Fueled with brain-manufactured cocaine and a fearless sense of tenacity, my heart pumps oxygen-rich blood through my veins. Sweat pours from my brown and drips over my face as I squeeze my fists and spring up and down on my toes. I close my eyes and ask God to give me strength and endurance, but I dont hear The Voice talk back to me. I dont hear anything except the clatter of 15,000 other runners preparing for the run of a lifetime.
Posted on: Mon, 28 Oct 2013 12:41:28 +0000
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