It was raining and it seemed as though we were only proceeding deeper into the storm. Lightning lit up the gray sky followed by thunder that was certainly loud enough, but not deafening as in previous nights. The dirt road was becoming pure mud. I was the only one who thought it might be a bit stupid to run in the middle of a storm like this. Knowing though, that the other three people who accompanied me would run anyway, I did not choose to be the wimp. Instead, I made a disclaimer that it was not my bright idea and if I got struck by lightning it was not my fault. That was good enough, since the urgency of the run was very pressing–I had eaten too much yesterday. We started off as a group with me quickly falling behind on the first 2-min up-tempo burst. Desperate for air I became increasingly frustrated sliding around in the mud and watching the others circle back for me. Of the group there was only one other girl and rightfully so she is faster than I; but for some reason today I did not understand how she could get so far ahead every two-minute burst. What does she have that I do not? Naturally born talent? She weighs less, that’s for sure. I continue to slosh around and then I stop. My legs feel approximately 10 pounds heavier each due to the mud that has become attached to the tread of my Asics. Angrily I kick and stomp and slide across the weeds which adorn the banks to get the mud off. My body feels heavy. I believe I am heavy. What is wrong with me? I feel like I have asthma and cough deeply.

My body hates me. Worse, I hate it.

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