The safety pins were the hardest part. Sarah’s fingers were numb from the damp morning air, but she finally managed to secure the bib to her chest: .
At the halfway point, a particularly steep, slick incline loomed. Sarah dug in. She didn't focus on the finish line; she focused on the rhythm of her breathing and the steady beat of her heart. She wasn't just running against the clock; she was running for the sheer, messy joy of being capable. SARAH TAYLOR [313]
As she crossed the finish line, drenched and caked in grit, a volunteer handed her a water bottle. "Great job, Taylor," they said, glancing at her mud-splattered bib. The safety pins were the hardest part