The day of my first fight, May 2007. Pacific Northwest, USA
The sun burns hot on the back of my neck and reflects back up into my face from the fiberglass beneath my feet. My lips, sun scorched and cracked while my hands all but glow white once de-gloved. I am shades of red, white, and brown from days of changing work clothes in attempt to combat the unpredictable sun rays. Having finally broke 100 degrees I wear an undershirt and if not for regulations I would do without that. Mornings of frost hardened grounds and overcast skies, turning a menacing grey and threatening to spit chill seemed to be behind us. That said, summer skies have given way to hail and lightning in the midst of a summer afternoon before, such is the nature of Idaho weather. For now I am content, my Irish glow burned red, for the cold I was not made, I welcome the heat.