It was never a lighthearted endeavor. He often felt that competing was more similar to a heavy weight boxing match than anything else. The singular focus of bringing every cell to the absolute edge. The simplicity of it all was laughable but that did not change how he felt. For him it was life or death, and he looked forward to it.
Nothing else in the world mattered except for the one date circled on the calendar. All the preparations and workouts and miles, thousands of miles, all for one moment. No regard for anything after as this was built up to be the most important event of his life. Whether this was true or not, it certainly was in his mind.
His friends and family probably thought he had his wires crossed because he welcomed the pains like old friends. The searing burn in his lungs, and the nausea, and the loss of all integral strength in his legs. At the end of the race he would be completely destroyed and a lesser physical version of himself. Limping and dizzy and so tired he could sleep forever yet simultaneously electrified with adrenaline.
And deep down, he hoped that this inflated event would teach something along the way. Something about the world that would shift his outlook for the better. Or maybe just maybe, he would finally find himself.
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