I wanted to be a distance god. There. I said it. I would've broken out of the lead pack and surged away, thrown down some impossible splits, devastated the elites as I stretched my lead, merciless, alone...almost floating. The field would've strung out and withered behind me as I burned and buried the best runners on the face of the planet. I would've become immortal. Was that too much to ask? See, running consumed me—sometimes like love, sometimes like cancer.

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