My week has not been that good -- yelling at undisciplined (and perhaps, thieving) kids at church, dealing with the fifth anniversary of my younger sister's death, struggling with planning Black History Month events at work as well as a gospel concert at church -- so to see Junior back at the gym this past Wednesday was a very good thing. He met heavyweight champ Calvin Brock while he was down in North Carolina. He also said it appeared Brock's manager took an interest in how he was working out at a gym down there.
Today, I re-ordered the Ringside hat that I believe one of the young hooligans at church took on Super Bowl Sunday. I figured I might as well order a DVD too, so I got one about mastering the punch mits. I always feel so awkward whether I'm the person holding the mitts or the one punching them. I really want to learn how to use them better.
Danny shook my hand before he left the gym and commented, "Wow, you have a hard grip!" Guys in particular always comment on my firm handshake. It's funny to me. I guess I have hard hands.
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