The Strength Within
We recently finished an old book titled The Power of One. It was a lovely book that, in the beginning, I expected to not like. I asked the Boy Scout, “Is this a boxing book?”, with a feeling disgruntlement. He looked at me incredulously, like I had highly insulted him, and shook his head. And then we began. I loved it. There was boxing woven in but the story was rich and beautiful. One part that touched me, though there were many, was at the point where he loses a close friend that chose his time and way of death. As the protagonist questions why his friend chose to die without him, he says.... But secretly I knew I couldn’t have done it. I would have clung to the last thread of life in him. I also knew that he would have known this. But it didn’t help the numbness. It didn’t take away the need, the dull permanent ache under my heart on the exact spot where you work on another boxer till he runs out of steam. That was it precisely: the bell had gone, but I couldn’t find the s...