Proud

I am not sure of an actual time that I felt genuinely proud of myself. 

Though that may sound horribly sad, I think that because of that it makes me appreciate the feeling that much more! 

Friday was a rough class, I pushed myself. Again, I pushed myself. I have become fairly dependent on Rocky and Dawana encouraging me when I looked and felt defeated by the day, by the workout. But I had to do it alone.

It started off poorly as I failed to leave work in a timely manner to arrive to class on time. But I asked what I missed and caught up with the sweating part. LOL Honestly, I spent most of Friday dreading and worrying that the workout would be horrible because I was alone. 

So as the workout progressed, I tried heavier weights, I tried less water breaks, I tried not watching the clock. I didn’t die. I didn’t faint, I wasn’t behind, I was doing it. 

Whiskey

Tango 

Foxtrot

Me. I was doing it. I was keeping up. I was pushing. I was getting it. I was proud of myself. 

I am proud of me. ❤

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