Faster
I ran with her, I trained her, I encouraged her, and I even slept with her when her husband was away on business. But, her training regime was never going to work, she wouldn’t cut back on all her fancy iced coffees. She blew off aerobic workouts regularly. She huffed and she puffed, but she paid me.
I bet she doesn’t worry about her husband’s pretty receptionist now. Her protein diet and her half-assed workouts don’t matter. Back when we had a hundred dead people shuffling along behind us on our run, only one thing truly mattered. I was faster.
Photo by Ed Yourdon [CC BY-SA 2.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)] |
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