Elemental Wolves

{Chapter Five}

Teagan

Ten, twenty, thirty, fifty, one-hundred. Was it enough? No, not yet.

I kept lying to myself. Telling myself 'not yet' when I knew that it'd never be enough. It had to be perfect.

I pushed through the fatigue trying to make itself known throughout my body.

One-hundred and fifty, two-hundred, three-hundred, three-hundred and fifty. Was this enough?

Why was I even asking when I already knew what my answer would be? When I wouldn't listen to my body's answer?

Maybe I was trying to convince my brain that I gave a damn about myself more than I gave a damn about the perception of me.

Or maybe this was my drug to escape reality. A distraction.

The slight tingles and twitching of fatigue rushing through my arms, shoulders, and back tell me otherwise.

Escaping is more important. Nothing else matters.

Four-hundred, five-hundred, seven-hundred, eight-hundred and fifty, one thousand.

I jump up from the ground. Out of breath and fully disappointed in myself. Anyone of the warriors could do a thousand pushups.

They could do more.

It wasn't enough. One thousand push ups weren't enough. What kind of Alpha gets winded by something so simple? I always tell myself that my body was just being weak whenever this happens.

Always giving up on me and I never had a say so. Sounds like a familiar theme. I had full control over myself though. And I know I can do more. I will do more.

My triceps, core, and shoulders all heavily disagreed with me, aching and twitching violently. I wasn't sure if I liked it or not.

Pain is my friend. It told me that I was doing enough to make some kind of change in my body. And I was only getting started.

I felt myself smile sadistically at the thought.

Twenty, sixty, one-hundred, three-hundred, five-hundred. Was it enough? My upper body seemed to think so, but I disagreed.

Why shouldn't I keep going? That thought was enough to set me on my way to the pull up bar. Next in the routine was one-armed pull-ups. Two hundred on each arm.

My body is frantically trying to cool itself down and the sweat began to make its away down my naked chest.

Slowly traveling along the it's path downwards on my dark skin until it finally reaches the waistband of my training shorts.

Sweat provided me with some form of companionship and accomplishment. It always showed up as encouragement, but it always led the way to pain. Pain meant progress.

I'd heal.

Refraining from suddenly flooding my body with fluids like I wanted to, I instead decided to pace myself as I promptly drank the water from my water jug.

I have to be careful as water weight is a variable I don't want to deal with. I keep myself from drinking anymore, my body is cooled but my thirst isn't satisfied.

Eighty, one-hundred sixty, three-hundred, five-hundred, seven-hundred, eight-hundred, one-thousand, one-thousand five-hundred.

My abs are starting to burn. My body is upset with me from depriving it of a sufficient amount water. More pissed off for working it so hard.

But I don't care. It's for my benefit in the long run. I needed to make sure I met my goals. At all costs. I needed to be enough.

I just fucking had to.