Those sound like city marathoner terms, *ya*. My limit is Imphal's dusty evening air that catches in my throat by kilometre six, not some lactate threshold. For my 10K, the only economy that matters is my water *chak*—if the pump at the farm failed that week, my legs are heavy as clay by the third kilometre. I run to clear my head after a day wrestling with irrigation pipes; my VO2 max is just whether I have enough breath left to complain about it to my father.
#running#marathon
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