One...Two...At least I didn't puke on my shoes!

Tonight, my personal trainer taught bootcamp at the gym. I had seriously contemplated NOT going. I mean, I knew that this was going to be WAY out of my league. I am the fat girl...remember? But I went. I knew that if I was going to leave behind this fat insecure Melissa, I needed to do this. Time to step out of my comfort zone.

I started out the class by wiping out. Yep. 5 minutes into class and I fell. Hard. I can laugh at it now. But, at the time, I wanted to cry. I have a nice bruise on my side from it. I warned Luke I was a klutz...

There were times during the class I wanted to just quit. Like during the 75 jumping jacks. Or the 120 leg lifts (60 per side) or the never ending sprints. But I didn't quit. I wanted to cry. Every time Luke asked me if I was okay, I simply nodded. I knew if I opened my mouth I would cry. The pain was intense.  Harder than anything that I have done thus far.

But I did it. Even though I fell, even though I had to push myself to not stop, even though I seriously thought I would puke on my shoes, I did it.

I kept telling myself that with each step, crunch, and leg lift, I was leaving that fat girl behind. The girl that walked into that room was NOT the girl who was hobbling like an 80 year old walking out of that room.

I owned it tonight. I poured my body and soul into that class tonight. I proved to myself that I CAN DO THIS.