Roadwork Call

Indoor drills have served their purpose. The floorboards are solid, but a fighter needs raw distance. I stepped down from the runner into the front entryway, heading straight for the towering pair of running sneakers parked by the doormat. Their thick braided laces hung down like heavy utility cables. I took hold of one cord, testing the weave between my gloved palms, and tugged it taut against the brass eyelet. Firm anchor. I looked past the rubber treads toward the thin seam of morning light beneath the front door. It is time to take the pacing outside.