I do it for me

I am so sick of drama. I mean, seriously. I have been wallowing in my own melodrama regarding the Lobster's deployment and I am sick of it. Seriously, chick. Put your big girl pants on, soldier up, and drive on. I am sick of feeling sorry for myself. Yes it will suck. Yes, it won't be fun. But I will survive. I completely reserve the right to start feeling depressed again here at any given moment, but for right now, I am pepped up. I am ready.

I stepped up my workouts this morning. I think I had leveled out and quite frankly, I was bored with PRT. So, in a sense I am still doing it, but it got too easy and boring. I needed to make it harder. I love to ache. I seriously do. Maybe it's one of the sick and twisted aspects of my personality, but I thrive on sore muscles. I thrive on pushing my body to do what it doesn't want to do. I love the feeling of nothing being able to stop me. When I am working out, I am my own worst enemy. There isn't anyone there forcing me to do anything. It is entirely a battle of wills. Who will win? My will or my desire to quit?

I think, here recently, I have been reminded of my old self. I have been reminded of my ferocious, gonna-get-it-done, competitive, driven self. While she had aspects of herself that I don't miss, there are many things that I do. Driving myself to prove a point is sort of one of them. I think I have become too passive in my "older" age.

So anyway. Long story short, yes, I am still working out. Every single day. Do I do it for anyone else? Nope. I do it for me.