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There was a rattle and a click as Maaike turned on the lights in the dojo. 5 AM, nobody around yet. Maaike had so far been wherever she could, having found am empty broom closet and cushions from an old couch to make a makeshift bed. Yet her crummy sleeping arrangements weren't her biggest worries.
Taking a jumping rope from a box of equipment Maaike gazed at it for a few seconds before finding a comfortable spot on the floor she closed her eyes, finding a comfortable rhytmn, and began to jump. Her thoughts once again turning inward.
Something felt off, why was she even here. Was she even good enough for this new sport. She could have easily gone into coaching at her old job, hell sports analyst maybe. But here she was, failing twice in a row. It sucked.
A whip of air as Maaike opened her eyes again, a stinging feeling spreading through out her leg as Maaike had whipped the cord against her leg, hard enough to make a red gash.
She took a look at the clock. 5.45 AM. Taking a break Maaike sat down, taking a swig from her drink and cracked into a bowl of egg and rice that had been prepared in the Dojo kitchen. She unfolded the paper she had been given by Ash and went over the training again. Something about it felt...off...Maaike had been raised on an old training regime of endurance and power, and to now throw it all away for something a bit faster, more agile. It felt weird.
She felt like an unguided projectile, a stray bullet. Like she had been given the recipe with only half the instructions written down and not telling what she was actually cooking.
She glanced up at the clock again. 6 AM. The early risers should be coming in soon. So Maaike got back up on her feet, headed out to the ring, and began bumping. And bumping, and bumping until her hands felt sore, the nerves in her fingertips dancing as she slammed them onto the canvas again.
...Was she even meant to do this, was this truly her goal in life?
