It’s such a luxury. On top of the world. Passing others like some ultimate Kipketer. Not knowing* what they think of your smug face when you leave them behind in rapid speed. Audience cheer as you pass the finish line in supreme conduct. Raising your arms, letting their love, praise and astonishment for your unbelievable accomplishment pervade you.
Stop.
Back.
4k to go.
Reverse.
Sprint again.
Or no, maybe you look startled, “can’t believe I just won”, or perhaps the cool, American cockiness, “I am no. 1”, either way works. Then a slow song pops up, your requirement to listen to Random messes up everything. Quickly change to a more vivacious song again. Amp up the pace to catch the leader on the final dash.
3k to go.
Back to the final 400m.
You’re behind everyone.
Last pull.
*Caring
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