Wild and Free.

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At the bottom of what looks like a mountain to you and your tired legs, looking up and ready for the climb. Step after step. You feel like giving up because you ache and every bone in your body is screaming at you to stop. But you can’t.

The brow of the hill is in sight, and you will reach the top if it means you drop dead when you do.

Dedication, enthusiasm and stress have got you here, and they are your only friends to get you the rest of the way. Your music blares into your ears but you don’t hear a thing, accept for the thud of your heartbeat and the heaviness of your breath. Some people stare, laugh and point, but you’ve never noticed. Because it’s you, the hill and your feet. You intend to beat this climb and keep going further.

Nothing’s better than that immense breath of cold air you get when the ground flattens beneath you. It hurts, but then this spur of energy rushes through you in a wave of cold and you carry on.

Running alone.

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