Sure the monogrammed t-shirt and weighty medal with silky ribbon are nice, but that’s not why I do it. I do it for the fresh bubble blisters on my hands, the bruised knees, the faint cheers from strangers on the sidelines, the wet clothes soaked in mud, and the goosebumps on my arms from the winter’s chill. It’s for the taste of a perfectly yellow ripe banana and tomorrow’s soreness while sitting on the sofa. Where I’ll be recalling every agonizing moment from the day before — with a big smile on my face.
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