MOTIVATION - A Story of Fueling

A lot of people found the mirrors in the workout room cruel and insulting. But she loved them.

Yes, they helped her perfect her technique. But that wasn’t why. She loved them because they helped her visualize. She could lock eyes with herself and before she knew it, the class was over. And she felt better in more ways than one.

He was a special kind of mean to her. Yes, he roughed her up a few times, but that wasn't the worst of it. He gave her bruises and breaks that wouldn't heal too. While he once made her feel sexy and loved, he turned. He told her she was disgusting and worthless. And made her believe it. Why would someone who’s supposed to love you lie? Who knows. But they do. Too bad she didn’t realize it till he’d taken every ounce of self worth from her and then added insult to injury by keeping a lover for God knows how long. He couldn’t just let her go. He had to suck her dry first, and crumble her up like an empty gum wrapper.

She hated him for it. White hot hate.

They say to commit murder in your heart is as much of a sin as actually killing someone. She doubted it was as satisfying. She thought about finding out, but decided he’d stolen enough of her life already. He sure as hell wasn’t worth going to jail over.

She found her indulgence in the classes. They were explosive. Forceful. Fierce. She used them for revenge. She would stare at herself in the mirrored wall, imagining it to be his viewpoint while simultaneously superimposing his face on the reflection.

Jab, jab, punch. Jab, jab, punch. As hard as she could. He’d take the blows full force but would not move away. Upper cut left, upper cut right, Upper cut left, upper cut right. As hard as she could. His head was her punching bag. She grew delirious from the infliction.

Toe kick. Toe kick. Right in the chops. Round house. Round house. Right in the ribs. Right in the gut. Toe kick. Toe kick. Right in the groin. As hard as she could. That was the best part. The precious groin. Murder it.

Knee lift. Knee lift. Grab him by the ears and drive that smug face right into her knee. Again. Again. Drive that nose bone right into his brain. Make him bleed, but don’t stop when he begs for mercy. He doesn’t deserve it. When she thought about it, maybe that was the best part.

Combos. Combos. So fast and so hard that he couldn’t regain composure from one move to the next. She was crazy from the power.

Before she knew it, the class would be over. She’d heave air in and out like an animal. She’d stand over the bag of bones he had become and breathe in the smell of blood. Blood splattered from head to toe. The sweet smell of revenge. So satisfying. She’d lick her lips and give herself a gratifying, smarmy smile in the mirror.

She transformed at an incredible rate. She became strong. Powerful. And as her body reshaped, so did her soul. As her muscles tightened, so did her control over her life. As her butt lifted, so did her self esteem. Most importantly, she came to know that no one would ever hurt her again.

It doesn’t really matter what drives you, as long as you get there.