I can't believe this journal's still alive.

It's been more than two (2) weeks and going back to the gym felt like it was my first time to work out.

My legs hurt really bad. My back and my arms too. Are my baby fats dying? Well, that is, if I have any.

My trainer just added five (5) pounds to each and every exercise. He's such a killer.

I'm panting after just a few minutes of running. I have to do this everyday.

It's like freeing myself of the alcohol.

Some call it sadness, and some, depression. I asked one of my friends and she calls it emptiness. I don't know what it's called but it's that sickening feeling that despite having a nice time in the office, a good bunch of friends, a supportive family, something still isn't right ( Read more... )

It gets more difficult every time, but I can say that the hard work is paying off. I think I'll miss my trainer once the period is over. I mean, I definitely would unless I have someone to assist me every time I lift weights.

I'm tired, but guess what, my body isn't complaining. But I am.

The good thing about these conversations is that you get to ponder on a lot of things - who did what, who did who, who did what to whom, the how's and the why's, the you's and the I. Problems become lighter when you talk about them, and funny moments become, well, funnier after each discussion ( Read more... )

Good thing I finished everything before things got awry, to think it was more difficult than ever before!

I don't feel okay.