We all inch up to the starting line eager to run, ready to give it our all

Edging forward, trying to get closest before the inevitable bang that entitles the start

It finally comes, we all jump at the noise and the echo still loiters in the energy of the air

Starting off fast we rip up dust from the dry ground that creates a haze behind us

I convert to a steady stride still pushing it but hoping to sustain this speed for the overall goal of only to improve

The taste of dust lingers in my mouth and wicks the moisture from my tongue

First mile, confidence boost, more determined than before, thinking to myself I could totally do that again and this time faster

Second mile, excited, but slowing down, my legs are starting to give and strain, my stomach is beginning to turn and my parched esophagus demands water

Two and a half! So close, I increase your pace, and exhilaration rushes over me, infectious through my whole body, I feel so light I am basically gliding

Step after step I prepare for the final sprint, my legs pumping, working their hardest to propel me further and faster, putting so much pressure on my tired shins they could snap.

The machine that is my heart is thumping thumping in and out so hard I think it might be visible from outside my skin

And I finish! So out of breath I fall over and lay there, about to throw up but can’t I’m so fatigued, after my short-lived rest I grab my water bottle, and rehydrate my barren throat with the gift of water, refreshing my soul, readying myself for the next run.