The Discarded Punching Bag

Tonight, he wrote his first plan for himself. At four, he faced the heavy bag and began drilling the rear straight that had dropped him so many times. The first strike sent pain through his ribs. The seventeenth turned the old injury into burning wire. On the fifty-third, he remembered the minute twist of Han's rear foot. Lu had always been expected to absorb the punch, never study it. He pushed from the floor through knee and hip, letting the shoulder move last. Bang! The bag swung unusually high. Silver words appeared in his vision. [Twenty minutes of effective independent training completed.] [FIRST-MOVER IMPRINT ACTIVATED.]