The race is an illusion. If you’re running it, you’re running in circles. If you’re competing, you’re competing on a hamster wheel. Your legs move and move and move, and the whole time you’re spinning in a circle. The question, the competition, is over who can move, the fastest, to precisely nowhere. Drop out of the race.

You run. You never stop. You compete. You compete until you die. If you stumble, you redouble your pace. If you trip, you pick yourself up. If you have both legs chopped off by razor wire—you just don’t care. You crawl yourself to the finish line or you die bleeding. Either or. You have only two acceptable choices.

I can’t compete.