I run…
Until my perspiration 
tastes like sugar upon my senses
My muscles create their own restraints 
and every fiber swells and tenses
I ignore my route in solitude
in a wonderland more pensive
Lactic acid sets my calves aflame 
to self-immolate my progression 

It becomes a game of numbers; 
seconds and kilometers are bested
Ounces of fluid, grams of protein, 
and recovery hours of resting
Survival of the fittest is 
the hypothesis worth testing
Promote a healthy philosophy 
yet we just want to be sexy

It’s a therapy of training 
when body and thoughts collide
Conflict with every toe strike; 
combatants inside our minds
Endurance grows; not diminished 
as we meet our finish lines
To defy death in conquest 
with milliseconds of pride...