My chest heaves, beads of sweat roll off my forehead, my lungs gasp ... I love to run. Running is not so much a passion as it is a yearning. It's a painful, disgusting sport almost entirely devoid of any glory or gratification, yet peaceful and satisfying. My body aches after a good race or a long day at practice, but for some reason I can never pass up an opportunity to sprint those one hundred meters of fury I crave so much. I'm not the best runner; I'm nothing more than a mediocre, partially decorated team member, but I still love the excitement and strive to improve with every race.…
