Just cracked the 1/3rd mark, closing at 3400 push-ups for the day. But it was a begrudging effort. After a month of publicly humiliating myself day after day, you'd think it would get less embarrassing, or at least easier. Nope. The push-ups are still as unpleasant as ever, especially when I'm feeling a bit below par.
The same embarrassing act, consistently performed every day for a hundred days - I daresay this is one of the hardest things I've ever done! Every lunchtime when I carry my cross box down to Martin Place, I ask myself why I'm doing this to myself.
But I only have to think of my delightful 3-year old girl in a few years time, just starting to blossom, kidnapped to serve an endless stream of fat, sweaty, porn-addicted men forcing her to do whatever disgusting things that their sick minds can concoct. To think of my own daughter writhing in pain, then falling in a hopeless heap like so much human trash - now that's enough anger-fuel to keep any father going.
Just you watch and see - I'm gonna see human trafficking abolished before I die.
