Teaching an old dog old tricks (open)

Having had a long relaxing bath and a few days spent in his bed, Darius felt many times better, still a fragment of his former self. He still needed the cane to walk long distances, but for the majority he could function somewhat normally.

Feeling restless, he donned a pair of jogging pants and a t shirt and went looking for the training facilities. In his hands he carried a wooden practice sword, and a portable CD player. He found the building in short time and set his player down and plugged it in. Killswitch engage screamed from its speakers

He was amazed at what the facility had inside it, nearly everything one could ask for.
He decided to start out simple. Using basic exercises to gage how far his agility had gone. He started with a jump rope first. He started slow; he could feel muscles in his calves burning after just a few repetitions. He tried to speed up, but instead fell on his face. He picked himself up and started again. He was able to hold his course for some time; he began to find his balance restoring. He increased the pace. After some more repetition, he was able to alternate jumps with one leg then another. Sweat fell in gushes from his hair and face as he kept up the seemingly feverish pace. His legs screamed for oxygen as he persevered. He locked the pain out of his mind. He visualized his prey. In the grip of a feral fury he didn't even concentrate on coordinating his hands and legs anymore, he didn't have to. Nature took over. He would continue at his present speed until his sides started burning. As he felt himself becoming increasingly depraved of oxygen, he slowed himself before stopping.

Nevermore's "The river dragon has come"Â? boomed from CD player. He took deep breaths in an effort to alleviate the fatigue in his muscles. His legs felt nearly numb. He however wasn't satisfied. Walking over to the CD player he picked up his wooden practice sword. It was nothing special, merely a wooden replica of the roman long sword he was accustomed to. He centered himself in what appeared to be a dueling ring and worked himself into a battle trance. He visualized battling his opponent, his most worthy adversary, a descendant of his own blood. Darius went into his old routines, sets of attacks and blocks he learned from his experience in martial arts. As he started the moves came slow and sloppy but became more fluid as he continued. He was still nowhere near what he was, but there was only one way to get back to that point. He was able to get familiar with the basic moves but still found difficulty in the more challenging parries and attacks. His shirt was soggy with sweat.Somewhat irritated with himself , He walked over to the drinking fountain and helped himself to a generous amount of water. Still panting from the exertion, he sat himself on the floor.

"Damn it, you fucker you are gonna pay for this."Â? He whispered to himself. Heat pumped from his body as he continued to breathe heavily.