She stopped near the equipment shelf.
Marcus threw another combination.
His right hand landed hard.
He winced slightly.
Then he threw again.
Althea watched for several seconds.
“Your shoulder hurts.”
Marcus stopped.
He looked toward her.
“I'm fine.”
“That's what people say when they don't want to stop.”
He wiped his forehead.
“Are you a therapist now?”
“No.”
“Then don't diagnose me.”
Althea nodded.
“Fair enough.”
She placed the towels on the shelf.
But before she left, she added, “You are changing your mechanics to protect something.”
Marcus stared at her.
“What?”
“Your left shoulder.”
He looked down.
“You can see that?”
“Yes.”
“From over there?”
“Yes.”
He gave a short laugh.
“That's impressive.”
Althea said nothing.
Marcus threw another combination.
His shoulder rose again.
He stopped.
“Fine. What would you do?”
Althea looked at him.
“Right now?”
“Yes.”
“Stop hitting the bag.”
He frowned.
“That's not helpful.”
“It is if your shoulder is injured.”
He lowered his gloves.
For a moment, he looked as though he might argue.
Then Elena entered the room.
“Good. You're still here.”
Marcus turned.
“Don't start.”
“I already called the therapist. He's coming at ten.”
“I don't need—”
“Marcus.”
Elena's tone ended the argument.
He looked away.
Althea picked up her towels.
“I'll leave you to it.”
As she passed Marcus, she stopped.
“There's a difference between pushing through discomfort and ignoring information.”
He looked at her.
She continued.
“One can make you stronger. The other can make you foolish.”
Then she left.
Marcus stared after her.
Elena crossed her arms.
“She's right.”
He sighed.
“Everybody's suddenly an expert.”
“No. Everybody is tired of watching you hurt yourself.”
The therapist confirmed what Elena suspected.
Marcus had inflammation around the shoulder joint and significant muscle tightness from overuse.
There was no major tear, but he needed several days away from heavy striking and a modified training plan.
Marcus hated the recommendation.
He hated the idea of losing training time.
Most of all, he hated the thought of Daniel Reyes preparing while he was being told to rest.
For the next two days, he remained at the gym but avoided full-contact work.
He watched the amateur team.
He reviewed footage.
He worked on lower-body conditioning.
And he became increasingly irritated.
On Sunday afternoon, Ben Keller approached him.
“Can I ask you something?”
Marcus was sitting near the ring, reviewing a video on his tablet.
“What?”
“Could you watch me work?”
Marcus looked up.
“Work on what?”
“Footwork.”
Marcus glanced toward the far side of the room.
Althea was helping another student with a basic defensive movement.
He looked back at Ben.
“Didn't you already work on that?”
“Yes.”
“With Althea?”
Ben nodded.
Marcus set down the tablet.
“Show me.”
Ben stepped into the open space.
He began moving.
His footwork was improved, but still inconsistent.
Marcus watched.
“Your weight is too far back.”
Ben adjusted.
“Again.”
Ben repeated the movement.
“Your rear foot is dragging.”
Ben tried again.
“Don't look at your feet.”
Ben nodded.
Marcus stepped forward.
“Move when I move.”
Ben began circling.
Marcus advanced.
Ben angled away.
For a few seconds, the movement worked.
Then Marcus increased the pressure.
Ben stepped backward.
Marcus followed.
Ben crossed his feet.
“Stop.”
Ben froze.
Marcus pointed.
“You did it again.”
“I know.”
“Then why do you keep doing it?”
Ben looked down.
“I don't know.”
Marcus sighed.
“You're thinking too much.”
Ben nodded.
Marcus stepped closer.
“Look at me. You're never going to improve if you keep making the same mistake.”
Ben's expression tightened.
Marcus continued.
“You've been here months. You should be further along.”
Ben swallowed.
“I know.”
“Then act like it.”
Althea had stopped working with the other student.
She watched quietly.
Ben tried again.
This time he moved too quickly and lost his balance.
Marcus shook his head.
“Come on.”
Ben's shoulders dropped.
Althea approached.
“That's enough.”
Marcus turned.
“We're training.”
“I can see that.”
“Then let us work.”
Althea looked at Ben.
“How are you feeling?”
“Fine.”
“Are you tired?”
Ben hesitated.
“A little.”
Althea nodded.
“Take a break.”
Marcus scoffed.
“He doesn't need a break. He needs discipline.”
Althea turned toward him.