01.03.2014, Saturday, 07:15 pm

Tummy Crunches: 100 [!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!]

Morning of the Train Journey

YES!!!!!!!!! YES, YES, YES, YES, YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Last night, I was all set to start my now-usual round of sit-ups and I was all grumpy because I was supposed to do seventy-five and that seemed highly unlikely considering how I begin panting and gasping for air after about ten of them.

Anyway, I flopped onto the bed and started the conditioning. 1…2…3… Pretty soon, I was rolling in beads of perspiration, struggling to come up with each count. 34…35… I was ready to give up, but the thought of bagging all the golds kept me going.

67…68… So close, yet so far. I still wasn’t sure whether I could manage SEVENTY-FIVE crunches.

73…74… 75!!!!!!!! Yes, I did it!! I thought. But somehow, a part of me wasn’t ready to stop, and I found myself heaving my own body up and down and up and down and up and down, even though I’d long since passed my goal.

All of a sudden, I realized that I was on eighty-eight. EIGHTY-EIGHT. Should I stop now or try to reach the triple digits??

Before the question even left my mind, I knew the answer.

As I neared the ninety’s, I was nothing short of a wreck. From a spectator’s point of view, I probably resembled a squirming piglet, trying to free itself from a puddle of mud.


You can do it Taylor!!


That’s it, girl, that’s it…


So stinky… SOO stinky


Got to stop… Got to continue…


Almost there, buddy


Don’t pause


You can see the top, don’t let go now


Two counts away!!!!!


One more… One darn more…


OH YEAH. BABY!!!!!!!!!!!!

My stomach felt like a brick wall, my hair all over my face, my eyes steaming up…

Yet, I continued.

And OK, maybe I didn’t even care whether I did forty or four more. But the fact that I crossed a century… It was enough to make me feel so happy, I almost forgot that I had a career-deciding competition in TWO days.


Now, as I sit here and watch the sun peek out from behind the clouds, I can’t help but think.

Think about how tomorrow, at this very second, I will be pulling on my karate uniform, hardly ready for the weapons contest ahead of me.

Think about how I have to excel.

Think about how I got myself into this rut in the first place.


A child prodigy’s problems are never over.


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