Novel & Cerita การฝึกฝนร่างกาย

Then I put on the boxing gloves I find on a table there. Forming a fist, I use all the power in my body and invest it into my arm muscles as I hit the bag. But it barely even moves. I huff and try again. Forming a tighter and firmer fist, I punch it again and again till I am exhausted but every time, it hardly moves at all. Frustrated as hell, I let out a groan as I try to do it once more when a voice stops me. "You have to train yourself first, grow some muscles, add nutrients to your body, build stamina and get into the habit. You can't go the punching bag first, just like you can't learn how to read without learning the alphabet first."

Instead, what she saw made her blood run cold. He dropped to the ground and began a series of push-ups, his movements crisp and fast. One, two, three—he didn’t falter. His body moved with a discipline that spoke of years of training, not just casual fitness. When he finished, he didn’t pause; he rose fluidly to his feet and began a set of sprints, cutting across the empty field with explosive power. Rhian’s lips parted in disbelief. This wasn’t a jog. This was training. Intense, relentless, almost punishing.

This was someone training the way you train when you genuinely believe no one is in the room. He moved efficiently. No wasted motion, no theater, no checking his form in the mirror the way half this roster does even when they think they're not. He worked through a set, dropped, shook his arms out for exactly four seconds, and went back up. There was something almost brutal about the economy of it. Like his body had been taught, somewhere along the way, that effort without immediate reward was simply the cost of doing business, and he had stopped questioning the bill a long time ago. I realized I had stopped my own set.

"It’s detailed and tailored for your needs. You'll also find a daily exercise routine included. You must follow it without skipping a day. Scarlet, your body needs structure as much as it needs food." She paused briefly, her eyes softening a little before adding, "I’ll also have a DVD sent to you that contains a martial arts training program I have designed personally. These exercises will not only strengthen your body and mind but also train you in self-defense." Her gaze turned sharp, and she leaned slightly forward. "Once your wolf awakens, you must be able to protect yourself. Do you understand?" I nodded again, still feeling half-lost in everything she was telling me.

The familiar scent of sweat and dirt filled the air, setting the stage for what would be a grueling warrior training session. The initial warm-up exercises tested my endurance and agility. I pushed my body to its limits, going through a series of lunges, jumps, and stretches. My muscles screamed in protest, but I refused to let them hold me back. Fatigue was just a temporary obstacle on the path to greatness.

I said coldly, "You still have five miles to go." She took one look at me, and crinkled her nose in disapproval. "How did you not even break a sweat?" She frowned. "I have years of training and discipline under my belt, soldier, and if you want to make it in this training, you better get your ass on the road and keep jogging now." "Is this really necessary?" "Yes." She gaped at me. "What does running have to do with mental strength?" "Without a sound body, you can't have a sound mind. Both go hand in hand. Besides, you also want to learn how to fight. You can't do that without speed which you're currently poor at right now."

He waited for Randu to run for what he called training. 'Pft… The training he said since when did this sadistic punishment become an exercise for stamina? Why not practice lifting weights? For muscles… why not practice climbing trees for agility? Why should you run? Her lungs seemed to explode every time she ran a long-distance.. her legs would be weak and like a squid that had not been exposed to water all day. It feels like she's going to die if she runs…and Burdak calls it training?' Randu started her run, this forest is wide…and she has to go around it ten laps..?

I wanted to train and make progress, but Eliana was hindering me. I paced around my room, feeling restless and angry. I couldn't just sit here and do nothing. I needed to do something to work off my frustration. That's when I remembered the exercise routine Alan had had taught me. It was designed to train my body to acquire as much physical strength as possible.

He thought about the park edge path and the eight years of the familiar — the body knowing the dips and the risings, the attending built into the walking, the practice of the attending in the physical route so thorough that the route itself was the practice. He thought about the apartment and the eight years of the familiar there. The scarf on the hook — not the nothing of it anymore, the body knowing where it was, the hanging of it each evening, the practice without the performance. The pasta on Tuesday evenings — not the checking of the recipe, the body knowing the method, the cooking as the practice of attending in the domestic register. He thought: daily practice is the body's practice.

I asked. "This isn't your training. I'm doing this to gauge how well you fight, which I might add is terrible." He said with a lift of his eyebrows. "Real training begins tomorrow. You're going to go for runs, exercise your muscles, and hit a punching bag. That's the basics." "Alright, that doesn't sound so bad," I said. George grinned. "I can't wait to tell you that the pain you're feeling is just weakness leaving your body." He said. "I've had people throw up after working out with me."