She gritted her teeth and stood it.
After fifteen minutes of hell, which proved beyond any doubt that Margo was in over her head, Sven Bailey stepped back and said, “Okay. What’ve you learned?”
Margo rubbed the freshest set of bruises and said, “That I have a lot to learn. I knew that last night.”
”That’s it? That’s all you’ve figured out?” His tone relegated her to the realm of idiots, worms, and cockroaches.
Margo bit her tongue with difficulty.
Sven rested hands on hips and studied her. “I was under the impression you were here to learn something.”
”So show me something to learn! All you’ve done so far is throw me around like a sack of flour!”
”Sit down.”
”What?”
He jabbed an emphatic middle finger toward the mat. “Sit!”
She sat
”Close your eyes.”
She did so.
”Now, breathe.”
Margo felt like an idiot, sitting in the middle of the mat with people staring at her while she did nothing gut breathe..
”Forget Malcolm, forget the other people. Concentrate on your center. Breathe. Down’ to the bottom. Hold it. Hold it…. Exhale. Again.”
Grudgingly, her body began to relax. Tension made itself known in burning muscles from neck to hips. She shifted slightly for a more comfortable position.
”What are you feeling?”
”My neck is tight. My shoulders, too. My back hurts.”
”Good, that’s where you’re fighting yourself. That’s what I’m talking about when I ask what you’ve learned. You’re fighting yourself as hard as you were fighting me. Keep breathing.”
For half an hour, all Sven Bailey let her do was breathe and listen to her body’s multiple complaints. When he finally allowed her to stand up again she felt looser, but restless.