I have it today. Whatever it is I need, I have. And the moment I realize it, I break ahead and forget about everyone behind me. They’re not my competition. I am. I’m competing against my desire to slow, against the burn in my legs, the rasp in my chest. With one mile left, I blow it out. I'm sprinting and I'm still fine when I see the finish line in the distance, when I come around the curve and hear the clang of cowbells and the shouts.
