The Name's Aizawa

Pushups

   Finding pushups to be the entire answer to the question of what to do next is absolutely absurd. No, pushups are not and were not the entire answer, merely the first step in a larger plan to make my dreams a reality, since dreams are nothing without action. So, let me tell you about my master plan of how to join the hero course:

     •  Get my body to the peak of physical fitness

     •  Learn actual fighting tactics

     •  Impress the hero course teachers

Simple enough, but simple doesn't mean easy.

   The morning proceeding the day I recieved my exam scores looked good. The sun shining through my bedroom woke me gently with its light and warmth. I sprung out of bed and immediately fell into a pushup. I planned on doing a hundred, but after fifty my arms burned and muscles snapped, so I decided to paused my arm work to work on my legs. I only got through twenty five squats. I managed ten sit ups, then I stopped for breakfast. I fried some eggs and sausage. My workout for the next few days worked out similarly to that first day, but worse. Pushups fell to twenty five, then twenty, and so on.

   "This isn't working." I sighed while resting my head in my hands. My dad swiveled and raised a brow at me.

   "Could you be more specific?" He asked, pausing from eating his breakfast. I bit my lip. I hadn't told him about my plan. He didn't need to know about it.

   "I'm trying to workout, get stronger." I answered. He didn't need to know anymore.

   "Well, it takes time." He assured me with a slight smile.

   "And self discipline, which I don't really seem to have." I let out a dry laugh while combing through my hair with my fingers.

   "Okay," He began staring up at the ceiling in thought "If you can't manage disciplining yourself, then I'll make sure you're reaching your goal. So, what is it? What's your goal?" My mouth hung open a bit at his offer. It was a surprisingly good idea coming from him, maybe older generations are smarter. I smiled.

   "A hundred pushups, a hundred sit ups, and a hundred squats daily." I said plainly. He looked me up and down after hearing that. "What?" I exclaimed moving into a closed off position.

   "Nothing!" He defended, throwing up his hands "It's just... you sure you can handle that much? I mean, your body isn't quite... used to that." I stood up, slamming my hands on the kitchen island. 

   "Then I'll have to adjust!" I shouted. My father chuckled and nodded, taking a bite of cereal. 

   "Tomorrow we'll started with twenty five of each. Every day but Saturday. Saturday you'll rest to let your muscles actually heal. Next week we'll at twenty five more. We'll continue that until we reach that hundred. We'll start at five A.M." He explained "Sound good?"

   "Yeah." I replied. I finished my breakfast with a smile not even my quirk could erase. I had some hope, and it wasn't baseless. 

   The first day of working out with my dad was similar to my first day of working out alone. I was excited and got to it straight away, but this time, I managed all of what was planned that day. I felt tired after I'd finished, but the first day of school still awaited me.