Pain Don't Hurt: Fighting Inside and Outside the Ring

Pain Don’t Hurt is the no-holds-barred memoir from the single specialist fighter in background to come to the hoop after open-heart surgical procedure, kickboxer Mark “Fightshark” Miller—an inspiring tale of kinfolk, decision, and redemption.

In 2007, Mark Miller used to be a emerging big name in expert kickboxing, until eventually a regimen actual exposed a significant situation that required open-heart surgical procedure. The hindrance helped to briefly reunite his fractured kin and made Miller extra made up our minds than ever to come to the kickboxing ring. yet inside of a 12 months, his mom and dad and brother have been all lifeless, and Miller’s fragile optimism imploded, sending him right into a tailspin of substances and alcohol.

Pain Don’t Hurt is a narrative of very good tenacity, commitment, and difficult work—how one fierce competitor overcame repeated stumbling blocks to achieve his desires. Miller recounts tales starting from his formative years spent within the Steelers locker room to the wonderful existence classes he realized from different warring parties to his successful go back to combating in a Moscow kickboxing ring. He talks in actual fact approximately kinfolk and fatherhood—of the difficult classes approximately masculinity and violence realized from his father. He additionally deals an inspiring, fascinating, and frank account of the fights—both out and in of the ring—that have formed him.

A deeply own account of guts, blood, and glory, Pain Don’t Hurt can pay tribute to the never-say-die spirit embodied in a guy who refuses to backtrack, regardless of the odds.

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Extra of an analogous. without notice, in a flash, I observed it. . . . Tommy was once bullying me. Tommy was once using me again. The ghosts surrounding me dragged me ahead on a wave of violence. Don’t (jab) bully (cross) me (hook) you (cross) fuck (cross). My final right-hand snapped Tommy’s head to the facet, and he crumpled to the ground like a wilted daisy. The ref ran in for the count number, and that i again to my nook hopeful. The calm external concealed a cheering part inside me that was once screaming instantaneously. . . . Don’t wake up, don’t wake up, remain down. . . . The ref was once counting better and better. . . . unexpectedly, at 9, Tommy was once commencing to upward push. His legs have been rubbery and once the ref stated, “Fight,” I rushed in. there has been blood within the water; time for the push. No faster did I shut the gap than the second one bell sounded. Tommy, nonetheless dazed, toddled into his nook, and that i back to mine, crestfallen. “I had him. I had him. He was once fucking down. ” i used to be indignant. My nook used to be desperately attempting to convey me again to the now so i may end the struggle, yet i used to be certain up in thirty seconds in the past, reflecting on how shut he got here not to getting up. 3rd around, bell sounded. I got here into the guts of the hoop. We either all started throwing. This around was once a barn burner. Tommy have been harm final around yet had time to assemble himself and recuperate. So now he used to be risky and annoyed. i used to be simply annoyed. We threw an unrestrained arpeggio of moves. My shoulders have been aching, and there has been fireplace inside of my lungs. ultimate bell, and we went to the corners. i used to be so caught within the moment around that I slightly heard the announcer say that I had misplaced a unanimous choice. My first loss as a certified fighter. My first dent. i used to be so livid with myself. I bought again to the locker room and that i used to be bombarded by means of reporters speaking approximately how the struggle was once the most effective of the night, how we actually went at it. . . . All I stored puzzling over was once that moment around. and the way i wanted Mo was once there. That evening I lay down confident that I needed to struggle Tommy back. I needed to avenge this. yet first, i wished to go the sea. If i used to be to struggle with out Mo in my nook, then i'd in addition struggle far-off. i wished to struggle somewhere the place fights have been part of the folks, part of the tradition. i wished to struggle on a soil that knew blood. i needed to visit the roots of the game I have been education in. bankruptcy six If I inform you I’m reliable, you will most likely imagine I’m boasting. If I inform you I’m no solid, you recognize I’m mendacity. —BRUCE LEE It used to be the 12 months 2000. Ihe rain was once simply starting to fall at the ring in Thailand. the 1st around ended and that i crossed to my nook to take my one-minute holiday. One minute among rounds. One minute to mirror prior to it used to be again into the fray. One minute of an uninterrupted barrage of strategies. the gang was once so loud it blocked out the sound of thunder from above, and the big outdoors stadium of Pattaya, Thailand, reeked of late-evening bloodlust and sweat. The alcohol-soaked attendees have been out in their seats, screaming and begging for carnage.

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