The first 5 minutes of a run are terrible. You second guess why you decided to lace up your sneakers today, the cold air pinches your cheecks, your thighs scream for a slower pace, and your chest burns of overuse. But then the beat of the song in your ears begins to match the beat you gave to your breath and footwork- three breaths in, left right left, three breaths out of the mouth, right left right. eventually you lose track of where mile 2, 3, and 4 went, and are nearing on mile 8. You start to embrace for the finish, your mind starts to nag you to go faster, and faster as you hit the much memorized final mile mark. You turn the corner. You see the finish. It's just up the hill. Your legs go at double speed. You remember how amazing that final step is. Before you can walk again. Your legs tickle with agony. Your breath burns your throat and esophagus. Your shoe scrapes your ankle.
But you don't stop.
Then... runners high. Your brain departs from your body and you watch your legs propell forward, yet you don't feel a thing.
Before you know it, your done. 9 miles. done.
We are in the final sprint of the run. It's going to hurt, its not natural to remember 4 months of information in a week, but you begin to taste the sweet ambrosia that rolls off your tongue when you say you survived AP Comp. Instead of walking the last 400 meters, sprint till you can't feel the pain anymore. Because this will be what you remember most.
How you finished
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