I put my foot at the starting line, getting as close to over the line as I could. The other runners lined up around me and I looked around. Competition, I loved it. I pressed the play button on my Ipod.

“Reluctantly crouched at the starting line-”
Cake’s “The Distance” started.playing in my ears. I put the Ipod in my ears. The gun went off and the line of runners lurched forward.

“They deftly manuver and muscle for rank-”
I press past two other runners, chuckling to myself as they sprint past me, afraid to be overtaken by the best.

“The arena is empty except for one man-”
I feel the music rushing through my vains, willing me to win The race continues and I pick one man off after another

“He’s going the distance. He’s going for speed-”
I’m ahead

“Because he’s racing and pacing and plotting the course-”
I speed up my pace, I start to push myself

“In his mind he’s still driving, still making the grade-”
I finish the race, and listen to the rest of the song