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Motivation
My whole body is sore. Sweat is pouring down my face. The boxing gloves on my fists feel like they weigh a ton. But none of that matters, I have to push through the pain. All that matters now is winning this fight. I’ve been a boxer basically all my life, I haven’t been good at anything else. I’ve just recently gotten married to the most beautiful women in the world. The only problem is that she was born paralyzed from the waist down, her hospital bills are expensive. I told her that she wouldn’t be rolling in dough if she married me but she didn’t mind. Recently I’ve been looking at reconstructive nerve surgery, I haven’t said anything to her yet because I know she would say that it was too expensive but she deserves it. That’s why I wasn’t going to say anything until I had the money ready. That’s why I’m fighting a fighter way out of my league right now.
I dodge a jab and throw one of my own. He dodges and follows up with a right hook, I block it just in time. I throw a punch at his left ribs and it connects. The other fighter seems stunned. Before I can follow up though the bell rings. We go back to our corners. My trainer tries to give me advice. I block it out. I’ve blocked everything other than winning out of my mind, I don’t even know what my opponent looks like. When I look at him I don’t see another boxer, I see the only thing standing between me and making my wife happy. The bell rings again, time for the eighth round. My opponent and I approach each other and tap gloves like all boxers do at the beginning of a new round. The announcer signals for the round to begin and before I can react I’m being rushed. My opponent begins wailing on me, forcing me into the corner as I try to back away. I try to block but my upper body and head get pounded on. It takes everything I have just to keep standing. If I don’t end this soon then everything is over. Everything I’ve worked for will be in vain. My opponent seems to have the same reasoning because a right hook is heading right for my head. I duck under it. My fist slams into his left ribs again, then my other hand slams into his right side. As his hands go down to block his body my right fist is already moving upwards. It slams into his chin, a perfect uppercut. My opponent is left dizzy and disoriented so I throw a left hook to his cheek. His body lands with a thud.
That’s it, it’s over. I can hear the crowd cheering and that’s nice but all I care about is the fact that my wife can finally get the treatment she deserves.
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