Damn. 27 weeks. That’s over half a year of showing up, lifting, pushing, and proving to myself that I can do this. I don’t think I’ve ever been this consistent with a gym routine before, and honestly? I’m feeling unstoppable.

It’s wild looking back at where I started—dragging myself out of bed at 3 AM, wondering if this would actually stick. Now, it’s just what I do. No debate, no second-guessing. Just me, the weights, and the grind. I’ve built strength, size, and endurance, but more than that, I’ve built discipline. This isn’t just about lifting anymore; it’s about showing up for myself, no excuses.

Physically, the results are undeniable. I’m lifting heavier than ever, my muscles are showing up in ways they never have before, and my energy levels are solid. My diet’s been better too—protein-focused, simple, and fueling the gains. And the best part? I actually feel like I earned that fitness gear reward I set for myself.

I’ve hit 27 weeks. That’s crazy. But now? Now I want more. The next milestone is 52 weeks. One full year. And if I can do 27, I can damn sure do 52. Let’s go.