Unearthed: COCC musings (09 July 2011)

I have never felt so tired - and simultaneously accomplished - my whole life. I hate counting my accomplishments because I feel like doing so makes me feel the ugly version of pride, but despite the fact that I wasn't able to count the many push-ups I've made, I feel awesome after having survived the almost-14 hour torture -- if you could call it that.

Anyway, I'm writing this down while the whole house is in complete and utter chaos, my siblings and I are planning to watch Monte Carlo later and if not for the fact that I would want to forget the physical pain right now (although I must admit, that Alaxan I took worked to alleviate my pains a bit) and have fun with my brother and sister before they resume being adults again, I wouldn't have agreed to go. I arrived home at 12 last night (technically this morning) because I had a meeting with the YFCs and I love how they were super attentive to my needs after seeing the crumpled state I was in.

Hmm, last night was... well, different. I was never the sporty kid. The closest I had to a sport was ballet... and even that didn't work well. I met a few people who would be spending the rest of the semester with me (assuming none of us quit, that is) although I admit I am a tad bit disappointed with the fact that the others quit so early in the round. Yumul, Cruz, Arzedon.. I see potential in them, the first two especially, and it just sucks how the people I know most in COCC are the ones who left.

(I jump too much with regard to my writing, but anyway...)

The training was honestly deadly. Half the time I was telling myself not to cry not only from the physical pain but from the prickling of my skin allergies. On my way home, I remained stoic, but when I dived onto the comforts of my bed, I literally broke down. I cried because it was painful, because I felt weak, but mostly because I couldn't do anything else but.

Then I decided on one thing... I'm sticking with this. Because seriously, it may have hurt, the numerous PTs and the running (running and I are mortal enemies), but the fact that I remained standing, that I didn't let the weakness of my self get the best of me, that I stood in front of my full-body length mirror last night and made the finger to the invisible people who believed I couldn't do it... that remained my motivation. And as long as I have those motivation, I don't think I'll be quitting anytime soon.