He jogged through the quiet morning air, as he did most days, heading toward the expansive track field near the school. His steady footsteps echoed in the stillness, the only sound competing with the rhythm of his breath. The music playing through his earbuds helped him focus, a steady beat matching the pace of his run.
As he continued, his mind drifted, the familiar motion settling into a quiet calm. But after a while, his breath began to catch, a sign that he’d pushed himself further than usual. He didn’t stop, though—he never did.
It wasn’t until the clock struck six that he finally slowed to a stop. Gasping for air, his chest heaving, sweat soaking his shirt, he stood still for a moment, letting the cool morning air wash over him. He’d pushed himself to the limit, just like he always did—quietly, without fanfare, but always with purpose.