I watched those Kenyans and their finely toned shiny bodies. . . and poor USA Ryan in #4. . . . there is always the thrill of the race. . .made me think of the thrill and excitement of the early morn start of a 60k (35 miles) marathon on 'skinny skis' running across meadows, on the narrow paths through forests, up and down hills, around curves, pushing to move ahead and out of the pack and into the more solitary race and ample space to breathe your frosty air.
I think every marathon has its Heartbreak Hill when you wonder if you are ever going to make it up and then you find yourself in the breakaway space heading toward the finsh. . . your body screaming and finding that burst of energy to make it. . . . the steam of your body wicking thru the thin layers and out your 'poured on' skin-suit. . . .the silent scream "I DID IT !" as you ski across the finish line and out of the way because you feel as tho your innards were going to puke out what is left of you. . . .but then someone presses a styrofoam cup of hot blueberry juice into your trembling hands . . . .it could have been the elixir of the gods as the replenishing minerals are absorbed into your depleted body.
My God, what a trip!