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Truth

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The truth is admitting I hate practice. I hate the ache in my muscles that never go away. Morning practices in the weight room and I can’t seem to get the smell of IcyHot out of my head. I’ve practically given up my social life for this sport and all I do is run circles around a track. Some days, the afternoons are blistering hot and other days so frigid cold I think I’ve joined a winter sport. My lungs burn and feel deflated, chafed raw. My feet and ankles are permanently bruised; they’re covered in blisters and calloused.

The adrenaline pumping through my veins at meets is unbearable. My muscles twitch, reminding me how badly I want to run. How much I yearn to feel the burning sensation in my lungs and the ache in my calves. The truth is admitting we all do it for the meets.



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