The perks of having someone like B as your instructor is that he's an excellent source of information to go to. And if you need someone to make me feel like you've not been putting in enough effort and giving too many excuses.

Yesterday's class - albeit intense - was slightly bettert than the first round's class. Moves were different yes, but effort required is still lots. I was so bent on stopping because my thigh muscles seriously ached. He must have noticed me slowing down because all of a sudden he appeared right next to me and started yelling in my ears, his face contorted with combatant seriousness, and saying how I'm going to lose if I stop if I don't want this, I can leave. I was so embarrassed. But I reasoned that the other people in the class must have been humiliated like this before in his classes, so I gritted my teeth.

Its amazing what going through and experiencing such classes are like. I only thought that people shriek and cry in agony in such classes in movies. But as I go through a class like this myself, I certainly had to bite my tongue, because I found myself doing the same thing toward the end of the class when I was certain I might incinerate from the pain.

B is Satan in disguise. I've no idea why they're letting such people loose on the streets. But hey he's here to transform people. And I the love the feeling of my muscles feeling sore, of not being able to stand properly and sit back down doing a tough session, of the sweat dripping down your face.

I think I've given him the impression that I'm a girl that's full of excuses, because just last night after class I sent him a long list of questions based on the BC personalized report he gave me. It looks daunting. The report I mean. I think right now, I'm in a slight state of denial about this routine I have to go through. But B totally pulled a Hitler on me and it mollified by self doubt. I'm sure I can do this. I have done it, despite having very disastrous consequences, but I did t then. The problem is that the mother is here? And I'm wondering how I can pull this off if I don't have the support and freedom to do this under her controlling regime.

We shall see. I'm a soldier people. If I can break the barriers and get into a local university, fuck it if I cannot do this. I need and want this.

I experienced a sudden whim polish my running medals and trophies, as well as some I got from debating when in secondary school, after breakfast this morning. I like trophies. And medals. It means you've won something. You've done something to earn it for yourself. When I have my own house, I'm going to have a nice glass cupboard and nicely arrange all these trophies and medals that I've collected over the years and proudly display them. Call me ambitious, or proud, or whatever. But if it makes me happy. LAH DEE DAH.