"You're almost there!"
As my legs shook and I felt as though I could no longer remain upright, she counted down. "Three ... two ... one!"
Over and over again. I didn't think it would ever end. I'm sure my eyes were pleading with her to make the seconds pass faster. But it didn't work.
My personal trainer is trying to kill me. And I'm paying her to do it.
But you know what? I'm proud of myself for finally going there. I've been in the best shape of my life for the past year or so. But I'm lacking that definition that I've always craved. Now, if all goes well, I'll be where I want to be within the year.
Bikini season, here I come!