Nathan’s POV
I sat on a low couch in the bathroom, with my phone in hand, soaking my aching legs and feet in a small tub of ice. An attendant had offered to help me with the icing process, but I had turned the offer down, not wanting to be disturbed.
Leah’s report was aggressively thorough. So much so, I didn’t know whether to feel impressed or personally called out.
The heat maps, which were actual colour-coded representations of my movement patterns, made it obvious I leaned too much on my right side when I got tired. She had also highlighted the little adjustments I made to compensate, especially how poorly I was protecting my hamstrings.
I shook my head, adjusted my legs deeper into the ice, and I scrolled further.
There was a slow-motion clip of me from the last three games. Wh
