Writing Reality

"...The guy’s bleeding out of two places. A Cutman that’s what I am.   I feel I am more of teacher than a trainer…to fight the proper way. Any damn time you get hit.   You get hit ‘cause you made a mistake. You can dip, slip, slide, zig zag, bob and weave.   Why did you get hit with the jab?” Phil “The Sicilian Cutman” Mondello asks rhetorically. https://www.amazon.com/Jody-Lynn-Reicher/e/B00R3VUZ18/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_10?qid=1418802234&sr=1-10

Power in the Shadows... I learned early on intuitively that pain meds, anesthetics don't really save you.   They rarely help you. In a brutal lessons as a child, I learned control. My Mom would say, "Self-comtrol" was extremely important, yet she understood pain, deep unrelenting pain... My Dad on the other hand had pain, yet he inflicted more than he felt... He demanded bravery over the top.  He demanded no whining of pain over the top. He demanded that it was a weakness of anyone to take any medicine,  yet it was okay for him to drink after 11am... It was okay for him to get stoned...to throw temper tantrums...Because he was king...And if he had his way... He would teach people with his brutality... why? So, he could feel powerful...

https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07CGY7Q97/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_bibl_vppi_i7 Chapter Twenty-Six Orange, Blue and Yellow Hue …I take off my vest, my hat, headlamp, camelbak gloves and jacket.   It is now after seven in the morning the sun has risen, and initially, a seemingly cloudless sky has appeared.       I put my gloves and headlamp into my camelbak’s front pocket.   I retrieve my sunglasses, putting them on.   I readjust putting on my camelbak and tighten the straps.    I then pull my reflective vest back over my head and over the camelbak .   I place the baseball cap back on my head, and put my sunglasses on top of the cap.      I take my jacket and intertwined the sleeves knotting them into the straps of the camelbak .   I step out of the shop.   I pause.   I look around.   I feel the coolness of the air on my now sleeveless arms.   I feel freer.   Drinking, I put down twenty ounces of water.   I turn my watch back on as I begin to run north toward Warwick Turnpi

After the sixty-five mile training run.... Chapter Twenty-Nine The Farmer and His Wife     I then made my way walking across the Sussex Queens Diner parking lot.   I knew that I had to clean up in the bathroom after ordering coffee, I think as I approach the lobby of the diner.       I entered the lobby before opening the door to the dining area.   I take off my camelbak and untied my jacket, smelled it, it smelled like the clean fresh air from outside. ‘Thank God’ .   I thought to myself.   I donned the jacket back on.   I pushed my sunglasses up to fix my hair from my baseball cap, I’d been wearing to protect me from the sun.     Then held my camelbak and entered the dining area.   I then ventured to do something I’d never done before.   I sat on the diner’s stool that faced the somewhat typical backdrop of a New Jersey diner, where there are mirrors behind the counter that appear planted in between where waitresses stand watching customers, and the machinery