Eat and Run

Description

My mind was ablaze. My body was catching fire. Passing Valley had spread me out

level, and now it was cooking me. My group was instructing me to get up, that they

realized I could go on, yet I could scarcely hear them. I was too bustling vomiting, at that point

watching the surge of fluid vanish in the hover of light from my headlamp

nearly as quick as it sprinkled down on the steaming asphalt. It was 60 minutes

prior to 12 PM, 105 burnings, soul-sucking degrees. This should

be

my

time. This was the point in a race where I had made a profession of finding

concealed supplies of sheer will that others didn’t have, finding powers

that pushed me to separations and velocities that others couldn’t coordinate. In any case,

this evening, simmering on the asphalt, everything I could gather was the memory of a

TV ad I had seen as a youngster. First, there’s an egg in somebody’s

fingers and a voice says, “This is your mind.”