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“I feel ya. That’s the same thing that brought a lot of other people here, Noah. Hell, same reason I started this club in the first place.” Mack gave him a solid, supportive look, then grabbed some paperwork from a folder. “Okay, here’s the deal. I’d like you to complete this quick-and-dirty member profile and questionnaire before you join in today, and sign this release. But before you can become a formal member, I’m going to need a doc to sign off on a physical. Standard operating procedure. So you can participate in the technical training today, but no sparring.”
Noah’s stomach fell as Mack secured the stapled pages to a clipboard. What if the doctor wouldn’t clear him for this?
Mack must’ve seen something on his face, because the man squeezed his shoulder. “Lots of people here have dealt with head trauma, and we have precautions we can put in place for people who’ve maybe already bee
n dropped on their heads one too many times.” He gave a wicked grin. “So don’t worry, okay? Oh, and if you flip to the last page, you’ll see a strength-training and conditioning program I recommend. A bunch of us work out together when we can. You’re welcome to join.”
“Sounds great. Thanks,” Noah said, the reassurance helping. Mack left him to complete the paperwork. For a moment, Noah watched the group over on the mats working through a series of stretches, then his gaze dropped back to the forms.
On the one hand, he felt more of that excitement from earlier—before running in to Ethan had left him feeling like shit again. On the other, not being able to spar tonight had his shoulders dropping in disappointment. Some part of him had been counting on fighting to release some of the stress and anger that always seemed to be ballooning inside him.
On the first page, Noah completed the profile sheet which gathered basic contact information, military service data, and the specifics of any injuries. On the second, he found the questionnaire, which got more personal—asking a whole series of questions about state of mind of the applicant.
Noah found himself thinking of his list from the art class this morning as he circled how much he agreed or disagreed with statements like, I often feel emotionally out of control, or I often feel irrationally angry or anger that is out of proportion to its cause. He found himself strongly agreeing across the board.
The third page asked him to detail his experience with various forms of martial arts. He had a lot of experience with boxing from the Corps, where he’d also picked up some kickboxing. And he’d been a wrestler in high school and college. But he had no familiarity with some of the other disciplines used in mixed martial arts fighting, like Jiu-Jitsu, Judo, Karate, Muay Thai, and Taekwondo—all of which he was looking forward to learning more about.
At the back of the packet, Noah found the training and conditioning regimen Mack had mentioned and an equipment checklist. He had a cup and mouth guard with him, but he’d have to pick up the right clothing, hand wraps, gloves, head gear, knee pads, and shin guards before the next class.
He supposed that not having all the gear he needed was another good reason not to actually spar tonight, which led him to the physical form he’d have to get his doc to sign off on. Noah wasn’t thrilled about that because he loathed going to the doctor. It forced him to confront shit he’d rather not. But it would be worth it to have a chance at something that might actually help.
“All set?” Mack asked, walking up to him a few minutes later.
“Yeah.” Noah rose and toed off his shoes.
“Then head out for the warm-up and I’ll look this over.” Mack took the clipboard from him.
Out on the mats, Noah found a space at the back of the group and joined right in on the standing quad stretches. They moved on to standing hamstrings, hip flexor, and calf stretches next. Hawk and Colby were at the front of the group demonstrating each of the moves, and then they both went down to their knees.
“We’ve got two prospective members here tonight,” Hawk said. “Tara Hunter.” A woman wearing her long brown hair up in a ponytail gave a wave. “And Noah Cortez.”
Noah gave a single nod as some of the others turned to look at him. He was glad he wasn’t the only newbie here, although Tara made him look at the group anew to see that she wasn’t the only female student. A dark-skinned woman with shoulder-length curls sat toward the front of the group and another woman with jet black hair in an intricate-looking braid knelt at the far side.
“For the sake of our prospective students, I’m going to move a little slower through the yoga positions tonight,” Hawk said. “Colby will come around to check you.”
Yoga? That was about the last thing Noah expected at MMA training.
Hawk’s gaze scanned the group. “The first position is called child’s pose. Lower your head as you sit on your heels. Breathe out as you stretch your arms forward on the floor, trying to stretch as far forward as you can while keeping your butt on your heels.”
Noah did as the man said, feeling kinda self-conscious even though the position offered a stretch all down his lats and back that felt good.
“We do yoga because your mind is your most important piece of equipment, and the peacefulness, mindfulness, and discipline of yoga can help you regain control of nervous systems that have been stressed and are on edge,” Hawk continued, his voice even, calm. “Concentrate on your breathing, on taking long breaths in and out.”
Colby came around and offered some guidance as Hawk worked them through a few other poses. With the lack of appetite and sleep, Noah hadn’t been particularly kind to his body these past months, and he was definitely feeling that as they finished the warm-up.
“Okay,” Colby said. “If you don’t have gloves, you can grab a pair from the bin. Otherwise, our technical skills session today is going to focus on striking patterns.”
Noah and Tara were the only two who needed to borrow gloves, and they met up over at the benches.
“Hey,” she said, wearing a friendly smile. She was way shorter than him and had a prominent scar that circled part of her neck. Noah couldn’t help but wonder what’d caused it. “I’m glad I’m not the only new person here.”
“Me, too,” Noah said, trying on a pair of thick fingerless gloves. “I was in the Corps. You?”
“Navy,” she said, pulling off one pair and trying on another. She punched her hands together. “These work. Nice to meet you.”
“You, too,” Noah said as they rejoined the group.
“Okay,” Colby said, standing at the front of the class. “A couple of things to remember about striking. You want to pop in and out quick, which reduces the opportunity for your opponent to strike. And you don’t want to be predictable, so mix up your striking pattern and the pacing of your strikes.” The man demonstrated a quick attack with a punching combo and sprung straight back out, and then he showed some variations where he came back at angles. “Give it a try.”
